were going over. She sighed, seemed about to speak, then stopped. She worried her lower lip between her teeth.
"Lisa?" he asked, really concerned now. For the past week, she'd been subdued. At first, he'd thought it was because she was feeling awkward around him again, but now he saw something had to be bothering her. "What's wrong?"
To his surprise, tears glistened in her eyes. Her fingers trembled as they flipped through the pages on her lap so fast he knew she couldn't possibly be really seeing them. He reached out and put his hand on hers.
"Talk to me," he said softly.
She looked up at him, still biting at her lower lip. Soon she would draw blood. Lisa's mouth opened, then closed. She struggled to speak. Finally, whatever had been holding her back let go, and a torrent of words poured out.
"It started with my watch," she said. "Then my glasses. And they were in the microwave! But the burrito was on the counter. And my stuff went missing from the laundry, but I just thought maybe Allegra had borrowed it. But she says she hasn't, and she has a closet full of new clothes I've never seen, but where's my stuff? And--"
"Slow down," Deacon said. Her rapid-fire, slightly hysterical response alarmed him. He'd never seen her so distraught. "Take a deep breath and start over."
A few deep breaths seemed to calm her. She even managed a weak smile as she looked at him. "Sorry."
"It's okay."
They sat like that in Lisa's tiny office just staring at each other. With anybody else, it might have quickly become uncomfortable, but Deacon didn't mind just looking at her. Lisa flashed a weak smile at him.
"A lot of strange things have been happening, that's all." She sighed. "Terry seems to think I'm working too hard."
Deacon knew Terry's real problem with Lisa's recent work assignment and it wasn't the long hours. "It's too bad he isn't more understanding."
Lisa nodded, and for just one second, Deacon felt a flash of guilt. It wasn't right to take advantage of her mood like this. Then he thought of Terry Hewitt's arms around Lisa and the guilt vanished.
Lisa peered up at him with wet eyes. Then she smiled. "You are a dog."
"What?"
"You," she repeated slowly, "are a dog! Deacon Campbell, are you trying to cause trouble for Terry?"
She'd caught him out. Damn. Why did he always forget how smart Lisa was? The best response seemed unrepentant honesty.
"Sure am," he said with a grin.
Lisa laughed. The sound was a welcome relief from her earlier worried tone. She punched him lightly on the shoulder.
"He should be more understanding,'" she mocked, putting a lot prissier tone into the statement than he had. "More like you maybe?"
Now his defense was up. "Well, yeah, like me."
"Why?" Lisa asked him. "Why are you trying to cause trouble?"
Deacon, who usually had a ready answer for any question, remained silent. He couldn't tell her it was because he was jealous. He couldn't tell her the truth that he wanted her in his arms again and he wanted a second chance to prove to her he was the kind of man she could fall in love with.
Instead, he shrugged. "I guess I'm just a troublemaker."
"I guess you are," she said, and seemed to be waiting for more.
All at once, the tiny office seemed even tinier. Had their knees been touching this entire time and he only now noticed? Deacon realized he could smell her perfume, a mouth-watering scent like vanilla. He swallowed hard to keep the drool from dripping out of his mouth. Three years ago, he would've kissed her and damn the consequences.
"It's getting late," he said. "We'd better finish up these designs."
Did she look disappointed? He wouldn't let himself think so. Deacon turned his attention back to the pile of papers they were looking at.
"Yes, we should. I have a date tonight with Terry and I promised him I wouldn't be late this time." Lisa paused and he felt the weight of her gaze burning a hole in the side of his cheek.
Deacon pretended to be engrossed in the designs. She was testing
"Lisa?" he asked, really concerned now. For the past week, she'd been subdued. At first, he'd thought it was because she was feeling awkward around him again, but now he saw something had to be bothering her. "What's wrong?"
To his surprise, tears glistened in her eyes. Her fingers trembled as they flipped through the pages on her lap so fast he knew she couldn't possibly be really seeing them. He reached out and put his hand on hers.
"Talk to me," he said softly.
She looked up at him, still biting at her lower lip. Soon she would draw blood. Lisa's mouth opened, then closed. She struggled to speak. Finally, whatever had been holding her back let go, and a torrent of words poured out.
"It started with my watch," she said. "Then my glasses. And they were in the microwave! But the burrito was on the counter. And my stuff went missing from the laundry, but I just thought maybe Allegra had borrowed it. But she says she hasn't, and she has a closet full of new clothes I've never seen, but where's my stuff? And--"
"Slow down," Deacon said. Her rapid-fire, slightly hysterical response alarmed him. He'd never seen her so distraught. "Take a deep breath and start over."
A few deep breaths seemed to calm her. She even managed a weak smile as she looked at him. "Sorry."
"It's okay."
They sat like that in Lisa's tiny office just staring at each other. With anybody else, it might have quickly become uncomfortable, but Deacon didn't mind just looking at her. Lisa flashed a weak smile at him.
"A lot of strange things have been happening, that's all." She sighed. "Terry seems to think I'm working too hard."
Deacon knew Terry's real problem with Lisa's recent work assignment and it wasn't the long hours. "It's too bad he isn't more understanding."
Lisa nodded, and for just one second, Deacon felt a flash of guilt. It wasn't right to take advantage of her mood like this. Then he thought of Terry Hewitt's arms around Lisa and the guilt vanished.
Lisa peered up at him with wet eyes. Then she smiled. "You are a dog."
"What?"
"You," she repeated slowly, "are a dog! Deacon Campbell, are you trying to cause trouble for Terry?"
She'd caught him out. Damn. Why did he always forget how smart Lisa was? The best response seemed unrepentant honesty.
"Sure am," he said with a grin.
Lisa laughed. The sound was a welcome relief from her earlier worried tone. She punched him lightly on the shoulder.
"He should be more understanding,'" she mocked, putting a lot prissier tone into the statement than he had. "More like you maybe?"
Now his defense was up. "Well, yeah, like me."
"Why?" Lisa asked him. "Why are you trying to cause trouble?"
Deacon, who usually had a ready answer for any question, remained silent. He couldn't tell her it was because he was jealous. He couldn't tell her the truth that he wanted her in his arms again and he wanted a second chance to prove to her he was the kind of man she could fall in love with.
Instead, he shrugged. "I guess I'm just a troublemaker."
"I guess you are," she said, and seemed to be waiting for more.
All at once, the tiny office seemed even tinier. Had their knees been touching this entire time and he only now noticed? Deacon realized he could smell her perfume, a mouth-watering scent like vanilla. He swallowed hard to keep the drool from dripping out of his mouth. Three years ago, he would've kissed her and damn the consequences.
"It's getting late," he said. "We'd better finish up these designs."
Did she look disappointed? He wouldn't let himself think so. Deacon turned his attention back to the pile of papers they were looking at.
"Yes, we should. I have a date tonight with Terry and I promised him I wouldn't be late this time." Lisa paused and he felt the weight of her gaze burning a hole in the side of his cheek.
Deacon pretended to be engrossed in the designs. She was testing
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