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Dean Dixon is no less than 6'3, skin bronzed from working outside, and his dark hair and beard flecked through with silver, especially at his temples. He’s so packed with muscle that it looks like his shirt is straining to control his broad chest and thick arms.
With a wide mouth, thick brows, a large nose, and stormy gray eyes, his face drew me in more than his body, which is saying a lot. Because he definitely has the hottest body I’ve ever seen. When he came forward to shake my hand, I could smell the motor oil from the motorcycle he had been working on when we arrived, but underneath that, he smelled like an evergreen forest—sharp, fresh, and warm. I wanted to bury my nose in his neck so much that I had to take a deep breath to stop myself.
God, the effect this man is having on me is so wildly inappropriate that I don’t know what in the world I’m supposed to do. He makes all of my feminist ideas go flying out the window, and I can see myself barefoot and pregnant in his kitchen, cooking him an extravagant meal after being fucked senseless. He’d come up behind me and rub my shoulders, kissing the side of my neck and telling me exactly what he wanted for dessert….
Christ on a cracker. Get it together, Delia!
I shake my head to disperse all the thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having and force myself back into the present. I don’t want to go into the house because of how much Dean is affecting me, but what choice do I have? This insta-crush I’ve developed on my boyfriend’s dad isn’t going to get me out of having to spend this holiday here. The sooner I get over it, the better.
But when Brody passes by me in the doorway and I’m left with Dean close enough that our shoulders could touch, I’m absolutely positive that I’m not going to get over it. He looks down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—like I’m an oasis and he’s dying of thirst. No one has ever looked at me like this, and I have never wanted to touch another human being so badly.
“Are you two coming?” Brody yells from further into the house. “Stop messing around, Delia. You don’t need to put on this polite princess act for my dad.”
“I am polite,” I blurt out to Dean, flustered and embarrassed by Brody. “I’m not a princess, though. But definitely polite.”
Dean’s smile is slow and luxuriant. “Oh, I don’t know. I think you could be a princess if you really wanted to.”
Oh my God. Why does that make me so hot? I swallow hard, a nervous giggle popping out of my mouth. This stoic man teasing me makes me want more, but before I can tease right back, Brody pops his head around the corner, and I can basically feel Dean shut down again.
I wonder what that is all about.
"Delia, seriously. Come on," Brody says.
I sigh and walk past Dean, but his hand brushes the small of my back and it sends a wave of heat through me. I look up at him, and he gives me a small, private smile. "If you don't mind, I'd like to use your bathroom," I say, needing an excuse to get away from both of them and collect myself.
"Down the hall, first door on the left. There's an attached bath, and there's plenty of hot water if you want a shower."
"Thanks."
"I'll take a shower too. I stink," Brody announces, leering at me. I'm ready to tell him absolutely not because we haven't even done more than kiss. What the hell is he thinking? But before I can say a single thing, Dean takes over.
"No, you stay here and help me bring your stuff in."
My stomach twists, and I don't know if Dean is really doing what I think he is. Is he trying to keep me and Brody apart? I appreciate it, but it's not like Dean can possibly know we're on the verge of breakup anyway. Does my boyfriend's dad really think something might happen between me and him?
Because...yeah. I want it to, but I also know how wrong it really is.
"What do you mean? She's my girlfriend," Brody insists.
"I'm sure she'd prefer a little bit of privacy." Dean’s eyes cut to me. "That and you didn't even ask her if she wanted company."
He's not wrong. "Uh...no. Thank you. A shower alone would be great."
Brody crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Dean, looking petulant and ridiculous. He looks like a child. "Fine. Whatever."
"Thank you," I whisper, and Dean nods. I'm still reeling from the exchange when I close the bathroom door behind me.
Holy shit. What in the world is going on?
After taking the longest shower of my life and washing away all the grime from the road, I dry off and stare at myself in the foggy mirror. "Don't get too excited," I tell my reflection. "He's probably just being protective. Don't read into it, Delia. You're here for Brody and to enjoy a good meal. That's all."
Saying the words out loud doesn't stop my heart from beating double-time.
Once I'm dressed, I walk back into the living room, but Brody and Dean are nowhere to be found. My purse and the bag I packed are sitting on the floor in front of the couch, and I pick it up, looking around. "Hello?"
No answer.
I take the time to look around the house and what I see makes me smile. I had been in such a rush to get away from all the testosterone before that I basically had blinders on, but despite all of Brody's complaining about his childhood home, this place is nice. Charming.
