Behind The Alpha Book 5 Deacon

JENNY

Can I just dig a giant hole and die in it? Please. I really need the earth to swallow me whole.

I stare at myself in my bathroom mirror. My heart hasn’t stopped since Deacon forced his way into my store.

OK, yes, he’s attractive, but he’s also assertive, confident and completely overwhelming. He’s also an Alpha male. I’m…powerless against…whatever he’s doing. Even now, I feel myself tremble knowing in a few hours he’s going to be here to “help" with the store. I know that’s not what he wants. He wants me to like him. It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I’m too scared to. I don’t know him and I have no idea if I can even deal with his pushy attitude.

When he followed me around the store the other day, I wanted to kick him out, but I didn’t know the first thing to say. I just acted like a complete brain dead idiot. It also seemed like the more I acted like I wasn’t interested, the more he wanted. How do I stop this? Someone help.

I straighten my blouse and pin my hair up. I check my light makeup and make sure my glasses are straight.

I’ve spent almost the whole weekend finalizing everything for the grand opening.

I head out of my apartment, down the hall into the door that takes me to the top of the winding staircase. A slight smile grows as I eye the clean, organized shelves. New and old books sit and wait to find forever homes with dedicated readers.

I was about to go to the till when I look out the window and see one of my plastic trees marking the entrance has fallen over.

I open the front door and hear it click behind me. I pick the tree up and place it on its base. I fluff out its leaves.

A man bikes by. “Mornin'" He yells with a wave.

I give a small wave back and turn to the door. I pull the handle and it doesn’t open. I scrunch my brow. I grab the handle with both hands and tug. “Stuck?” I push on it then pull again.

I am not locked out of my own store! I feel my cheeks heat and look around to make sure no one is seeing this. I frantically grab the handle and repeatedly tug on it. “Come…on!” I grit.

I give it a little kick on the bottom and keep pulling. It’s not locked. I know that.

In frustration, I give the door a swift kick with a girlie growl. I hear the snap of the hinges and the door falls. I jump back with a yelp as it lands on the threshold at my feet.

My face fills with disbelief and I let out little noises of shock. Less than 24 hours and my freaking door is on the sidewalk? You have got to be kidding me.

In my 5 inch heels, I lift it and place it in the frame. It falls as soon as I let go. I catch it and place it back down.

“Damn it.” I stomp my foot, fold my arms and look up the street. “Crap.” I grumble.

I walk across the door, pick up my purse and grab my keys. I can do this.

I have to do this quickly before someone robs me. I drive fast, but carefully through the main street traffic to the pack house. Deacon said if I need anything fixed he’s “my man". I don’t want to ask him to fix my door, but my funds for contractors is getting low.

I pull into the pack house driveway. The house is interesting to say the least. It’s a refurbished farm like building. It doesn’t look like a barn exactly, but it does at the same time. The red building with white trim is the largest structure on the property. I wonder how many rooms are in there.

I park and open my door. As soon as I get out, I hear dance music. I follow it to a large garage at the rear of the building.

I don’t know if I want to know who’s in there, but I can’t just hang around his driveway.

As I walk to the garage, the music gets louder. My ears are completely assaulted by it.

I had every intention just to deliver my request and leave, but as I enter the open garage door, I’m slammed right in the eyeballs by rock hard arms as he uses his power tool on his interesting and different looking truck.

I went full on roadkill as I stopped in my tracks, eyes wide, mouth small.

Each move he made sent shivers. I stood there and watched as his bicep flex under his smooth, tanned, inked skin.

His hips are swinging and his knees are bouncing to the beat. I feel my arousal start to rise as my eyes follow his movements.

He reaches for a tool and the bottom of his shirt lifts up. I let out a shaky breath at the sight of his tight ab muscles.

I barely notice him glance my way and smile. He stands straight and walks over to turn down the radio which my eardrums thanked him for profusely.

I feel my cheeks heat as he grabs a rag.

“Hey, Jenny. How are you?” He saunters over, wiping his large hands.

I took a moment to figure out why I came here in the first place. With a shake of my head, I remember. “M-My door fell off…Can you come screw it for me?” I thumb over my shoulder.

He stands in front of me and he bites his lip with a smile. “You…You want me to screw your door.” He confirms with a slight chuckle.

I blink at him for a second then realize what I said. My eyes shoot open. “Screw it BACK ON for me! Back on!! Oh God…” I fumble over myself and try to escape the utter humiliation I feel as I step back.

