Chapter 47: Feels like more

EMMA

Before today, I'd had a vague idea of where Deacon lived-somewhere in town, I knew, and for some reason, I'd pictured him in one of those soulless townhouses with beige walls, beige carpet, stainless steel appliances and nondescript furniture. Not that I imagined Deacon in those terms at all-quite the opposite-but he was so much a part of the hospital that it seemed to be his natural landscape. Somehow, I'd thought of his home just as the place where he slept between shifts.

But I was wrong, because the house we pulled into was the farthest thing from ordinary. It was small, yes, but in a cozy way. The outside was turquoise, which was utterly unexpected and yet absolutely perfect. I spotted a porch tucked into the front of the house before Deacon eased the car into the garage next to his truck.

I was curious about the inside, but I didn't get to see much of it right away, since Deacon dragged me out of the car through the door that led from the garage into the house and the