Chapter 46
Josephine
Aside from the usual breakfast spread, it’s anything but a typical Sunday at the Crusade Mansion.
The house is buzzing with caterers and waitstaff. There are people unloading and staging décor down on the beach, too.
I’ve spent most of the day holed up in my room, getting ahead on my reading for class since it’s going to be a busy week.
I FaceTimed Hunter for a bit, and we chatted while we got ready.
We agreed it didn’t make sense for her to come over any earlier.
The dock is full of smaller boats called tenders, each one manned with crew and security personnel.
I’m not totally confident about my outfit for tonight, seeing as how I’ve never attended a yacht party, but Hunter swears it’s perfect.
I’ve paired bright red hot pants with an oversized white oxford.
The gauzy linen fabric drapes beautifully and leaves little to the imagination.
I completed the look with the perfect shade of Crusaders red lipstick.
Decker told us to be ready to head out by five, so I make my way downstairs a few minutes prior.
When I walk into the kitchen, the guys are all standing around, sipping drinks.
Conversation ceases as each of them assesses me.
Kendrick takes one look at me and stalks toward the back door. Whatever.
Locke can’t get to me fast enough.
“Hot Girl,” he groans reverently. “How the hell do you look even better than last night?” He takes my hand and leads me farther into the kitchen, then lifts his arm to encourage me to twirl.
I spin out of his arms and laugh, only to be caught around the waist by Kylian.
“Hi,” he murmurs, lowering his forehead to mine.
Tension I didn’t even know existed evaporates from my body, and I’m instantly at ease.
Smiling, he brings his mouth to my ear. “You look good enough to eat.”
My pussy flutters at the memories his words elicit. As if I needed a reminder. Sheesh.
He tilts my chin and kisses me in a bold move in front of the other guys.
I’m dizzy by the time he releases me and have to grip the counter to keep my balance.
I chance a glance at Decker but am completely unprepared for what I see.
Heat. Hunger. And maybe even a subtle hint of frustration.
He stares right at me—always staring—then beckons me with one finger.
As I approach, he pulls me close, almost as if he wants to hug me. His hands work their way into my hair, which I’ve curled into big waves for the party. He weaves his fingers through the strands, then tilts my head back where he wants it and pulls. Hard.
I gasp, and he smirks.
“I missed you at the party last night,” he says coolly.
“I saw you at the party,” I remind him.
He pulls on my hair again and all but growls, “It wasn’t enough.”
His attention dips to my lips, then quickly travels back up. He repeats the movement, puzzlement clouding his expression.
“What’s wrong?” I worry, concerned that maybe he has a headache or is dealing with another side effect from the concussion.
He’s been doing really well over the last few days—avoiding screens and resting as much as he can.
I didn’t even think about checking on him earlier.
When he doesn’t respond right away, I double down.
“Decker. Talk to me. Are you okay?”
“Your lipstick,” he murmurs. “It didn’t smear when Kylian kissed you.”
That’s what he’s concerned about?
I hold back a snort. “You were watching?”
“Always watching, siren.”
My heart trips over itself in delight. He’s never called me that before. He’s never called me anything other than Josephine. Blushing, I lick my lips, and his eyes track the movement.
“It’s waterproof. Smudge proof. Kiss proof, too, I suspect. It’s not budging.”
He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes alight with mischief. “I might have to test that theory tonight.”
A foghorn sounds in the distance, breaking the spell we’re under. I take a big step back to put distance between us, then remember where I am and spin. Locke and Kylian are both watching. There’s no way they missed that interaction.
“Here’s the deal,” Decker announces.
Every eye snaps to him. Kendrick has slipped back into the room for the debrief, too.
“There are four boats anchored out there tonight. You guys know the drill. Tenders bring guests to the yachts, between the boats, or back to the parking lot. No one comes back to the house without unanimous agreement in the group text. And no one comes aboard without proper ID.”
The guys are all nodding, as if this is a normal Sunday evening for a group of college students.
“Be smart,” Decker continues. “Stay safe. Keep your phone on you at all times, just in case.”
Then he turns to me. “Tell me if you’re switching boats.”
My gut instinct is to argue. No one else has limitations. And why do I have to report to him? But going toe to toe with Decker just for the sake of arguing doesn’t have the same appeal it once did.
Instead, I accept him at his word, choosing to heed the concern I see in his eyes. He’s not just a bossy asshole. Being in control is his way of protecting his people.
Does this mean I’m one of his people now?
It thrills me to realize it does.