CHAPTER ONE
kelsey
I could seriously kick Deke Hart in between the legs right now. I’m doing him a favor, like a massive favor. I could be home, sitting around my pool, reading the latest gossip magazine, and drinking my favorite energy drink, the guava and kiwi concoction. It would be the perfect combination. Great, now I’m craving that whole scenario. Instead, I’m standing by myself because Deke, the gem he is, left me to go mingle with his parents. This weekend is going to be spectacular; I can feel it deep in my bones. Insert heavy sarcasm here.
My eyes wander around the Hart’s backyard. I’ll give Deke one thing: he did introduce me to his family, all of them, his siblings as well as their significant others and children; and there sure is a passel of them. Now I’m praying that when or if someone comes up to me, I’ll remember their names. That’s also probably why I’m not mingling like I usually would. I’m a pretty outgoing person, an extroverted introvert, so to speak. After two days away from home, keeping up the pleasantries, I’m glad that on Monday, I’ll have the day off to rest and enjoy a semblance of solitude.
I take a sip of the crisp white wine, almost choking on it when I feel Deke’s hand slide along my lower back. That’s the problem with this whole situation. This man is a grade-A asshole, yet when he glances my way, gives me a whisper of a touch, or smiles, my legs clench. It’s the most annoying thing in the world, one where I’m constantly in the need to change my panties while also trying to not let Deke become aware of the affect he has on me.
“Enjoying your time?” There’s arrogance to his tone, and it has me rethinking everything I’ve come to know about the man who towers over me, with his dark features in the way of hair and eyes, roguish good looks with a hint of gruffness.
“You could say that.” If there were no one around, his family not looking on, practically dissecting us with their eyes, I’d tell Deke what I really would like to. For instance, on our way here, which was only a few hours from Gulf Shores, we should have talked about anything and everything, especially our relationship. Instead, Captain Dickhead shut me down every single time, saying he’d handle it. So much for that. His surly attitude when he made the introductions showed me a completely different side to him, one that has me questioning how I could ever think the man beside me could possibly be the charming man he came off to be when I first met him.
“Come on, let’s dance, then we’ll get some food, and maybe by then we can sneak out of here.” It’s not a suggestion, not with the way Deke is taking the glass of wine out of my hand when all I really want is to chug it like a frat boy would a beer funnel.