He laughs and puts up a hand. “It’s fine. I know what you meant.” He throws the rag on a table. “Take me to your door.” He motions out to the driveway with a smirk.

I groan and take him to my car.

He gets in and he still has the smile on his face.

I sit stiff as a board in my seat. I side eye is lap in his shorts. I try to stop, but my breathing is slowly increasing as the fabric leaves nothing to the imagination.

“Are we going?”

My eyes meet his, I give my head shake and clear my throat. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

I have got to stop ogling him. This is ridiculous. I’m an adult and this is not proper behavior. As I put the car in gear, I can’t help but look his way every second. I’m starting to sweat from having him beside me.

I feel my heart start to race as he shifts in his seat. His thighs are so toned and his chest threatens his t-shirt, it’s so tight.

My mind wanders and I start thinking things I really shouldn’t.

“Do you need me to drive?” He turns his head to me.

This brings me back to reality. “What? No.”

“Then stay in your lane.” He points out the window.

I turn my head and I’ve wandered into the other lane. “Oh, shoot!” I steer back into the proper lane.

He laughs. “You really are jumpy.”

“Jumpy? I’m not…jumpy.” I furrow my brow and grip the steering wheel.

“Yes, you are.” He grins. “What’s your story?”

“I don’t have one.” I stare at the road ahead.

He leans on the middle console. I internally whine. “There’s a story. I know it. I bet it rocks too.”

I glance at him. “No. No, it doesn’t. There’s nothing rocking here.” I stutter as I try to hide my embarrassment.

He looks me over. “Oh, there’s lots rocking.”

I reach out and push him back. “I just want my door fixed. There’s no need for that.”

He settles back. “Pushing me away isn’t going to work.” He looks forward. “Might as well accept the fact that I’ve adopted you now.”

I stitch my brows and turn to him. “A-Adopted? W-What's that mean?” I’m extremely concerned by this statement.

“It means, jumpy girl, you’re my friend now and nothing you can do will change that.” He grins.

“No.” I shake my head quickly.

“Yes.” He nods.

“No…I’m sure it does not work like that. We've had no talks of friendship.” I glance at him quickly.

“It does work like that. I’m your friend whether you like it or not.” He leans to me.

I shove him back. “You are my Alpha, not my friend.” My mouth is small as I shoot him a look. The last thing I want is an Alpha male as a friend. Especially, one as irritating as Deacon Riley.

“Speaking of which…I need you to link…”

“We're here.” I interrupt, park the car in front and get out. I don’t even want to link with him either. If he keeps acting like this, I’m not even sure I’ll be staying long enough to use it.

I shut my door and he gets out as I walk up onto the sidewalk. He walks over to my fallen front door and squats down. He nods and looks up at me. “You need new hinges. I can get them for you, but I need to borrow your car.” He squints in the sun and adjusts his skull cap. He looks so sexy when he does that.

No, Jenny. Just give him the keys and get this over with. I reach in my purse and pull them out.

I hold them out. “Be careful.” I mutter.

He leans to me again, which is becoming an annoying habit. “She’s in excellent hands.” He smirks and ticks his brows.

I lean my head back and try to not show my heart skipping beats. “Okay.” I mumble.

He takes the keys and jogs around the car. With a huge smile, he taps the roof and gets in. He turns it on and revs the engine.

“Uh…” I nervously raise my hand to him, but it’s too late. He slams it in reverse, backs up, puts it drive and makes a quick turn around in the street.

“…Uh…oh…” My fingertips go to my bottom lip as I fill with worry and watch him peel down the street in my tiny car like a formula one racer.

“Never again.” I shake my head and rub my neck like I have a tick. “Nope, never.” I press my lips together and wait for him to get back.

****

“OK.”

I’m behind my counter, trying desperately to ignore Deacon as he hangs my door back up.

I lift my eyes quickly to see him test the door then walk back to me, bouncing the screwdriver back and forth between his hands. “So, anything else you want me to screw?” He wiggles his brow and the screwdriver in the air between us as he approaches.

I narrow my eyes at his innuendo. “No.”

Just as I say that, a light from the back half of the store zapped and started to flicker. I slump as I watch the light blink on and off. “Really?” I motion to it with a frustrated sigh.

Deacon leans on the counter. “Looks like I do have more screwing to do. Round two, baby.”

I whip my head and glare at him as he cackles his way to the back, flipping the screwdriver end over end in his hand.

God, just go away!