“There is no me and Emily.” His eyes begged her to believe him, and God, she wanted to, but how could she? “I haven’t slept in the same bed with my ex-wife… I haven’t had sex with my ex-wife since we were married, and that side of our relationship fizzled out after the first few months.” He swallowed, throat working. “I’ll understand if you choose to walk away after the lies, the secrets, the fucked-up way I went about everything, but I need to explain. Will you let me?”

Deacon had never talked about his marriage with Emily or the reason it fell apart, but she’d always wondered, had guessed it had to be something pretty bad for Deacon to be so closed off about it, especially with his sisters. “What happened?”

He released a shaky breath. “It’s kind of hard to get a hard-on over a woman who lies about being pregnant to get you back, manipulating you into marrying her because she knows the pain and guilt you felt when your mother left…that because I’d opened my mouth, told my father what I’d seen, my sisters grew up without their mother. She knew I wouldn’t want that for my own child.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I told her, you see, about you and me.”

Alex stood frozen, struggling to take it all in.

“She called that morning, the morning after you gave yourself to me.” His voice shook on the last word, so much longing in his gaze, she struggled for breath. “I told her that she had to stop calling, that I was in love with you. She broke down, told me she was pregnant. After that, after she told me she was carrying my child…” He shook his head. “I didn’t think I had any other choice. So I went back to her. And fuck, leaving you that day…it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” His nostrils flared. “I found out months later there was no baby, never had been. I told her we were through.”

Alex was stunned. How could Emily do that to him? Lie and scheme like that? “What happened?” she whispered.

“She threatened to kill herself if I left. If I told anyone what she’d done. Convinced me she’d fall apart if I didn’t stay. I planned to leave when she was better, but every time I thought she was doing okay, that finally I could leave, she’d relapse. I was stuck in that nightmare for four years.

“Then I caught her in bed with Steve—another ploy, this time an attempt to make me jealous, to get our relationship back. It blew up in her face. I left.”

“Oh my God.” He’d been through hell because of that selfish bitch.

“It gets worse. I found out yesterday there’s nothing wrong with her, there never was. She’s been manipulating me all these years. Her family cut her off after what happened between us, and she was biding her time with Steve until I wised up and took her back. She used her fake illness to keep me tied to her.” He held Alex’s gaze. “But you threw a monkey wrench in the works and screwed up her plan to win me back. So she pulled the suicide card again. That’s why I was with her, why I couldn’t tell you what was going on. I was afraid what she’d do—that she’d harm herself. She gave me no other choice. I was trying to convince her to get the help I thought she needed.”

He moved in then, brushing her hair over her shoulder, cupping the side of her neck, gently moving his thumb along her jaw. “I’ve loved you since that first time, Alex.” He shook his head. “No. If I’m honest, long before then. But you were still so young, and I knew you weren’t ready for what I wanted with you. Then I broke up with Emily, and as soon as I saw you again, I knew I had to have you, that I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Her head was spinning. He loved her. He had always loved her. “What about blackmailing me into your bed?”

“You don’t trust easily, Alex, and I’d already hurt you. I didn’t know how else to get you to give me another chance, to spend time with me, to let me love you like you deserved.”

“You were never going to sell this place?”

He shook his head and pulled out his cell phone, opened his text messages, and showed her a reply from David Cannon.

Thanks for the referral. My car looks amazing.

“You sent Mr. Cannon to us?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I referred him; the decision was his. I barely know the man, so this wasn’t a favor to me. We aren’t business associates. I just met him through a friend.”

“He’s not the first, is he?”

He shook his head. “I believe in you, in this place.”

She sucked in a breath, the lump clogging her throat suddenly escaping on a giant sob. All the emotion she’d held back over the last few days—the last few years—came rushing forward. She had no hope of holding it back. She shook her head. “No Emily?”

“No Emily.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip.

“And you…you love me?”

“Yes, I love you. So fucking much,” he choked.

Her body started to tremble so hard her legs felt weak. He pulled her into his arms, hands going to her butt. He lifted her off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, arms circling his neck. Hot tears streamed down her face and soaked into his shirt.

He kissed the top of her head. “I know I went about this all the wrong way, and I’ve acted like a jealous, overbearing asshole, but I promise you this—it stops now, baby. You didn’t deserve any of it. I let my past get in the way of our future. I won’t let that happen again.”

She tightened her arms around his neck. “I’m not your mom, and I’m not Emily, Deke,” she choked. “I would never hurt you like that. Ever.”

“I know, baby.”

She vaguely felt him move. Heard him kick the door, tell Rusty to open up. Then they were going up the stairs to her apartment, and the next thing she knew, Deacon was lowering her onto her bed.

She’d been so damn blind, had turned Deacon into some kind of power-hungry monster in her head. All to protect herself from the truth, a truth she’d been too afraid to face. She’d acted like a coward, had pushed him away all those months ago instead of taking a risk, afraid to love, to be loved in return.

But she’d known, deep down under all the baggage, the pain she hid behind, she’d known that Deacon would never hurt her, would never do anything to hurt his sisters. She knew this because she knew him.

And because of three magical, wonderful words.

Deacon loved her.

Chapter Twenty-One

Deacon removed her boots, letting them fall to the floor. Crawling up the mattress, he came down on top of her. It felt so good to have her beneath him. He’d been craving this, being able to touch her, feel her warm, smooth skin beneath his fingers. She felt small, almost fragile right then, and he slid his arms around her, holding her to him.

Jesus, he couldn’t believe she was giving him another chance, that she was finally his.

“Alex?” Her body shook, and her eyes were screwed shut, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She was killing him. “Baby…” He tried to brush away her tears but more replaced them instantly. “Sweetheart, please don’t cry… What can I do? How can I make it better?”

“Kiss it b-better,” she sobbed.

Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and he became aware of the heat between her thighs, the way she was flush against his abs, scalding him through her panties. He groaned. “You want me to kiss it better?”

“Y-yes.”

She wiggled beneath him, and he chuckled. “Where do you want your kiss?” He lifted up and dragged her T-shirt higher, revealing her taut belly. Leaning down, he licked and sucked the smooth skin, holding her immobile when she wiggled harder. Trailing hot kisses across her ribs, he moved the shirt higher. “What about here?”

She moaned softly when he wrapped his lips around a peaked nipple and gently sucked. She smelled of arousal and the vanilla soap she used, and something more, something purely Alex. His cock throbbed against his zipper, starving for more, desperate to get inside her. He kissed and sucked, then moved to the other side, to that sexy purple bar piercing her perfect little nipple, tonguing it gently, making her writhe and gasp.