"You think we can get this done in less than six months?" he asked.
Axel started laughing, and then he kept laughing as he shoveled debris into the wheelbarrow.
"I think what he's trying to say is, 'Hell, no,' " Elias said, joining in the laughter.
Deacon sighed and hoped this wasn't the thing that would push Tess past her breaking point. Maybe Eve knew what she was doing after all.
CHAPTER TEN
The next day, Mrs. Schriever was buried. With her broach.
There had been no sleeping in on Saturday morning, and Tess had desperately needed it after spending a majority of her Friday at the Clip n' Curl, and the rest of it keeping herself preoccupied while Deacon worked shirtless in her bathroom. When he'd finally come downstairs sometime after ten, covered in sweat and dust and looking just a little bit frustrated, she was sitting on the bench seat in the kitchen trying her hardest to concentrate on her crossword puzzle book and wondering if she'd be able to button her pants the following morning if she went ahead and ate all the cookies that had been left over from the viewing the night before.
The look in Deacon's eyes when he'd seen her sitting there had made her feel hot all over. And a little afraid. There was a lot of passion in his gaze. She wasn't used to that kind of intensity when it came to physical matters, and for a split second she wondered if he was going to pounce.
He'd taken a deep breath, tossed his shirt over his shoulder, and then walked straight up to her and given her the sweetest kiss right on the forehead. It had taken her completely off guard. He'd whispered good night and then left her sitting there without a thought in her head.
Saturday morning, Tess had sighed at the memory and forced herself out of bed and down to the kitchen for coffee. Esther Schriever had chosen a nine o'clock funeral, which meant Tess had to be up at five thirty and dressed by seven.
She had a slight moment of panic when she got to the bottom floor and remembered she didn't have a jacket to wear. But the worry was short-lived when she walked into the kitchen and found a new suit jacket in a hanging bag lying across the table.
She unzipped it and there was a note pinned to the lapel that said: "It's not too fancy. I hope this one ends up on the floor too. ~S"
She found herself smiling before she took her first sip of caffeine, and she stroked the collar. And then she realized there wasn't just a jacket inside, but an entirely new pantsuit.
There was another note attached to the pants. "Scowling will give you wrinkles. It came as a set. The size should be right since I had the chance to measure you at length. By the way, when can I get my hands on you again? ~S"
"Incorrigible," she muttered. "And charming. Good move, Deacon."
She had taken her coffee and the suit halfway upstairs before she remembered that her bathroom was a construction zone, so she headed back down to the large bathroom next to the embalming room. In all honesty, this one was much nicer than the one she was used to upstairs. The downstairs bathroom had been completely remodeled, with travertine tiles and heated towel bars. And the walk-in shower had so many shower heads she felt like she was in a car wash.
Her mood was pretty darn good by the time she got out of the shower and toweled off. She slathered herself in cream with the light lemon scent Deacon had commented on and then pulled on plain black underpants and a matching bra. And then she stood there staring at the suit hanging on the hook on the back side of the door.
Deacon had said it wasn't too fancy, but from where she was standing it looked like the fanciest thing she'd ever laid eyes on. There was no label, and that was a bit worrisome, because she'd read in Cosmo one time that clothes without labels were really expensive. She stroked her fingers down the lapel and bit her lip. It felt really expensive.
"Here goes nothing," she said, and pulled it from the hanger before she could talk herself out of it.
She put the whole thing on before she looked at herself in the mirror, but just the feel of the material against her skin was a new sensation. And when she turned around, she almost didn't recognize the body in the mirror. She had . . . curves. And what looked like cleavage.
"Holy smokes," she said, turning so she could see her butt in the mirror. She'd never thought much about her butt before, but after seeing it like this she decided it wasn't half-bad. The jacket was form-fitting and emphasized her breasts and the smallness of her waist.
"It's like a magical suit," she said in awe. And if she could manage to make it through the day without getting it dirty or tearing a hole in it, she'd consider it a success.