Chapter Twelve

Deacon

I hadn't really given tonight's dinner much thought after Jenna brought it up, but now, watching her run around like a mad woman trying to pick out an outfit was almost too much to bare. She wasn't just worried about what her mother thought, but now her sister who was in town visiting.

The McAllisters were like vultures and now they would all be in the same place at once. It felt almost dangerous just thinking about it.

"What do you think?" Jenna questioned, coming up behind me in our room. She spun and stared at herself in the floor-length mirror in her bedroom, then looked back at me sitting on the bed, waiting for her. I watched her bite down on the bottom of her lip anxiously. Then she narrowed her eyes. "I just don't know—" It was like she was at war with herself over what to wear. This was ridiculous. Who gave a shit what her family thought?

I never let my eyes leave her as I sighed in response. "Anything I say you're not going to listen to anyway." They had too much sway over Jenna's thoughts, too much power over her confidence. I knew it was no use. Plus, when Jenna got like this, her claws came out quite easily and I really didn't want to argue with her over a silly dinner party.

She looked at me once more and smiled appreciatively. I was wearing slacks and a white man-tailored shirt I left unbuttoned at the neck. But one look back at the mirror and she was suddenly shaking her head, unzipping the dress she had on and stepping out of it. My eyes caught sight of her semi-naked ass in the sexy thong she was wearing and I swallowed hard, knowing now certainly wasn't the time for those thoughts.

She sighed very audibly and walked back into the closet, her hips sashaying with each step. At this rate, I was going to need a cold shower before we even left the house.

"I always listen to you," she said simply.

I tried to ignore the apparent strain in my pants right now and focus on her words.

"Then come out and let's just go. Whatever you put on next is the one, okay?" I shouted to be heard in the closet.

She came to sit next to me on the bed, dropping her head in her hands.

I pulled her close to me, breathing in the scent of the perfume she put on as our bodies touched, her breasts in that strapless bra she was wearing pushing up against my chest. "What's going on here?"

"I can't do this, Deke," she said in between splayed fingers. "I thought I could, but I don't think I can."

Without even saying the words, I knew she meant she didn't think she could be in the same room with her whole family and me and not have a breakdown. But I knew differently. She was the strongest woman I knew. She could handle just about anything life threw at her, but that wasn't what she needed to hear. Instead, I said, "Then we won't go."

She pulled back almost immediately, her eyes darting between mine. "What are you nuts?"

I chuckled and kissed the top of her nose that was now scrunched up. "Then please just go and get dressed."

Jenna's eyes went wide. "Fine," she finally said as if it was even up for debate, stood and turned on her heel.

A few seconds later, she emerged from her closet in a little black dress with some shiny shit down the sides. "What do you think about this one?"

I went to open my mouth, but she answered her own question instead. "This is it," she said, looking down at herself. "This is the winner." She took a few steps backward to where I was standing for me to zip her up. She lifted her hair, looked back at me, and licked her lips. "Do you mind?"

I groaned at her bare back and whispered in her ear, "Not one bit." I went slow and took my time covering her up. I felt her body quiver at the feeling of my fingers brushing over her bare skin.

She arched her back and pushed her ass against my groin. I groaned in response and kissed the back of her neck before spinning her around. "I'm done, princess."

"Nowhere near," she mumbled and I knew exactly what she meant.

I wasn't going to make it easy on her, though. "Got something on your mind?" I grinned.

She turned around as she shook her head profusely. "No, we can't. We'll be late."

I smiled. "If you insist."

Jenna closed her eyes before opening them again and changing the topic. "The first sign of shit hitting the fan and we're out of there," she insisted and eyed me seriously.

I leaned in and breathed in her scent. "Deal." Our mouths were mere inches from each other and I couldn't help myself, so I brushed my lips over hers and she claimed them almost immediately, kissing me right back.

She moaned, easing into my touch. "Maybe we have a few minutes to spare."

Biting back a laugh, I shook my head and stepped back. "Nope. Let's go." It wasn't easy and I hated myself for saying it, but I wasn't about to rock the boat by showing up late, not when seconds ago Jenna made the same decision.

On our way to her parents' house, we did an admirable job of pretending we weren't going to see her family and talked about everything but them. However, once we pulled up in front of their house, it wasn't so easy to ignore the inevitable. It was time to face the music and, judging by the look on Jenna's face, it seemed like the only thing she was going to be facing was the inside of a toilet.

I walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for her. I watched as she gracefully slid out, her legs looking even better in the tall heels she was wearing. Honestly, the heels looked more like skinny tree branches, and the fact that she could even walk in them was a wonder, but still, she looked sexy as hell.

