Convicted Read online

  "Are you sure?" he'd asked her seriously, twisting around on his motorcycle so he could look at her. The harsh fluorescent light from the store etched his handsome face in shades of black and white. The helmet he now held in his hands had mussed his dark hair.

  She'd nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Deacon took her hand in his, brought it to his lips, kissed it. The gesture had sent a white hot bolt of fire down to her belly.

  "I can drop you off at the door, give you a peck on the cheek--"

  "Stop." She leaned forward swiftly and kissed him hard on the mouth. His tongue dipped between her lips gently, and she sat back on the motorcycle's narrow seat. "Go."

  She had not made the decision to make love with him lightly. Nor, she'd thought at the time, had he. Every date had led them to greater intimacy. Their chaste goodnight kisses on her porch had led to passionate embraces on his sofa, and it was only a matter of time before she wouldn't be able to keep from giving in to what her body demanded every time he held her in his arms.

  He'd gone inside the mini-mart, helmet in hand, to buy what she didn't normally keep in her purse--condoms. He'd come out in handcuffs. The next time she'd seen him had been in court.

  Lisa stopped abruptly, her hand on the door to her office. She couldn't go back to work. Not today. Just remembering that last kiss had made her heart start pounding. Her palms felt slick, and a small coil of fire had lit itself in her abdomen again. She shook her head, knowing it was useless to force herself back in front of the computer.

  "I'm going to run this copy to the printer and stop at the newspaper," she called into the main office. Nobody would stop her. Running the copy was a chore she did regularly.

  Once behind the wheel of her car, she stopped the trembling of her hands by gripping the steering wheel. She caught sight of her eyes in the rearview mirror, and didn't like their wild look. She took a moment to breath deeply, then smoothed her hair and moistened her lips with the stick of balm in her purse. Another few deep breaths and she was fine.

  Fine except that no matter how she tried, she couldn't forget about Deacon Campbell's kisses.

  * * * *

  What stupid, masochistic inclination had prompted him to take Doug Shadd's offer to work at The Garden Shadd? Deacon asked himself the question one more time as he parked the Road King in an employee spot and lifted off his helmet. He knew Lisa's family owned the nursery. He'd been pretty sure he'd never be hired there because of his past with her. That was why he hadn't bothered applying there, even though he had the credentials. When Doug Shadd called him last night after dinner and offered him a job, Deacon had been too surprised to say anything but yes.

  Deacon needed a job. He wanted to work with the ground, growing things and helping people realize their dreams of the perfect yard or garden. Working at The Garden Shadd would let him do that. It was the largest nursery and garden shop in the area. Why should he turn down an offer of work, just because the owner's daughter had sent him to jail for a crime he hadn't committed?

  Deacon secured his saddlebags, tightened his belt, and hooked his fingers through the helmet. He might see Lisa today or he might not. He'd better prepare himself. If he had one consolation, it was that his presence at the nursery would be as uncomfortable for her as it would be for him. Like some weird sort of revenge.

  Except that now, with one work boot poised on the edge of the concrete steps leading to the greenhouse, Deacon knew he didn't want to get back at her. He just wanted to see her. He wanted to ask her why she hadn't had enough faith in him to see beneath the helmet on the man robbing The Circle K. Why she hadn't returned his letters. Why she'd never, not once, visited him.

  "You must be Deacon," said the short plump woman potting marigolds at the long trestle table just inside the greenhouse door. She held out her hand, streaked orange and lined with dirt. He took it. "I'm Jamie. Doug told me to look for you today."

  He looked over the pots of flowers. "Do you want me to start here?"

  Jamie laughed, her double chin jiggling. "This is stuff anyone can do. No, you're going to be in the design department today. They're having the monthly meeting to go over the client list and stuff."

  He'd expected to be put to work doing the most menial jobs, and now they were waiting for him to join their meeting? He looked down at his faded and torn jeans and flannel shirt, the scuffed work boots. "I should've dressed up."

  Jamie laughed again. "You'd have been the only one. It's through that door there, down the hall and make your first left. They've taken over the lunch room today."

  "Thanks." Deacon already liked Jamie, whose plump cheeks seemed made for smiling.

  He followed her directions past a row of office doors. One opened just as he passed, and he nearly collided with the woman coming out.

  "You!" Allegra's handful of papers fluttered to the ground.

  "Hello, Allegra," Deacon said in resignation. He'd anticipated running into Lisa here. It hadn't occurred to him that Allegra might also have started working at the family business.

  Her pretty mouth curled in a sneer. "You're heading the wrong way. The safe is in the main office. But you probably know that already, don't you?"

  It took all his willpower to not react, but it was worth it to see how his lack of reaction antagonized her. Allegra jerked her head toward the papers on the floor. "Pick those up."

  Deacon did not like being told what to do. He stepped over the papers and continued down the hall. Behind him, he heard Allegra mumbling. He expected his quick glance back to show her fumbling with the papers and sending him black looks. What he saw instead made him pause.

  Lisa's sister knelt in front of the scattered pile, fists clenched. She rocked slowly as she muttered, then touched one of the papers with one finger. She jerked back as if burned. Still muttering, she touched another paper, then another, faster and faster until finally she'd touched every paper in quick succession.

  He must have made some soft sound of surprise at her actions because her head flew up. Her eyes, bright but unfocused, cleared rapidly and turned to a glare so fierce it made him physically take a step back. Allegra scooped the papers into her arms, crumpling them, and went back into her office. She slammed the door.

  Deacon had no time to wonder what all that had been about. The scene left him uneasy, though, and as he walked toward the lunchroom door, he recalled what Lisa used to say about her sister.

  "A little nuts," he said under his breath. "Yeah, that's a good description."

  He stopped just outside the lunchroom door to brace himself for what awaited him.

  "...late," Deacon heard a man say.

  "What do you expect?" Said another, and though he didn't finish the statement, Deacon knew what he meant. What do you expect...from a criminal?

  For a moment, Deacon seriously considered just turning around and walking away. He'd find work someplace else. He didn't have to work here, where at any moment he could come face to face with Lisa. Where every day he'd be working with people who'd already written him off before they even bothered to give him a chance.

  Bertha Campbell hadn't raised any quitters. Deacon might be considered the black sheep of the family because of his supposed wild ways and the trouble he'd gotten into, but he wasn't a quitter. Doug Shadd had offered him this job for a reason, and Deacon was going to make certain he proved he was worth hiring.

  He stepped through the door, clearing his throat. He already knew Doug, but the man sitting next to him at the long lunch table looked enough like him Deacon guessed it must be a son. He knew Lisa had three brothers and two sisters, and he knew only two of the brothers worked at The Garden Shadd. One of them was still in high school, which left only one choice. If only he could remember the guy's name...

  "Good morning, Doug...Kevin," Deacon said, making a guess. The faint look of surprise on Kevin's face proved he'd guessed right. Deacon held out his hand and both men stood to shake it.

  "Have a seat," Doug offered. "We're just about to get