tongue, answering it with her own. He could feel his arousal build. He was dimly aware they were on the street, barely masked by the stone buildings on either side. He could feel himself stop caring.
But then her palms went to his chest, and she gave the lightest of pushes.
He immediately broke the kiss and backed off. His breathing was deep and ragged, and his head was swirling with a cocktail of hormones and emotions. What on earth had just happened?
“I’m sorry,” she said, with a tremble to her tone.
He took another half step back and blew out a breath, struggling to get his bearings. “I’m the one who’s sorry. That was my fault.”
“It’s just...” She glanced to the sidewalk behind him.
“Anybody could have seen us.” He finished her thought.
“It’s complicated,” she said.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she meant it was complicated because of her feelings for Mayor Watkins or because of Frederick’s recent passing. She still wore her wedding ring.
“I understand,” Deacon said. Whether it was Hank or Frederick, Deacon’s job right now was the same, behave like a perfect gentleman. “I wasn’t trying to rush you or push you. I’d be happy just to take you out for coffee.”
A man’s voice sounded behind Deacon. “Callie?”
Concern crossed her face.
Deacon turned to see Hank Watkins on the sidewalk behind them.
“Hello, Hank,” she said, shifting from behind Deacon, putting some more space between the two of them. “You remember Deacon Holt?”
Hank’s attention shifted to Deacon for a brief second, just long enough to be dismissive.
“I was looking for you at the bakery,” Hank said to her.
“Oh?” Guilt was pretty clear in her voice.
Deacon would bet she was either dating Hank, or at least stringing him along.
He decided to test his theory by shifting closer to her. “I don’t know if Callie mentioned it, but my company, Mobi Transportation, is looking to open a new terminal in North Carolina.”
As Mayor, the prospect should have pleased Hank. But as Callie’s boyfriend, it would annoy him.
It annoyed him.
“I see,” Hank said, jaw tightening and eyes going hard. “Am I to understand you’re considering Charleston?”
“He wanted to keep it quiet,” Callie said in a rush, putting the space back between her and Deacon. It sounded suspiciously like she was making an excuse for keeping the information from Hank. “For business purposes,” she finished.
“Callie has been very kind in helping me understand the city,” Deacon said.
Hank’s nostrils flared.
“Did you need to talk about something?” she asked Hank.
Hank refocused his attention on her, and his expression smoothed out. “I spoke with Lawrence this morning. I understand it’s good news all around.”
“You mean the permit?”
“I mean the donation. Well played, Callie.”
“It wasn’t—”
“She was just telling me about the positive outcome,” Deacon put in.
Hank’s gaze hardened on Deacon. “She was, was she?”
“I agree with you,” Deacon told Hank, pretending to be oblivious to the undercurrents. “The donation was a good move. The permit should be in place this week, and she can get moving on the renovations.”
“She doesn’t need your support,” Hank said.
“I’m standing right here,” Callie said.
“Forgive me.” His tone dripping with remorse, Hank stepped forward and took her hands.
Deacon wanted to rip her from Hank’s hold. He waited for her to break it, but she didn’t.
Part of Deacon wanted to repeat his invitation for coffee, nail it down here and now. But the smarter part of him wanted to keep Hank in the dark about his intentions. If Hank knew Deacon was interested in Callie, he’d block him from every angle. Better to make a strategic temporary retreat and let Hank feel overconfident.
“I have to be on a call in a few minutes,” Deacon told Callie.
“Sorry to have kept you.” She finally withdrew from Hank’s hand-hold.
“See you later,” Deacon told her in a breezy tone that masked his frustration.
He left them, taking swift, long strides along the sidewalk.
Half a block away, he pulled out his phone. He dialed Tyrell’s private number.
“Yes?” came Tyrell’s gruff answer.
“I’m in,” Deacon said.
There was a silent pause on the line. “You’ll romance Callie?”
“Draft the paperwork.” Deacon ended the call.
* * *
Callie wasn’t going to think of this as a date. It was true that coffee with Deacon had turned into dinner. But that was only a matter of convenience. It was easier for her to get away in the evening. Downright Sweet catered to the breakfast and lunch crowd, closing at six, after patrons picked up takeout on their way home.
She didn’t know where she and Deacon were going for dinner, so she’d gone neutral with a sleeveless midnight blue cocktail dress. Its scoop neckline sparkled with a spray of subtle crystals. The waist was fitted, and it flared slightly to mid-thigh.
She’d popped her little diamond studs into her ears, pairing them with a delicate gold diamond chip pendant. Her black, high-heeled sandals were classic and comfortable. Her makeup had turned out a little heavier than usual, and when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she realized there was a shine of anticipation in her eyes.
She spotted her wedding set in the mirror.
She lifted her hand, spreading her fingers and touching the solitaire diamond.
She was too jazzed tonight for something that wasn’t a date.
She closed her eyes. Then she pulled off the rings. Before she could change her mind, she opened her jewelry box and set them on the red velvet. She’d already kissed Deacon once. If she was going to do it again, she had to admit to herself that Frederick was in her past.
She smoothed her dress, taking a last look at herself in the mirror.
Then