Jenna wiped her hands down the sides of her dress, and although she tried to act calm, I knew she was anything but, so I took her hands in mine and looked her in the eyes. "It's going to be fine. It's just a dinner party. How bad can it be?"

She kicked her heel against the ground. "I guess you're right."

Just as I was about to suggest we go in, the front door swung open and her loud, nasally sister stepped out, all but shouting, "Are you two kids going to come in already?"

I observed the rise and fall of Jenna's chest as she took a deep breath before responding, "Oh, Fran, it's been way too long!" She broke away from me and walked elegantly, yet quickly, to greet her sister with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

There went Jenna, playing her part.

In no particular rush to join them, I walked at a steady pace.

"You remember Deke, don't you?" She hooked her arm in mine and just stared at her sister, waiting for her response.

When Francesca politely nodded and said, "Come in, come in," Jenna eyed me suspiciously and we walked in together.

An older lady on staff at the house immediately approached us and took Jenna's purse from her. She was clearly new because her hands were shaking and she looked nervous. I wasn't sure if she was a drinker, but if she wasn't, I suspected she would be after spending any significant amount of time in this house.

"Thank you," Jenna graciously said.

"Excuse me, but you need to let my parents know that Jenna and Deacon have arrived," Francesca pointed out to the help, attempting to over enunciate every word. Then she turned to us again. "This is quite the event, isn't it? I heard you helped plan it, Jenna-Jam," she said, using the awful nickname she came up with for her sister. I never did understand it, but then again, I never really understood Francesca.

"I did," Jenna answered.

Francesca's eyes were dancing with mischief and I didn't like it one bit. What did she have up her sleeve? "Well, we mustn't wait. Let's go outside, shall we?" She spun on her heel, expecting us to follow.

When her back was to us, I looked at Jenna and raised an eyebrow, wondering what the hell was going on here.

She merely shrugged.

As we walked among Miami's old money, I looked around and noticed everyone had a glass in their hand, deeply engrossed in conversation. Shit, this night was going to be awful.

Jenna and I were still arm-in-arm as we followed behind Francesca who was leading us to their mother. I felt like I was walking the plank or something.

"Well, I'm going to get a drink," Francesca said, all smiles. "You two want anything? A beer, Deke?"

I narrowed my eyes. "No, thank you."

She nodded and left. One down.

"Jenna," her mother greeted as she walked up to us. "Deacon. How lovely to see you again, and in one piece," she said, each word dripping in disdain. I knew at this point anything that came out of that woman's mouth was a load of horse manure and took it all with a grain of salt.

We shared a smile and I nodded my acknowledgment. "It's nice to see you again, Ms. McAllister."

She murmured her acknowledgment, but shifted her gaze from me to Jenna again. "You look nice."

"Thank you. Is Dad around here?"

"Somewhere," she gestured widely. "I'm sure he's just talking with one of his friends from work. I'll go find him." Two down. Would it be possible to avoid her for the rest of the evening, I wondered.

Once she was out of sight, I blew out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Damn," I whispered, "is it possible that she hates me even more than before?"

Jenna tried to stifle a laugh. She leaned up and gave me a peck on the cheek. "I don't hate you."

"Thanks."

Stepping away from me, she put a hand on her hip and surveyed the crowd. "I could use a drink. Where is the waiter?"

As if by magic, he materialized next to us holding a tray filled with champagne glasses. I took one for Jenna, then one for myself.

"Thank you," she said with a smile.

I went to take a sip and the bubbles immediately tickled my nose. "I forgot how much I hate champagne."

She took a sip of her own and giggled. "There's a cold beer in my fridge at home with your name on it."

I leaned down and grazed my lips over her ear, causing her to quiver, and whispered, "I'd much rather know you have a can of whipped cream in your fridge."

Before I could kiss her like I wanted to, the sound of someone clearing their throat nearby had Jenna jumping back as if caught necking by her parents. Naturally, Jenna's mother was standing there, Francesca next to her wearing her usual evil grin. Luckily for us, her father was still nowhere in sight.

"I couldn't find your father," her mother admitted. "But," she said and peered behind us, encouraging someone to come forward, "there is someone here you might like to see, Jenna."

The man was shorter than me by a few inches, sandy brown hair with some grey on the sides, a short boxed beard, and brown eyes. He was definitely a couple years older than me.

The only thing I couldn't figure out was who he was. By the look on Jenna's face, he was definitely someone she knew and didn't want to see. She cleared her throat. Why was she nervous?

Her mother spoke again, barely able to contain her excitement as she smiled the whole time. "You remember Michael, don't you, dear?"