Page 25 of At First Flight (Coral Bell Cove #1)
“Are you single?” she asks, and both Mom and I admonish her immediately. “What? It’s a simple question when you’re getting to know someone. So, are you?”
“Yes, I’m single, though I did meet this woman a couple of weeks ago that I haven’t stopped thinking about,” he replies, those dark eyes of his twinkling from the light of the chandelier hanging over the table.
I immediately tuck my chin to my chest, letting my hair drape around my face like a shield.
“Oh, my.” Hadley leans back in her chair and feverishly fans her face. “Did you contact her?”
“No, I never got her information, but I’m a big believer in Fate. So hopefully, things will work out for me in the end. I know without an ounce of doubt that I’m going to marry that girl one day.”
I choke on the piece of bread I was chewing and make a quick excuse to leave the table and grab a glass of water from the kitchen. In my hurry, I don’t miss Dean’s deep chuckle at my exit.
By the time Mom serves us her homemade pecan pie, my family has thoroughly ensconced Dean in conversation, learning more about him and his family in an hour than I have over the past week. Even Rowan has started coming around to my boss.
Me? I’m left embarrassed and red-faced after my siblings took the opportunity to share stories of me growing up. Payback will be hell whenever any of them brings someone home.
We stay for another hour. Dean refrains from drinking a second beer when my dad offers and lets me indulge in a glass of wine with my mom. But as the sun dips below the trees, I know we’re dangerously close to the kids’ bedtime.
We bid a quick goodbye to my family as Evelyn nearly falls asleep in Dean’s arms as he carries her out to the car. “I had fun tonight,” he murmurs as he strains to latch Evelyn in her car seat. “Your family is great.”
From across the vehicle where I’m helping Oliver get latched in, I send Dean a fiery glare.
“I don’t think I’ll be subjecting myself to that humiliation again anytime soon.”
“Aw, it’s just because they love you.” Despite the sweetness in his words, I notice his timbre change as if he’s suddenly recalling the passing of his sister.
“I’m sorry. You’re right,” I say, trying to ease the tension I created.
Like a game of ping-pong, Dean’s mood switches back to being carefree. “Good, because your mom wants us to come back next week for family night.”
I do little to mask my groan as I shut the door and make my way around the other side to my own seat, but of course, Dean beats me to it and grabs the door handle.
“Hey.” His dark, steady gaze locks onto mine, rendering me useless. At moments like this, when everything slips away, I can see myself giving in to the attraction between Dean and me. It grows stronger every day, and what little bit of strength I have remaining seems to be fraying.
Licking my lips, I can barely utter my own, “Hey,” and not have my voice scratch at the effort.
Dean reaches out and tucks my hair farthest from him behind my ear. Even as his arm reaches across my face, I can smell whatever cologne he wears. I’m a sucker for it. I wish I knew the brand so when I leave this job, I can spray my pillow and pretend it’s him.
“Thank you for sharing them with me. I…just…yeah. Thank you.”
Dean doesn’t give me a chance to form a reply, not even a breath to gather the words that tangle somewhere between my chest and throat.
Instead, he’s already opening the door, his hand firm and steady at the small of my back as he guides me inside like it’s second nature to take care of me. Like touching me is a right he doesn’t even have to think twice about. And I don’t stop him.
I slide into the seat, the soft leather warm against my legs, and before I can reach for the buckle, he leans in close.
Too close. His broad frame fills the doorway, stealing the air between us.
One arm braces on the roof of the car, the other dips across my body, fingers brushing the hem of my shirt as he reaches for the seat belt.
His scent—all clean soap, cedar, and something darker and headier—wraps around me like a secret I want to keep.
He fastens the belt with an audible click, his knuckles grazing my ribs, the heat of his skin seeping through cotton and reason. My breath hitches. Not enough to be obvious, but just enough for me to know this isn’t just him being polite.
It’s him noticing me. All of me.
And dammit, I notice him, too.
His face is inches from mine now, his mouth just a tilt away.
Those piercing eyes flick to mine, and for a second, just a beat, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.
Like he could kiss me right here in this quiet pocket of space between hesitation and temptation, and I wouldn’t stop him.
I’m supposed to be professional. Steady.
A woman in control. But every time he touches me, every time he looks at me like that, that carefully built wall of resolve starts to wobble, brick by shaky brick.
Dean doesn’t say a word as he slowly pulls back, his hand lingering for a second longer than necessary on the curve of my shoulder before he closes the door with a soft click. And I’m left there, heart thundering, pulse a slow and steady ache in places I swore I’d locked down.
In a moment, he’s behind the wheel, flashing that smirk of his that I was beginning to grow extremely fond of as he starts the SUV. The grin was dangerous, but when he unleashes a full smile, I squirm in my seat as I realize how full-on hazardous the man is to my health.
Everything about Dean shouts at me to throw caution to the wind and give in to temptation.
I’m just not sure if I’m willing to take another risk.