I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said in the car on the way home. I knew that Deacon was right. It was just s*x. After all, he was a hired man, and as soon as the problems with my stalker were over, he’d go back to his life. I’d go back to mine, too; my life of dating metrosexuals and scolding Anna for buying the wrong kind of coffee. But I didn’t want to think about that just yet.
Deacon slowed the car to a stop at a light. I was surprised because he actually had a pretty nice machine. It was a Camaro, and although it wasn’t a new model, it drove well and it was gorgeous. He drove smoothly down the freeway with skill and precision. I could tell Deacon had obviously put a lot of money and effort into his car.
I reached over and let my hand rest on his thigh.
Deacon looked at me
