Neville & Deacon Page 4

  A chuckle erupted from Neville. “What, did you have to bribe them?”

  Deacon put a hand on Neville’s shoulder and guided him out of the room. “Not at all. They really are professional bodyguards. Having them protect you will free up the sheriff’s department to search for the guy that got away.”

  “Well, I don’t like to inconvenience people,” Neville said as he wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “Can they be invisible?”

  “I’ll talk to them about it. Would you like something to eat?”

  Neville nodded. “I could enjoy a snack. What do you have?”

  After listing off the items, Neville made his choices. They sat at the table in the center of the tiny kitchen, enjoying the chosen snack of crunchy peanut butter on graham crackers. It was new for Deacon, but he liked new things. It gave him another insight into the man seated across from him. Neville was quirky and full of surprises.

  “You forgot the milk,” the guy holding his heart complained. “My tongue is starting to stick to things.”

  He laughed as he got up to get two glasses of milk. “Remind me to buy more peanut butter. It might come in handy sometime in the future.”

  “For sticking things to other things?”

  “Exactly.”

  Neville blushed and giggled before drinking half of the glass of milk. A white, milky moustache was left behind on his upper lip. Deacon wanted to lick it off. But more than that, Deacon wanted Neville to lick his dick.

  “You’re having naughty thoughts,” Neville guessed accurately as he reached for another cracker square. As he stared Deacon in the eye, he poked out his tongue and began to lick the milk off with the tip of his tongue. Deacon’s cock sprang to life, pressing against his zipper. “This is great peanut butter. We don’t have this brand where I come from.”

  He watched as Neville picked up the jar and examined the label. Then he was screwing off the top and picking up the knife. He stuck it in without ceremony or explanation and scooped peanut butter out along the length of the blade.

  It suddenly occurred to Deacon that he knew where this was going. He wasn’t disappointed when Neville stuck out his tongue again and ran it along the knife. If it was a demonstration of things to come, Deacon was all in. The man seemed to have skills. Deacon didn’t know how much experience Neville had, if it was with other men or with peanut butter-covered knives, but he was definitely a natural.

  Not knowing how he did it, Deacon managed to get through the snack and the teasing without blowing a nut. If they had known each other longer, and better, he might have risked a kiss. He doubted Neville was ready for what Deacon had in mind, no matter how much he was playfully teasing Deacon.

  “Now what?” Neville asked after they cleaned up. “I think I’ve seen about your entire house. Do you have any games we can play? A deck of cards?”

  “We’ll do that later. I think we should go grocery shopping, now that we have you moved in.”

  * * * *

  As they drove to the supermarket, Neville looked around with interest and asked what seemed like a hundred questions about Silver, the people living there, and Deacon’s job as a deputy sheriff. By the time they parked the truck and got out, Neville was fairly knowledgeable about his new home.

  “I’ll pay you back for everything you buy for me,” Neville told him as he pushed a cart around the store and Deacon filled it with everything from milk to meat.

  Deacon ignored that.

  Ten minutes later Neville was staring at the assortment of groceries piled high in the cart. “Maybe I can take out a loan.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I need groceries. This will help begin the restocking process. I tend to eat out too much.”

  “Do you have a pro football team hiding somewhere in your house?” Neville asked in the most skeptical tone possible, as Deacon parked the overloaded cart near the checkout lanes and went for a second cart.

  He trailed behind helplessly as Deacon filled the second cart. The view was excellent, but the sense of helplessness was almost overwhelming. He wished he had the money to help pay for the food. His guilt increased with every can or package placed in the cart. By the time they reached the checkout with the second cart, even the sight of Deacon’s beautiful, jeans-encased ass couldn’t cheer Neville up.

  Neville had a change of heart when Deacon tossed a couple of thick steaks on the grill in the backyard an hour later. They had finished putting the groceries away in the pantry and freezer, although Deacon had suggested that they could wait until after they had eaten. However, Neville knew that by the time he finished the steak and sides, he would be too stuffed to move. And he’d been right. He collapsed on the couch and rubbed the mound of his belly. Deacon laughed and walked to the matching overstuffed chair. He sat down and picked up the remote for the TV.

