Caged (Mastered #4)(46)
Author: Lorelei James

“Mmm-hmm. New nickname for you. In fact, Deacon ‘Sex God’ McConnell has a much nicer ring than Deacon ‘Con Man’ McConnell, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re delirious from lack of food.” He kissed her decisively. “Off the table before I’m tempted to eat you for supper.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THEY’D both overslept the next morning, allowing no time for Deacon to fuck Molly in the shower like he’d planned.

There wasn’t any time to stop at the C-Mart for a quick cup of joe, either. But on the way to the lawyer’s office, Deacon did bring up one thing that’d been weighing on him. “Torch Robbins is your family lawyer?”

“If by ‘family’ you mean Grams’s and Uncle Bob’s lawyer . . . then yes.”

He picked up her hand to stop her from fiddling with the crease in her pants. “You’re nervous.”

“I’ve never been to the reading of a will before.”

“It’s pretty boring. It’s the shit that happens afterward you oughta be worried about.” He parked in front of the lawyer’s office and faced her. “Babe, I gotta be honest. I’m not sure this guy”—he pointed to the fancy lettering on the glass window—“has your best interests in mind.”

“I’ve thought about that. But what are my options? I’m leaving tomorrow. Torch Robbins is the only game in town.”

He curled his hand around her neck and turned her face toward him. “My cousin Tag is a lawyer. Lemme ask him if he’s got colleagues in Omaha or Lincoln. We’ll go from there.”

Her brown eyes softened. “That’d be a huge relief to me. And make sure your cousin knows I’ll pay him for his time.”

“No worries. Tag owes me. Just don’t sign anything until I talk to him, okay?”

“I won’t. You’re too good to be true. You know that, right?”

“Wrong. I’m a bad bet.” He stroked the edge of her jaw. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“So noted. But I still think you’re sweet. Showing up here, knowing what I need before I do—”

Deacon brushed his mouth over hers to stop the stream of praise he felt he hadn’t earned. “I’ll wait out here.”

He called Tag’s home phone and left a message. Pussy move, not calling Tag’s office at JFW or his cell phone, but Deacon wanted legal advice, not family guilt.

It’d gotten stuffy inside the car, so he’d found a shady spot in front of a barbershop. While he waited, he checked sports scores and mined through MMA sites for news on his phone.

Less than an hour later, Molly exited the lawyer’s office.

“How’d it go?”

Molly shot a look over her shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it here. I need some damn caffeine.”

He drove to the C-Mart.

After she’d taken a few sips from her jumbo cup of coffee, she blurted out, “That was bizarre. Everyone acted so civilized until Torch read the will. Then Jennifer and Brandi started yelling at me and Uncle Bob asked if the will could be contested.”

“What the fuck happened?”

“Grams bequeathed some of her belongings to the church. We’re meeting Reverend Somers at the house in an hour—evidently she already had that stuff sorted. Once the place is empty, the house and the land will be put up for sale. The money is to be split equally between Uncle Bob and me. Anything left over in the house will be auctioned off. That’s Brandi and Jennifer’s inheritance.”

While that seemed fair, since Molly was the sole heir of her grandmother’s other child, Deacon knew her cousins wouldn’t see it that way. “Tag left me a message. He’s tracking down an estate lawyer. He’ll follow up with you soon.”

“Did he say something else? Because you seem distracted.”

No surprise she’d picked up on that. “Just wondering how long it’ll take to empty the house. I have to be back in the training room by the day after tomorrow.”

“Deacon, if you have to go, I’ll understand. Everything you’ve done for me has been above and beyond.”

“I’m not leaving you to deal with angry family members. Let’s help them get the stuff in the house sorted. But, babe, you’re only doin’ that as a courtesy since they own everything inside now. There shouldn’t be any reason we can’t leave tomorrow morning.”

“You’re right. I’m just used to doing everything.”

“Time to let that go.”

“Time to let a lot of things go,” she said softly.