Especially considering how much I teased Lauren about her and Carter before they officially announced to all of us that they were together.
I wondered what Deacon’s placed looked like as I’d never seen it. I wondered if it would be as nice as Lauren and Carter’s.
Lauren’s cabin was absolutely gorgeous. It was always beautiful, but she had made a lot of improvements and enhancements since she and Carter had their son and got married. Now it was nothing short of spectacular. This was the kind of place I could totally see myself making into my home.
I could see myself sitting on the sprawling back porch drinking coffee as the sun came up, wrapped up in a blanket by the fire pit on a fall night, playing with a dog in the front yard, working in a vegetable garden in the side. It was all so clear, so easy to picture.
This was the kind of life I never would have thought I wanted until I’d seen it. Now it was so easy to imagine myself living up here, surrounded by those beautiful woods I used to believe were enchanted.
“Rebecca?”
Desiree’s voice snapped me out of my meandering thoughts, and I realized I was just standing there beside the car, staring at Deacon’s cabin. Shaking my head to clear the fog of the daydream, I smiled.
“Sorry. My brain went on a little vacation there, apparently.”
Desiree laughed. “No worries. Come on. The fun’s in the back.”
We walked around the cabin to the back where the fire was already roaring.
“Grab a drink,” Lauren said when we got to the porch.
I went over to the cooler and pulled out one of the chilled beers partially buried in ice inside. Cracking it open, I took a long, satisfying pull as I stood and stared at the hypnotizing flames. For right then, it was just a few of us. Desiree, Lauren, Aiden, and Carter were all behind the cabin, and I could hear voices inside that told me Harleigh and Brett were probably there as well.
Soon others started arriving. I greeted everyone I’d met before and introduced myself to the new faces. It didn’t take long for the face I wanted to see, step off the back deck and appear in the glow of the fire. Deacon looked across the warm light at me like he could feel me looking back. A slight smile came to his lips before he turned back to the man who he was having a conversation with.
“It is such a mom thing to bring!” Harleigh said as she came out of the house laughing. “I really am kind of ashamed of myself.”
Lauren laughed and shook her head. “I think it’s adorable. Rebecca, come here and look at this.”
I turned away from Deacon and joined the women by one of the food tables set up on the porch. Harleigh had her face hanging down into one hand and was still giggling. In front of her was a large platter of cupcakes decorated and organized to look like a butterfly.
“What happened here?” I asked.
That only made Harleigh giggle harder.
“Apparently she got sucked into the internet food crafting whirlpool when she was planning the birthday party for the twins and found all kinds of treats she wanted to make, and this one didn’t quite make the cut.”
“But it was just too cute not to make it,” Harleigh said, opening her hands up toward the cupcakes like she was trying to display them as evidence of her assertion.
I nodded. “Yep, I’m with you. I vote there should be a decorative cupcake extravaganza at every gathering from now on.”
“I’m not sure this is quite an extravaganza, but I’m going to work on it,” Harleigh said.
For the rest of the evening, I ate my way through the buffet and sipped my beer, just enjoying being there. I caught a few glimpses of Deacon but didn’t let myself stare at him. There was something wonderful about a gathering so casual, comfortable, and easy. There were no pretenses, nothing formal or demanding. Everyone was just there to have fun, and I felt welcome in a way I hadn’t in so long before my friendship with Lauren really solidified.
It was almost like having a family again.
5
DEACON
Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump-thump.
Whoever was playing the drums needed to stop. It was entirely too early in the morning, and there was no damn reason for someone to be smashing on a bass drum. I was trying to sleep in a little.
Thump-thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump-thump.
“For the love of,” I began, opening my eyes and immediately regretting it.
Suddenly, I realized the drum sound wasn’t coming from outside the house or in one of the other rooms. It was coming from inside my own skull. The thumping was the wonderful hangover migraine that I usually avoided by simply not drinking that much. Usually, I left that to Everett, choosing to be the sober one between us so I could drive if need be. But with the bonfire at our own place, I’d indulged.