  “Good plan. I can’t move.”

  Deacon changed channels until they found an action movie. Neville was content to sit there until it finished. Then he was stretching and yawning, although he still didn’t feel like moving. The house was so small his borrowed bedroom was only about fifteen feet away, but even that was too far.

  “Feeling better now? I know you were experiencing some guilt, because I bought all of this food.”

  The man was perceptive. Neville thought about it. “Yeah, I feel a lot better now. Especially after I saw how bare the cupboards and refrigerator were. But I still want to pay for my share.”

  “Including the bubble bath?”

  The heat flared in his face. “Hey, I paid for that separately! I can’t wait to use it. My apartment only has a shower. I’ve missed having a tub to soak in.”

  Deacon stood after turning off the TV. “Why don’t you go ahead and take your bath? I showered earlier and I’ll take one in the morning.”

  Once they had said good night, and Deacon was in his bedroom, Neville hurried to his room to undress and grab his pajamas. He crept along the few feet to the bathroom, turned on the light, and closed the door behind him. The bathtub was along the outer wall. There was a window above it, but the curtains were closed. He set everything but the bottle of bubble bath on the counter before he went to the tub to turn on the water. Neville uncapped the bottle and poured in two capfuls under the water rushing from the faucet. He smiled as the bubbles began to form on the surface of the water.

  Neville turned off the water when the level was high enough. Then he stepped in, a sigh escaping him as he lowered himself. Once he was seated, he leaned back and let the water’s heat and the scent of the bubble bath work their magic. He relaxed in the water until he was to the cooked noodle stage. Then he reached for the small bottle of shampoo from the toiletries he had brought with him and washed his hair. After that, he used a bar of moisturizing soap on his skin. He needed all the help that he could get. The icy winter wind was sucking all the life out of his skin. He would also slather lotion over all the body parts he could reach, before dressing in his pajamas.

  As he washed himself, Neville began to hum. It wasn’t long before the humming turned into singing. He belted out a popular song by one of his favorite singers and was startled when he heard the sound of a guitar playing along. Chuckling, Neville bounced and swayed in the water, singing while admiring Deacon’s musical skills.

  When he was finished Neville opened the drain and stood up. He reached for the handheld showerhead and turned on the water, completely forgetting that the water would be cold. Yelping, jumping, Neville slipped on the slick porcelain beneath his feet and went down rather ungracefully.

  The door flew open as he struggled to get himself upright. Deacon’s strong hands gripped him around the ribs and lifted him as his arms flailed. The heat of embarrassment rushed over his skin.

  “Are you okay?” Deacon inquired as he steadied Neville.

  Neville nodded. “I’m good now. Thanks. I just have to rinse off.” He was trembling from the unexpected fall. Fortunately, he hadn’t hit his head.

  “Okay. I’ll
leave you to it.”

  The door closed behind Deacon, and it was then that Neville realized Deacon had only been wearing red, skintight boxers. Wow. The image would be forever burned into his brain. Blinking, Neville retrieved the showerhead and tried again. It didn’t take long to rinse off. Ten minutes later his hair was combed, and his skin was silky from the lotion he had applied. He shook out the flannel pajamas his mother had sent him and dressed quickly. Then he was sliding his feet into slippers that were just like his father’s.

  Neville cleaned up the bathroom, grabbed his dirty clothes, and then opened the door. He dashed across the few feet to his borrowed bedroom and through the door, closing it behind him. There hadn’t been any sign of Deacon. He wondered if the man slept in his underwear or if he was naked at that very moment. The thought had his dick perking up with interest. It had been a long time since he’d had sex. But getting involved with Deacon was not in his plans. Scratching an itch wasn’t as important as getting his life straightened out.

