I bit back a smile at the words about his mother. It was amusing thinking of any woman barking out orders and him scurrying around to obey her. But I was sure if there was any woman who could bark orders at Deacon, Beth Malloy was that woman, and I admired the hell out of her for it. “That should be fine.”
Across the room from us, Willow sat at one of the round tables. She was swathed in a frilly pink boa, and a glittery pink tiara sat on her head. Seated with her were two young men in their late teens or early twenties who wore cuts similar to Deacon’s. The table was set for a tea party. What caused me to do a double take was the fact that the two men also sported boas and tiaras. When they met my gaze, they both appeared to be in the seventh ring of hell.
Deacon chuckled at what must have been my bewildered expression. “They’re prospects for the club, so they have to do whatever we order them to do.”
“And today’s order of business was a tea party?”
With a shrug, Deacon replied, “Willow wanted one.”
Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I eyed him. “But why aren’t you playing with her?”
He shot me a look of absolute disbelief. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because she’s your daughter. Fathers often play with their daughters.”
Deacon shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I wouldn’t even begin to know how to play with her.”
“And you think those poor guys do?”
At that moment, Willow bounded over to us. “Miss Alex!” she squealed before throwing her arms around my waist. Mine and Deacon’s conversation was forgotten with Willow’s enthusiastic greeting.
“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?” I asked as I squeezed her back.
“Good. I’ve been waiting all day to see you. I finished all the work you left me.”
“You did?” I asked with surprise. While some of the worksheets were review activities of what we had been doing, I’d never expected her to finish so fast.
“Uh-huh. I’ll go get them.”
As Willow sprinted away, Deacon shook his head. “You bring out the fucking chatterbox in her. I swear, she doesn’t hardly say two words to me.”
“Do you ever try talking to her?”
His brows drew together as he brought his hand up to scratch his neck. “Not really.”
“Even if she doesn’t talk to you, she’s a very good listener.”
“What the hell would I talk about with her?” he demanded, sweeping his hands to his hips. His usual scowl was back, and he looked at me like I had asked him to solve a difficult equation rather than something as simple as telling him to talk to his daughter.
“Tell her about when you were her age.”
“Those aren’t happy little stories to share, Miss Evans. I wouldn’t want to give her nightmares.”
The intensity of his stare, along with the tormented look in his eyes, caused me to look away. “I’m sure if you just sit down and try, the right words will come to you,” I said softly.
“We’ll see,” he grumbled before stalking away. As I watched his retreating form, I couldn’t help but wonder about all the demons he held within him. Willow interrupted my thoughts by skipping up to me with a handful of papers.
“Are you ready to see our classroom?” she asked.
“I’d love to.”
With a squeal, she grabbed my hand and then dragged me across the room. We reached a long hallway that was filled with doors on both the right and left sides. When we got to the fourth on the right, she flung it open. “What do you think?”
I gazed around the room. There were two old desks in the middle—a larger one for me and a smaller one for Willow. I don’t know how he had managed it, but Deacon had set up a whiteboard on an easel. There was even a multicolored rug on the floor for story time. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “It’s wonderful. Your daddy did a great job setting it up.”
As Willow beamed at my praise, I motioned to her desk. “Now, I think it’s time we got to work.”
Two hours later found Willow finishing up on the last lesson of the day. I’d worked her hard, but she had enjoyed every minute of it. You never would have imagined she had missed any school at all. As I rose out of my chair, I smiled down at her. “Okay, then. School’s over for today.”
Her lips curved down in a pout. “But I’m not finished.”
“We’ll finish tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she reluctantly replied, rising out of her seat. She took my hand, and we started into the hallway. When we reached the last door on the right, mortification filled me at the unmistakable sounds of a couple having sex.
I glanced down at Willow in horror, but she merely smiled. “Uncle Bishop must be exercising again.”
“Exercising?”
Willow nodded. “Deacon said whenever there’s a lot of loud noises in the rooms, it’s people exercising. Uncle Bishop exercises a lot.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing at Deacon’s explanation. I had to hand it to him for coming up with a good explanation. I’m sure with the type of men and women Willow was around, there was a lot of “exercising.”
When we started toward the back door, one of the prospects who had been at Willow’s tea party stepped in front of the door, blocking the exit. “I’m just going to walk Willow home,” I explained.
“It’s my job to do that.”