Crashed (Entangled Indulgence)(50)

Chapter Sixteen

It was late when Deacon pulled in behind West Restoration. His meeting had run late. Usually he would have just stayed out of town another night, but it turned out, two days away from Alex was more than he could handle.

He’d called, told her he wouldn’t make dinner, but she’d promised to wait up for him. The breathlessness to her voice when he spoke to her, that husky edge of hers, had near done him in. That alone had driven him to get in his car, to drive straight over here, despite the hour. He needed her. And he sure as hell wouldn’t leave her wanting.

Going away, especially after what happened with Emily, had not been ideal. He’d wanted nothing more than to take Alex home and show her how much he cared, convince her to trust him, to forget their snide comments. Hell, he’d needed it for himself—the doubt on her face, the hurt she’d tried to hide had nearly killed him.

Climbing out of his car, he walked around the side of the workshop, where he’d hidden his car, and looked over to his sisters’ cottage. The place was dark—both had turned in for the night. He glanced up and saw pale yellow light illuminated the front windows of Alex’s apartment. Thank God.

Being Alex’s landlord meant he had a key to her place, and he’d told her to lock up, that he’d let himself in. He took the external stairs to her front door and used his key.

“Alex?” He shut the door behind him and moved into the kitchen. No sign of her.

But when he moved into the small adjoining living room, he saw her. On her side, hand tucked under her chin, asleep on the couch. Jesus, he’d missed her more than he thought possible. The more time they spent together, the more of herself she revealed, the deeper his already intense feelings became.

She was wearing nothing but a baggy Guns N’ Roses tank top that skimmed the tops of her thighs and looked unbelievably sexy. Her smooth, bare legs were stretched out, toenails painted blue, and right then, he thought the cute silver toe ring she wore might be the hottest thing he’d ever seen. The woman was temptation and innocence all at the same time.

She also looked utterly wiped out.

As badly as he wanted her, he didn’t have the heart to wake her. He knew firsthand what a restless sleeper she could be. What those dreams did to her, how they shook her. She looked so peaceful. Cursing under his breath, he thrust his fingers through his hair. He could wait till tomorrow, right? One more night wouldn’t kill him.

Fuck.

Her scent, unique to Alex, spicy and exotic, filled the small apartment and hit him in the gut. The roar of need increased along with the swirl of emotion only Alex had managed to evoke in him. He needed to leave before he changed his mind and acted like the selfish bastard she already thought he was.

Walking to the kitchen as quietly as he could, he grabbed a pen and jotted down a note so she knew he hadn’t stood her up, then took the blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over her. He took one last long look at his sleeping beauty and let himself out.

Every step away from her felt heavy, wrong on every level, but he knew how hard they’d all been working. West Restoration had begun to make a name for itself, and he would never stand in the way of their success, despite what he’d told Alex.

When he reached the bottom step, his gaze moved to the workshop’s side door, and that old familiar pain lanced through his chest.

God, the way he’d felt going to his father that day, the pain that had sliced across his old man’s face when he’d told him what he’d seen. Deacon had thought he was doing the right thing. He’d been angry and hurt, and still in shock, after finding his mother with another man. Jacob West had been heartbroken, humiliated. His own son discovering what he hadn’t seen himself was too much for his pride to recover from.

His parents separated after that, and he and his father had begun to drift apart. Maybe his mother would have left on her own, eventually, maybe she wouldn’t. He’d opened his mouth, and because of that, his dad had lost the woman he loved and his sisters had grown up without their mother. He’d blamed himself. As he’d gotten older, his relationship with his father had only gone from bad to worse.

But when he dropped the bomb that he was going to business school instead of working at the garage and one day taking it over—things had completely fallen apart. They’d never recovered from it. Never made their peace, and now it was too late.

Before he realized what he was doing, he had the keys for Alex’s apartment in his hand. Spare keys for the garage and the cottage were on the key ring as well, and he unlocked the door. The place was pitch-black, but he knew every square foot; it was as familiar to him as the back of his own hand. He went straight to the security system flashing beside the door and disengaged the alarm, then, shutting the door behind him, flicked on the overhead lights.