  As he folded his dirty clothes and tucked them away in a nylon bag he kept for that purpose, he smiled, thinking about their impromptu jam session. Deacon was quite skilled with the guitar. Neville’s own skill was fair. He could hold his own with most other musicians. But he suspected he would discover Deacon’s skills surpassed his by leaps and bounds.

  When Neville heard the sexy, soul-wrenching strumming of a song being played on a classical guitar, his suspicions were justified. The man’s fingers were dancing over the strings. The sound echoed in Neville’s heart. Although not loud, the music resonated through him.

  Neville turned off the light and climbed into bed. He closed his eyes and sighed with pleasure. Then the smile faded as he realized how lonely he was and that he wanted things like love and companionship. Deacon seemed like the perfect candidate for fulfilling those dreams, but he wouldn’t rush into anything. The man had shown some interest in him. And Neville certainly found a lot of things to like about Deacon. Now they just had to get to know each other, if that’s what they both wanted. They needed to create something that would last.

  But would an upstanding citizen and deputy sheriff want anything beyond sex with a former drug abuser? They weren’t exactly perfectly matched. Or maybe they were.

  Falling asleep to Deacon playing a gentle song on the guitar, Neville decided he would do everything he could to become the man Deacon would want to keep forever.

  Chapter Four

  After introducing Neville to the four men that would be taking turns protecting him, Deacon stood back and watched their initial interaction with one another. Dragon, Snake, Pitbull, and Bear were all significantly taller than Neville. He stood in the center, gazing up at each as he turned slowly in the circle.

  “Are you guys any good at your jobs?” Neville asked curiously.

  “Pretty good.” This was from Dragon.

  Neville snorted. “That doesn’t make me feel much confidence. I told Deacon I didn’t need a babysitter, but he insists. He said you work for someone. Does he have anyone else who can protect me?”

  Snake put a hand on Neville’s shoulder so he could turn him around. “We’re damn good at our job. Dragon’s just lacking confidence today. His husband Randy took away his beer for forgetting to take out the trash.”

  The men surrounding Neville, with the exception of Dragon, laughed as if it was the best joke they had heard all year.

  “Any of you other guys married?”

  “We all are,” Pitbull told him.

  “Cool. I like your code names, too. I had one when I was ten.” Neville walked from between them. “Well, I have to get to work. Whichever one is coming with me, follow along.”

  All four men left with Neville, grumbling about being taken down a peg by the little guy. Deacon laughed and went for his coat. He felt a lot better about not being with Neville. The men would protect him. Hopefully Neville wouldn’t be annoyed for any longer than it took to find the dealer that got away. So far the Bellum brothers’ lawyer hadn’t shown up. One had been appointed to the man Deacon had arrested, because he had claimed hardship. No one had paid the bail, so he was still sitting in jail. It was unusual. As far as Deacon knew, this was the first time it had happened. The brothers had the dubious reputation of being dependable, in a twisted sort of way.

  While Deacon considered drug dealers to be some of the lowest forms of life, the brothers hadn’t been violent toward anyone until a couple of months before, when they had beaten the crap out of two people, one a woman, for not paying the money they owed for drugs. Now that their behavior had changed, Deacon and the others at the sheriff’s department believed that it would continue to deteriorate. The men had to be taken off the streets permanently, before they killed someone.

  Deacon didn’t want anyone to be killed, but he especially didn’t want anything to happen to Neville. The guy was growing on him, and Deacon suspected he wasn’t all that far away from falling in love with the adorable, fun-loving man.

  As he was driving across town to the sheriff’s department, his phone buzzed. He answered it and learned that there was complete chaos there. Ted Bellum, drug dealer he’d caught, had managed to find a weakness in the security system and escaped. The place was only a few months old and still, obviously, had some bugs to work out. This particular bug was a huge one.

