Neville & Deacon_Lucky Enough_Silver's Studs 13 Read online

  

  Silver’s Studs 13

  Neville & Deacon: Lucky Deacon

  Neville Swift is filled with dreams. They include love and success as an artist. When he arrives in Silver, he doesn’t know what to expect, but he does find that dreams can come true. Deacon West is the beginning to a future he wanted, but had never expected to be lucky enough to have.

  When Deacon West saw the man bundled up in a blanket and sitting on the floor after failing to deal with a bully, he knew he had found the man for him. Neville was perfect, even with his red nose and watery eyes. Falling in love was something he had wanted for a long time, but hadn’t been lucky enough to find it, until he met Neville. Unfortunately, there were threats to their love and their future. Deacon did all he could to protect the man who had stolen his heart.

  Genre: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Contemporary

  Length: 40,080 words

  NEVILLE & DEACON:

  LUCKY ENOUGH

  Silver's Studs 13

  Lynn Stark

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  NEVILLE & DEACON: LUCKY ENOUGH

  Copyright © 2018 by Lynn Stark

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-124-7

  First Publication: April 2018

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2018 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lynn Stark lives with her husband in Ohio, which is in the Midwestern section of the United States. While writing and reading are two of her passions, she travels when time and schedules allow. She loves to meet people and discover new things. One of her dreams is to find a place that has the special magic her fictional town of Silver possesses.

  For all titles by Lynn Stark, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/lynn-stark

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  NEVILLE & DEACON:

  LUCKY ENOUGH

  Silver's Studs 13

  LYNN STARK

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  Neville held his head between his hands and whimpered, as the music pounding against the shared wall of his apartment echoed in his skull. He had never been so sick in his life and wished he would just drop over dead. Or, at the very least, be able to fall asleep until he felt better.

  Pulling the thick fleece blanket up around his shoulders, Neville stiffened his spine, knowing what he had to do was going to be unpleasant. The guy in the apartment next door was a total asshole, and Neville hated having to deal with him. Hell, he even hated passing Doug in the hall, he was so intimidated by the huge, domineering jerk. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Neville wasn’t such a wimp with marshmallow filling. He owned it. It was hard not to, when he had been like that all his life.

  Taking a deep breath, Neville opened his apartment door and took shuffling steps along the hall until he reached the door to Doug’s apartment. His arm shook violently as he made a fist and lifted it to knock on the door. He was tentative at first. He didn’t want to be out here, and he certainly didn’t want to be confronting the bully. When there was no response, Neville knocked again, but harder this time.

  When the door was suddenly opened, Neville stumbled backward. He was able to remain on his feet, until Doug stepped forward and shoved him with both hands. Neville fell back, hitting the wall behind him. He slid down it and looked up as Doug stood over him. The guy was angry, and Neville feared Doug would kick him.

  “What the fuck do you want now, whiny ass?”

  “C-could you—you turn down the music? I’m s-sick and t-t-trying to sleep.”

  “Oh, poor baby,” Doug sneered as he scowled at Neville. “No, I won’t turn it down. Now get the fuck over it.”

  Doug did kick him then. Although the thought had gone through his mind, Neville hadn’t really expected it. The pain was intense. Neville grabbed his thigh and held on, breathing through the pain shooting through him like tiny spears. He was only vaguely aware of the door to Doug’s apartment slamming hard.

  Neville sat there, completely defeated, and pulled his blanket up around his ears as he stared at the wall across from him. As he did so, he absently wondered why walls were ever painted white. It was so boring. He loved color. Color was life. Maybe that was why his hair was dyed blue. Of course it was, he thought with his only smile of the day.

  He was about to get up when a movement at the top of the stairs caught his attention. His eyes widened when he saw a large stranger striding toward him. The man only got bigger the nearer he got. He was wearing a uniform, part of which were snug jeans and a cowboy hat. Neville resisted drooling.

  “Where?” The one word was spoken in a deep voice. The sound went straight through him, but not in a bad way.

  Pushing a finger over the top edge of the blanket, Neville pointed toward Doug’s door. He watched as the stranger, a deputy sheriff, unsnapped his holster before knocking on the door and kept his hand at the ready over the grip of the pistol. It wasn’t a wimp’s knock either. Neville admired the man’s spine, as well as the broad shoulders, the long back, nicely rounded ass, and the thickly muscled thighs.

  When Doug opened the door a second time, Neville nearly giggled when he heard the man’s demand of “Are you fucking stu—” cut off abruptly, having obviously expected it to be Neville coming back for more. He could be slow at times, but he wasn’t stupid.

