Page 44 of At First Flight
Dean watches on, breath held in as he waits for the kid’s response. Up until today, the kids had been glued to his or my side. And specifically, at dinner, the kids notoriously inched their chairs as close to Dean’s as the table would allow.
“Yes, please,” Oliver says as Evelyn nods enthusiastically.
My mom guides the kids to the two seats, nudging my brothers out of the way with her hip in the process.
Once my mom sits, we join her. Dean opts to sit on the opposite side of the table from me, next to Evelyn. Dad takes up the helm of the table, smiling at Hadley as she speaks a mile a minute about a reality show she’s been bingeing. I’m secretly thrilled that she’s filling the silence and taking the attention away from me. As Mom passes a basket of bread to Dean, he winks in my direction before divvying up two pieces for Evelyn and himself.
Hadley seems to have broken the awkwardness in the room because dinner is filled with a whirlwind of conversations. Despite my brother’s trying to interrogate Dean, he holds his own. And when asked what he does for a living, Rowan’s eyes widened in surprise. Dean lists off so many businesses, charities, and grants he’s a part of that he comes off like a walking Renaissance Man. Despite what Rowan thought earlier, I know Dean works hard, spending most of the day in his office and on the phone, but I’m left impressed with all the fields he invests in. Hell, the man knows so much about each area that he sounds more like a CEO than a shareholder.
“Wow,” my dad says, shaking his head faintly. He shoves a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.
Under the table, Hadley kicks me not-so-subtly on the ankle as she leans over her plate toward Dean.
“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.