  Deacon cursed, knowing what he and the other deputies would be doing the rest of the day, along with their regular duties. After checking in and speaking with Tim Macon, the sheriff, Deacon called the men protecting Neville, relieved he had arranged it. He learned Dragon was with Neville. Deacon called him, and they spoke briefly, Dragon promising to keep a watch for the brothers. The men weren’t law enforcement, but their jobs as security and bodyguards demanded they know the people in the area that could be a threat to their clients.

  He began his search immediately. The dispatcher gave him and two other deputies the last address they had on the brothers. Those two characters were smart about some things. Despite the number of times their ramshackle house outside of town had been searched, the sheriff’s department had never found drugs, drug paraphernalia, or any other sign that the two were involved with illegal drug activity. It was too bad that the brothers hadn’t been part of the group the sheriff’s department had busted for running a meth lab. Those people were now spending a few years in prison.

  The search lasted well into the evening. The sheriff sent Deacon home, along with several other deputies. The second and third shift would take up where they left off. Law enforcement authorities outside of the sheriff department’s range were also on alert. It wasn’t a high priority for them, but Deacon knew they would be alert for any sign of the Bellums.

  Bone-weary, Deacon walked into the house at nearly nine o’clock. Snake was sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine. He placed it on the coffee table and stood. “It’s been quiet so far. Now, I have to get out of here before the scent of that food kills me. I have my own supper waiting for me at home.” He walked toward the door. Deacon followed. “By the way, Neville’s hilarious.”

  “Yeah, he is. See you tomorrow and thanks.”

  Deacon and Snake shook hands before the man left. He locked the door after him. Refocusing his attention, he took notice of the scent of something delicious filling the air. He sniffed and smiled. They had spoken earlier, when Deacon had told him that he would be late getting home and that Neville shouldn’t wait to eat. He had even suggested calling Vinnie’s Pizzeria and having a pizza delivered. Neville had obviously chosen to make supper.

  His new roommate turned from the sink with a smile. There was an apron around his waist. Deacon had no clue where it had come from. He didn’t remember owning an apron. “Hey, Deacon. You’re just in time. I’ll be taking the biscuits out of the oven in a few minutes.”

  “Do I have time to take a shower?”

  Neville nodded. “Sure you do. There’s nothing that can’t wait. Take your time.”

  “Thanks.”<
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  As he washed away the day’s grime, and eased the muscles of his back and legs with hot water, Deacon hoped he didn’t fall asleep halfway through supper. After he turned off the water and stepped out of the tub, he reached for a towel and dried his body quickly. Having remembered to bring his flannel sleep pants with him, he pulled them on, as well as the T-shirt.

  Gathering up his dirty clothes, he tossed them in the hamper and headed across the hallway to his bedroom. He shoved his feet into slippers. The floor was icy, and he wasn’t going to freeze his feet because Harry was too cheap to put insulation in under the house. It was one of many things that needed to be done, something it was costing Deacon directly, because he paid the heating bill.

  Maybe it was time to look for another place, Deacon thought as he headed to the kitchen. The table was laid out with several dishes of food. “Did I miss a holiday?” he joked as his stomach rumbled appreciatively.

  “Nah. I just figured you’d be hungry, after working so long today. I bet you didn’t take the time to get more than a snack, did you?”

  Neville had guessed correctly. “You’re right. I didn’t. I had a few of those peanut butter, cheese cracker things. Do you need help with anything?”

  “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink with your meal. So, I guess you could get that.”

  “When I’m home, I like milk with my meals. What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have water. No ice.”

  The roasted beef was tender and juicy. Deacon moaned as the flavors spread over his tongue, and he didn’t think he stopped moaning until he finished the last of the potatoes and carrots on his plate, wiping up the gravy with the fluffy biscuits Neville had made from scratch.

  “I don’t think I can move,” Deacon complained as he leaned back in the chair and rubbed a hand over his stomach. “That’s the best meal I’ve had in ages. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

  “My mom and grandmother are great cooks. My one grandpa loves to grill. The other’s specialty is smoking different meats.”