Chapter 8
“Before you ask, I cancelled this morning’s workout with my clients,” Deacon said when Max came into the kitchen Sunday morning. “You look like you’ll live to face another day without it.”
“Because of you,” Max replied. “I didn’t expect to get any sleep, to say the least of sleeping through the night. Thank you.”
Jack looked up from reading the entertainment section of the newspaper. “What did he do to help?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“Not what you’re implying,” Max retorted as he poured a cup of coffee. He returned his attention to Deacon, asking, “Did you sleep?”
“Like a log.” He amended that, saying, “Except for a couple of bad dreams. Thankfully, they passed quickly.”
Max grimaced. “Been there, done that. Too much, recently.”
Deacon shook his head. “We’re not go
