Chasing Castles (Finding Focus #2) by Jiffy Kate Read Free Book Online Page B

night?” he asks.
    “Yeah, pretty much. This is my second bottle. Why?”
    “I wish you would’ve told me; I’d have done a better job keeping an eye on you.”
    My temper starts to flare. “I don’t need you to keep an eye on me. You’re not my daddy or my brother.”
    Before he can respond, Lacy starts cackling. “How cute! She has a crush on you, Deacon. Be gentle when you break her heart, okay?”
    I’m mortified, but Deacon just looks confused, as if he’s just now realizing her words could be true.
    “Shut up,” he snaps. It’s not the first harsh word I’ve ever heard him speak, but it’s a first toward Lacy. I can tell she’s shocked, too. Her eyes widen and her head tilts as she tries to register what he just said. “Gosh, Deacon. I was just kidding.”
    Normally, at those words and the butt-hurt look on her face, Deacon would soften and apologize, but his eyes never leave my face as he dismisses her with his nonresponse. A second later, she stomps off in the direction of the bonfire, looking for someone else to latch onto, I’m sure.
    He takes a step toward me and twists the bottle open without taking his eyes off me. “I know I’m not your daddy . . . or your brother.”
    His words and the tone he’s using make my stomach flip. I swallow hard, searching for something to say, willing myself to be the strong, confident girl I know is inside me somewhere.
    “Is this what you wanted?” he asks.
    I can hear the double meaning in his words as he stands less than a foot away with the open bottle of Boone’s between us.
    I nod, watching his lips as he wets them with his tongue.
    My eyes go from those lips to his eyes and then back to his lips. I want to kiss them, and I want them to kiss me back. I want them to want me as much as I want them.
    A slight frown forms between Deacon’s eyes as we stand there letting the electricity between us speak for itself.
    “Can we go somewhere?” I ask quietly, mustering all of the courage I can find for those four words.
    Deacon doesn’t answer. He merely sets the bottle down on the ground by his feet and takes my hand, leading me away from the dwindling crowd.
    Away from the glow of the fire.
    Away from the house.
    We walk in silence into the dark shadows down the side of the house until we reach his truck. He opens the passenger side door and lifts me by my waist, placing me in the seat.
    I want to protest. I know he’s been drinking. I know he shouldn’t drive. But I want this, whatever it is. If it means being alone with Deacon, I want it.
    A moment later, he climbs in behind the wheel and sits there, his hand on the keys, staring at me. As if something on my face gives him the answer he’s looking for, he nods his head once and turns the key over. The engine purrs to life, and I pray to God no one notices.
    “Are you sure you should be driving?” I ask, not able to keep my mouth shut.
    “I’m fine. We’re just driving down the lane,” he says, motioning in front of us. It’s not far, close enough to walk, so I wonder why we’re driving, but I don’t ask. I listen to the quiet . . . to the crunch of the gravel under the tires and the soft rumble of the engine. I glance back to see if any new lights are on in the house or if anyone is following us. When all seems clear, I sigh in relief.
    Deacon turns the truck slowly down the lane and drives until we’re completely out of sight from the house before putting the truck in park and turning off the headlights. No one else uses this road. It’s part of the Landry property and is only used to get to the back sugarcane fields, which aren’t even being used right now. So, we’re alone.
    “Is this what you wanted?” he asks for the second time.
    I nod, and I can’t help the smile that forces its way onto my face, because this is exactly what I wanted. The lingering wine in my body makes my cheeks feel warm, and the nerves I’d normally be feeling are a mere hum, just enough to let me know I’m