  “I’m Deputy Sheriff Deacon West. There’s been a third noise complaint made against you. I will give you one warning, Douglas Chambers. Keep the volume at a reasonable level from now on, or face losing your place here in the building, and receive a fine for noise. The rules here are strict. You signed the agreement when you came here through the program.”

  Neville was a lot of things, but he wasn’t heartless. Every resident of the building, all twenty-four of them, was part of a program that helped people get their lives in order. Doug had not shared his past with Neville as some of the others had done. He had heard of the program a few years ago and knew it had been successful for many people. It had taken time, but Neville had finally gotten his head out of his ass and asked for help. The drugs were eating away at his life. It wouldn’t be long before he died. People he knew had already succumbed. There were powerful drugs being put onto the street by unscrupulous people. Money was the reason, but somewhere in their business model, they seemed to have forgotten to want peopl
e to live long enough to make a second purchase of their lethal product.

  “I was just listening to a little music.”

  “Keep it down. Now, I want you to explain why this gentleman behind me is on the floor. Did you have something to do with that?”

  Neville was trying to get to his feet, but he was tangled up in his blanket. His sock-covered foot slipped on the blanket, and he fell back on his butt, his head smacking the wall. A sigh escaped him. It just wasn’t his day.

  “I might have.”

  Looking up as the deputy turned around, Neville watched as he crouched in front of him. The guy was still taller than he was sitting there on the floor. “What do you want to do, baby? Do you want to file assault charges against Mr. Chambers?”

  “No. I just want to go to sleep.” He sniffled as his nose began to run. He needed a tissue. Before he knew it, or could protest, Neville was lifted and carried toward the open door of his apartment. “You don’t have to carry me,” he said finally in protest. The man carrying him was so large he felt like a child.

  Deputy West ignored him, closing the door behind them, and carried Neville to the couch where he had been sleeping. The TV was in the living room, and he had been watching it earlier, before he had tried to sleep, and before the asshole Doug had awakened him with his loud, horrible music.

  Sitting up, with the blanket tucked around him, the tall deputy straightened and stared down at Neville while Neville stared back. “What’s your name, cutie?”

  The man certainly had a pension for pet names. Neville frowned at him. “Is it appropriate for you to call me that? Or baby?”

  Broad shoulders lifted. The expression on the ruggedly handsome face told Neville he wasn’t particularly concerned. “You are cute. But, if you don’t want me to call you cutie, or baby, I’ll address you by your name as soon as you tell me what it is.”

  “Neville Swift.”

  “Okay, Mr. Swift.”

  He scowled up at the deputy. “Now you’re just being a jerk.”

  “That’s nothing new. Now, Mr. Swift, is there anything I can do for you?”

  Handcuff me and fuck me through the mattress would be a good start. The thought went through his mind, shocking him. He felt his face heat up because he had almost said the words aloud.

  “Uh, no. I just need to get some sleep.”

  “It’s probably best. You look wiped out. Do you need a drink of water or something to eat? I can get something for you before I leave.”

  “A glass of water would be nice. The kitchen is right over there.”

  As soon as he said it he felt like an idiot. His face got hotter. Deputy Deacon West chuckled softly. “Yeah, I think I can find it.”

  When he turned and walked the few feet to the kitchen that was near the door, Neville admired the man’s body one last time. It was certainly a very fine specimen. He wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that Deputy West had played football in the past.

  Neville looked anywhere but at the handsome deputy as he returned with a glass of water. “Thank you.” He took the glass and lifted it to his lips, taking several refreshing swallows before he placed it on the end table. “Much better.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No thank you. I’ll just take a nap now.”

  “Okay. Well, Neville, if you need anything else, just call me.” Deacon put a business card on the end table.

  “Thanks.”

  The deputy left then, closing the door firmly behind him. Neville heard the lock engage. He had to wonder why he felt so lonely suddenly. Normally he cherished his solitude. It helped him with his creativity. But this time he felt as if he had lost something, and it confused him.

  Neville snuggled down into the pillows and pulled the blanket tightly around him. Closing his eyes, he worried his lower lip, wondering why being alone wasn’t what he wanted at that moment.

  “You certainly are a complicated man,” Neville told himself before yawning hugely. “I don’t think you know what you want.”

  But he did, another part of him inwardly whispered. He wanted Deacon to call him baby again.

  Neville fell asleep thinking about how it would feel to be held tightly by strong arms and be made love to, as he never had been made love to before.

  It was a beautiful dream.

