With This Fling (Summersweet Island 5)

Son of a bitch.

Okay, so when Birdie caught me off guard earlier, I may have also mentioned what his raspy timbre did to me along with his dreamy ass. I am never answering my phone again before I’ve had coffee.

“Oh shit!” Bodhi laughs. “I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together, since I’m the only one who knew he was coming into town. Uncle Dean does have some junk in his trunk.”

“Well, now I’m really glad my plans changed so I wouldn’t miss the wedding.”

I open my eyes just in time to see that damn smirk popping out from under Dean’s facial hair again as his eyes sparkle at me in amusement. He clearly got the memo that tonight was a casual-dress dinner, and he took it to the extreme. Wearing another pair of dark jeans that hug his thick thighs and hang low on his hips, he paired them with a black belt, a fitted black T-shirt tucked into the jeans with all that ink decorating his muscular arms on full display, black motorcycle boots, and a black beanie on his head. He looks like a hot, badass, middle-aged hipster, and I want to sit on his face.

This is not good. This is not good at all.

My vagina is already dying a slow, menopausal death. Uncle Dean looks like he’d just finish her right off in thirty minutes or less. Like late-night pizza delivery… but without the heartburn.

“What’s up with the hat?” I ask him, coming up with anything I can think of to say to him, hoping my voice covers up Birdie annoyingly explaining to a confused Palmer what she and Bodhi were shouting about.

“I was having a bad hair day. Couldn’t get it to lay down right.” He shrugs, making me laugh out loud at his completely unexpected response.

He just looks like the type of guy who would reply, “What the fuck is wrong with my hat? Fight me,” when asked a question like that.

When I realize his smile has slipped away and he’s just staring at me, my laughter quickly cuts off. “What?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and the only thing that can be heard is Shepherd now squealing with Birdie after she told him what’s going on as well.

As he slides his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, I stop breathing and my body completely freezes when Dean leans his face closer to mine and lowers his voice.

“Your laugh is like a goddamn ray of sunshine,” he mutters roughly, his eyes flickering down to my mouth.

Well then.

My heart is still trying to beat its way out of my chest, when he suddenly pulls back and takes a bottle of beer someone hands him, as if he didn’t just say something that turned my legs to jelly.

“I thought you were a tourist,” I finally say after clearing my throat when I remember how to speak again. My family is still all busy discussing my life without me a few feet away. “It doesn’t really seem fair that you obviously knew who I was.”

“Is my ass even greater now that you know I’m not a tourist?”

I can feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment, and I silently curse Birdie in my head. “Oh, you’re definitely a great-big ass.” I smile sweetly, making him chuckle, the sound entirely too pleasing to my ears.

He looks so gruff, and serious, and like he doesn’t laugh very often. Which I know for a fact he doesn’t, going by the stories I’ve been told over the years. Why the hell do I like it that I can make him laugh?

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were when I asked last night?” I question, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice, even though I am seriously annoyed.

If I knew he was Palmer’s uncle, I wouldn’t have….

Okay, fine. My underwear would have still melted off my body after the things he said to me, but I would have been more polite to him.

Probably.

Maybe.

“Technically, you asked if we’d met before. And we hadn’t.” He shrugs. “And it was a hell of a lot more fun watching you get flustered, thinking I was just some nobody.”

“I didn’t get flustered.” I scoff. “There was no flustering going on. I don’t fluster!”

Jesus, shut up, Laura!

“Oh my God, Uncle Dean. I feel awful!” Birdie suddenly says, finally getting the man to take his damn humor-filled eyes off me to look at her. “I don’t have a hotel reservation for you. The place is fully booked, and so are all the rentals at Sandbar Cottages. I won’t even be able to get you a golf cart rental until probably tomorrow evening.”

That’s right. Stay annoyed with him. He’s giving your daughter more anxiety she doesn’t need by showing up to this wedding unexpectedly, when everyone thought he’d be out of town.