It was moments like these that Charlie cherished. Deacon handled Nia with a calm tenderness that reminded Charlie all over again why he had started loving him in the first place.
He finished reading the story, his voice low and soothing, then closed the book and set it aside. He blew a kiss at Deacon and stepped out of Nia's room, detoured to his own for a moment then went downstairs.
When he heard Deacon's feet on the stairs he was kneeling on the hearth rug, the fire made up, with the little strip of leather in his hands. He looked up at Deacon and whispered, "I love you."