  * * * *

  Deacon laughed softly as he patrolled the streets of Silver and thought about Neville Swift. The little guy sure was spunky, and it made Deacon want to get to know him better. He had spent the better part of the last decade alone. His partner of three years had decided he needed a younger man. It had hurt, but Deacon had let him go without protest. Considering Deacon had been twenty-two at the time, and was six years younger than William, he didn’t know how much younger the man could go without simply looking foolish or being arrested. From what he had heard from mutual friends, William had made the circuit of hot and sexy younger men, but never settled down again. He had died in a car accident a year ago.

  There were times when Deacon had missed him, having thought they were perfectly suited for each other. Now he put it down to being young and full of dreams. The older, sophisticated man had all but mesmerized Deacon. But he hadn’t experienced enough of the world to know exactly what he needed in a partner. William hadn’t been it.

  Was Neville Swift? The little cutie was about as different from William as a man could be. Deacon’s attraction had been instantaneous. As soon as he had seen the messy, spiked blue hair and the emerald-green eyes, Deacon had been lost. Normally he wasn’t attracted to small men, but he would make an exception this time. The man’s scent, blended with some menthol medication, had shot through him. Deacon had breathed it in, hoping he didn’t get caught doing so. What man wanted to be sniffed during a first meeting?

  And the man’s outrage at being called baby and cutie. Deacon chuckled as he parked the SUV. Neville wasn’t about to be taken advantage of by anyone. It was too bad he lived beside a bully. Deacon hadn’t scared him, but Doug had. Hopefully the jerk had taken Deacon’s warning seriously. He was already close to losing his assistance from the program that had brought him here. Being in contact with law enforcement was not a positive, as far as the people running the program were concerned. Of course, they were given some leeway because of the issues that had brought them to Silver, but they still had rules that needed to be followed. Deacon imagined that once he reported Doug’s behavior, Doug would be required to attend anger management classes. Shoving Neville had crossed a line.

  Deacon drove back to the new sheriff’s station and parked in the spacious garage. There was still an office in the center of town, but the new building was where the administration offices and jail were located. As far as Deacon was concerned, the garage was one of the best parts of the new structure. It would help keep the vehicles free of snow and ice during the winter.

  As he was buzzed through the security door in the garage, Deacon greeted the guard there. “How’s it going, Bob?”

  “Good. How was the call?”

  “I gave the guy a last warning.”

  “It’s too bad, but some people just don’t learn. What did you bring for supper?”

  That brought Deacon up short. He cursed and turned around. Everyone working Saturday always brought something for their coworkers to share. It was a nice thing and brought everyone closer together as a team. The other shifts did the same. This was the first time in a long time that he had forgotten. Thoughts of Neville had shoved everything else out.

  “I completely forgot about it. I’ll have to go get something. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “Well, no one brought any dessert, which is weird, unless we’ve decided to eat healthier and didn’t tell me.” Bob laughed. He loved his sweets. “There’s plenty of chips and stuff. Cherry and Peaches brought fried chicken and egg rolls. John brought a huge pan of chili.”

  “Okay, that gives me an idea of what to get. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Bob grinned. “Su
re thing. You might want to get some bread, butter, and cheese to go with the chili.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Sour cream? Someone brought a pan of baked potatoes.”

  Deacon’s stomach grumbled. He loved his food. While he tried to eat as healthy as possible, he saved a day or two of the week to satisfy cravings. Knowing chocolate cake would go over well, Deacon headed to The Chocolate Café on the square. It was owned by a creative genius named Gilly Redford, husband to several people. There were his husbands Colt Redford and Avery Redford, then wives Clarissa and Bliss. Deacon couldn’t recall how many children they were now up to, but it was a large and happy family. It was too much for Deacon. He had friends who were in polyamorous relationships, and saw nothing wrong with it, but knew he would have trouble coping with loving more than one person at a time.

  That brought his thoughts back to Neville as he looked over the selection of chocolate delicacies in the showcase. The place was packed. There were several booths and tables, and they were all filled, as people enjoyed a relaxing time with a treat while chatting with family and friends. He suspected a few were there to purchase the discounts offered at the end of the day to empty the display cases. There was no reason to keep them for those less fortunate. Gilly made certain to provide for those wishing for something tasty from the kitchen. Money wasn’t an obstacle for anyone. Deacon knew if someone walked into the café and asked for something, without having the ability to pay, they would receive it. Gilly would also send out treats to the seniors and physically challenged, wanting everyone to be able to enjoy the small pleasures in life.

  This was common thinking among most of the people of Silver. There was a strong compulsion to help others. It was all but bred into them. Deacon knew that one of the best things about living in Silver was that every citizen had healthcare provided for them, by a fund created by the wealthy men and women of Silver, past and present.