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“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Only a hostage situation,” I muttered.
Julissa pointed at him. “Deacon, if you're here to tell me something went wrong with the flowers, the cake, or the groom, I don't want to know.”
“Nice to see you, too, Jules. Congrats on your big day.” Deacon smiled as he produced a small jewelry box. “Grandma Ruth asked me to bring this up.”
Julissa opened it, revealing a pearl bracelet, and immediately teared up.
“Oh, no,” the makeup artist announced. “Nobody cries until after the ceremony.”
While Julissa was distracted, Deacon caught my eye. “Got a second?”
Something in his tone made me pause. “Sure.”
He nodded toward the hallway. I followed him out, grateful for the temporary escape from the estrogen-fueled cross-examination. The door clicked shut behind us, muffling the sound of laughter and someone yelling about bobby pins.
Deacon took a deep breath. “So.”
My gaze sharpened. “Why does everyone keep starting conversations with me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like they're about to ask me a question I don't want to answer.”
He smiled. “You seem a little defensive.”
Oh for the love…
I crossed my arms. “What’s up?”
He studied me for a moment, then he asked, “What's going on with you and my brother?”
I’m not sure why I’d held out hope that the wedding day would come and go and I’d never have to have this conversation. That was extremely naive of me.
“What do you mean?” I replied in faux innocence.
Deacon raised an eyebrow. Before today, I’d loved that eyebrow. It was the eyebrow of a man who knew he was being lied to before anyone had actually started lying. I’d witnessed many a man in boardrooms get exposed for the unrepentant jackasses they were after the appearance of that eyebrow.
“You and Damon.”
“What about us?”
He gave me a look. “Mikayla.”
“Deacon.”
“Are we really going to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Pretend you don't know what I'm asking?”
I sighed. “I don't know what you want me to say.”
“The truth would be a refreshing start.”
Well. That was unfortunate. Because the truth was complicated.
