CHANGING THE PLAYER: Charleston Pirates #1 Chance, Jacob (suggested reading .TXT) 📖

“Don’t think about that part. You and I are going to have fun and that’s what matters.”

“Isn’t too much fun what got us into this mess?” I remind him.

“We’re allowed to have good, clean fun. Maybe a drink or two, but that’s the extent of getting wild.”

“Okay. We might as well get going. The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can leave.”

“If we don’t stay long enough, everyone will assume we left early so you can have your way with me,” he says.

“Ha. Maybe they’ll think you’re having your way with me.”

His eyes skate down my frame before oh so slowly gliding back up. “With that dress on, they’re sure to.”

Caressing the soft material of the skirt, I smile. “Going to this event with you gave me an excuse to wear my new dress.”

“See, the night’s barely begun and you already found something positive to focus on. You’re a good influence.”

“You better hope so, for your sake.”

* * *

The fundraiser is taking place at a well known hotel in Charleston’s French Quarter. The brick exterior and architectural details reflect the area's southern charm. It’s not my first time coming here, but I’m still taken aback by the opulent interior when I step inside. Shiny marble floors, thick white pillars, an enormous crystal chandelier, and a curved double staircase are some of the showstoppers in the main lobby. The ornate gold framed mirrors hanging on the walls remind me of a time long past. It’s the perfect location to hold this two-thousand-dollar-per-plate dinner.

When Flynn takes hold of my hand, everything else falls away. His warm palm presses to mine, his long fingers wrap around and swallow my much smaller hand. I’m not sure how, but I feel it down in my knees that have weakened.

“Come on,” he directs, as if he knows I need the reminder to walk forward. Fortunately, my legs respond accordingly, and we follow the signs directing us down a long hallway.

The banquet room is done up with crisp white cloths, and large, colorful centerpieces are situated in the middle of the round tables. Sconces, evenly spaced along the walls, are lit and the overhead lighting is dimmed, giving the room a romantic ambience. Oh great.

Just what we need.

We progress across the floor, and I sense too many pairs of eyes zeroed in on us. What are they thinking about us holding hands?

My high heels click annoyingly against the hardwood and it’s chill inducing for me, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

When we reach our table, Flynn releases his hold and pulls out my chair. I sink down on the seat and audibly sigh out my relief. So far, so good.

Flynn takes the chair next to mine and we look around. We’re the only ones at our table for the time being.

He leans closer. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“What? Holding your hand?” I ask.

“Yeah. It wasn’t too repulsive was it?” His lips lift upward at the corners with the hint of a smile.

“It could’ve been worse,” I tease. If he knew the effect his touch had on me, he’d never let me live it down. Which is why he’ll never know.

“I’m going to go to the bar and grab some drinks for us. What would you like?”

“Something that packs a punch but won’t make me legless.”

He chuckles. “I think I can handle that. I’ll be right back.” He rises and walks away before I can protest. I don’t want to be left alone. It’s awkward as hell sitting here with no one else. Instantly, I flash back to the high school cafeteria and eating lunch by myself because I was the nerdy, shy girl. No matter how much time has passed, I can still conjure that same feeling up as if it happened only yesterday. You’d think with all the personal success I’ve had with my business it would crush those old insecurities to smithereens, but that’s not the case.

Fiddling with my small purse, I remove my phone and check for messages or missed calls. Since there aren’t any, I scroll my emails quickly, but there isn’t anything that needs my attention. Figures, the one time I’m looking for something to keep me busy, there’s nothing. Any other time, I’d be inundated with business texts and emails.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

I snap my head up and find Sadie and her fiancé, Brian, standing there. I know my face must show my relief as I stand.

Sadie moves in for a hug. “You looked like you needed saving from yourself.” Her red lips form a gentle smile as I step back.

“It was that obvious, huh?” I ask.

“Only to me.”

“Nadia, it’s nice to see you again.” Brian steps in for a brief hug.

“Please tell me you guys are sitting at this table,” I say, my hands poised for prayer.

“Sorry. I wish we were. We’re stuck at the table with my parents and some of their friends. It’s gonna be a wild night.” Sadie rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to leave you alone, but my mom is flagging me down as we speak.”

“She’s not alone,” Flynn’s deep voice replies from behind me. Turning, I take my drink from him and he slides into place beside me, placing his palm on the small of my back.

Sadie’s observant gaze bounces between us, no doubt noting Flynn’s solicitous behavior toward me. My stomach dips with nervous energy. I know she’ll be bombarding me with questions soon, definitely before the end of the night. This is what we wanted. We need people to see us and accept that we’re together. So why am I so keyed up?

The three of them exchange pleasantries while I stand here sipping my drink, lost in the doubtful thoughts swirling inside my head.

“I’ll swing back by after dinner,” Sadie tells us before they wander away.

I sink back onto my chair and suck extra hard on the tiny straw in my glass. I’m not sure what this beverage is, but it tastes amazing. Fruity and