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to say something.
    Grace
put a hand on his arm. “James,” she warned and, with a slight shake of her head,
made him stop.
    Hope
leaned toward her cousin and whispered, “His name is Corbet
Jen kins.”
    Cassandra
peered up at the man. “Oh, so it is. Sorry, Cor. Didn’t recognize you with my uncle’s lips puckered on your a—”
    She
jabbed her cousin in the ribs before Cassandra could say something else that
would infuriate her father further.
    Cor shook his head. “James? May I ask you something?” The
questions slid out in an easy, smooth southern drawl.
    Hope melted with his words. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever heard a
southern accent before, but his inflection was different. His enunciation had a
charm to it, a burr. She craved more.
    “Sure. Shoot, Jenkins.”
    “You said they were twins. They look nothing alike.”
    “They’re fraternal.” Irritation laced the statement. He pointed in
Cassandra’s direction. “The auburn haired imp on the right is a cousin. As you
know from work, her name is Cassandra. The grazing gazelle in the middle is the
youngest of my twins. Her name is Faith. Then on the end, there’s Hope, our
cute little pumpkin.”
    For some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, Hope was unfazed
by her father’s derogatory introduction and his attempt at a loving smile.
Instead, she sat rooted by Jenkins’s steady regard and half-mouth, roguish smile.
Uneasiness settled in her core. The hairs on her arms pricked. She had the
strangest, consuming urge to unzip his pants, caress the muscles hidden
underneath and have him press his body up against hers. Hope closed her eyes as
a chilling shiver ran through her, and when she opened them, her gaze landed on
Alden. He stood behind her father and the unsettling man.
    Hope, luv, keep your
wits about you .
    The soft spoken words in her mind sounded like Den had said them
aloud. But of course that wasn’t possible. Nonetheless, her heart warmed,
knowing her man was near. She smiled at her boyfriend, becoming caught in his
peaceful gaze.
    Den was a fine specimen of a man, dressed in his tropical print
short sleeved shirt and tan cargo shorts. The first three buttons of his top
were undone. She imagined teasing the exposed expanse of skin with her
fingertips and then licking the area she’d touched. Actually, it was what she
planned to do once they ditched her family, she mused with a delightful
shudder.
    Alden grinned and winked as if he had read her thoughts and agreed
with the idea.
    “Well, now, that’s something different,” Cass stated, picking at a
burger on her plate. “A broker feigning interest in his
client’s family. Interesting, very interesting.”
    “For the love of all
that’s holy. Young ladies, your behavior today has been deplorable. The disrespect…
The sarcasm’s not needed.” James pointedly stared at Cassandra. He ran a hand
over his face while shaking his head. “Good Lord. You’d think you’d have some
decorum at a work function.”
    Hope stared at her boyfriend, silently imploring him to intervene
before a family war broke out and ruined the picnic.
    Den offered a slight nod. He cleared his throat.
    James turned. “Ah, afternoon, Mr. Mochrie . Have you been introduced to one of I-D-8’s investors? Mr. Corbet Jenkins, Mr.
Alden Mochrie, one of the level designers.”
    “Have we met before?” Cor narrowed his eyes and raised a brow as
he shook Alden ’s hand.
    “Not formally. You’ve probably just seen me around the office
building,” Alden replied.
    “Come, gentlemen,” James requested, his tone and mood much lighter
when speaking to Alden and Cor. “I want to introduce Mr. Jenkins to some other
families and I’d like your assistance , Alden.” He slapped the men on their backs, as if they’d
been best buddies for years instead of months and weeks, and led them away.
    Hope’s gaze traveled from her father’s back to Cor’s then landed
on Alden’s ass. She loved the tight muscle structure