The half of the salad already in her stomach turned and the accuracy of his words burned her cheeks. They hadn’t meant it, hadn’t wanted to hurt Spencer or Erica, but she and Dean had been friends for nearly a decade. Turning off everything that was ingrained by this stage was practically impossible.
Spencer pulled the napkin from his lap, blotted invisible food residue from his lips, and folded the napkin on his empty plate, fork and knife lying side by side on top to signal he was finished just as they’d both been trained in cotillion class. An unnecessary gesture considering the casual atmosphere of the steak house, but one she knew he couldn’t turn off if he tried.
“Listen, Jillian, I like you, but not enough to fight some dude.”
Jillian choked on her mouthful of water and coughed as she set the glass down. “What the hell makes you think you have to fight Dean? That’s absolutely insane.”
Before he could answer, she caught Dean across the room, face flushed and mouth drawn into a tight line.
Spencer sighed and stood. “That’s exactly what I mean. I’m sure your friend will take you home. Goodnight, Jillian.”
Dean stared quizzically at her as Spencer pushed past him to leave the restaurant. How in the world had this night gone this wrong?
Chapter Nineteen
Dean
Present Day
Having his three older brothers with him in the room at the back of the country club made the space go from small to damn near claustrophobic. The necktie, which suddenly seemed far too tight around his throat, certainly wasn’t helping the situation.
He’d barely managed to get it on because his hands were shaking so much. Tanner’s penetrating stare only managed to contract the iron grip of nerves holding onto his stomach. Dean swallowed several times then tried to smile as effortlessly as possible. “What’s that look for?”
A small half smile transformed Tanner’s serious face. “For as much shit as we’ve given you over the years, I never actually thought the day would come when you and Jillian actually got married.” He clapped the younger man on the back. “Hell, I didn’t really think you’d ever make a commitment.”
Everyone other than Wyatt believed the fictitious moment to be real and Wyatt not only knew the truth of the arranged marriage, but Dean’s feelings for Jillian as well. That meant that Dean could speak all the things he’d hidden from Jillian.
All the things he knew damn well he should have said before today arrived, but with each perfectly good opportunity he’d managed to chicken out.
“It’s Jilly.” He spoke her name with a reverence he hadn’t before thought himself capable of, but like everything else, she changed it all. “I’m pretty sure I’ve actually been in love with her since I was seven years old, I was just too stupid to recognize it.”
Wyatt settled deeper into one of the few chairs lining the room, kicked his booted feet up on another seat and crossed his ankles, pulling his ever present cowboy hat down over his eyes and leaning his head back. “So you’re an idiot, this isn’t news.”
Shit. His brother was coming dangerously close to…
Why the hell had he trusted Wyatt?
Instead of actually saying that, he arched a brow and pointed at his brother, even though Wyatt couldn’t see the action. “Me? You bailed on Georgia and barely pulled your head out of your ass far enough to win her back.” He turned an accusatory finger to Tanner. “You nearly lost a frickin’ Norman Rockwell idyllic life.” He moved on to Connor. “And I don’t really think you actually did anything wrong with Kelsey, but you get lumped in with those two assholes because you’re here and share DNA.”
Wyatt straightened in his chair, righting his hat enough to shoot Dean a dark glare. One mirrored by Tanner. Connor smacked the heel of his hand to his forehead.
“Nice inspirational speech, little brother.”
Dean sighed and folded his arms in front of his chest. “All I’m saying is that we’ve all screwed up. Hell, Dad even screwed up once upon a time.” Jillian flashed in front of his mind’s eye. “And I wasted a lot of years, but I’ve gotten a second chance with her and I’m not going to lose the opportunity to prove how much I love her.” His gaze swept over the three other men in the room. “I would think if anyone could understand that, it would be my brothers.”
The tight lines at the corners of Tanner’s eyes softened and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Basically all the Carlisle men are idiots who are lucky as hell we have very forgiving women.”
Dean grinned. “Yeah, basically.”
Tanner flicked his wrist then motioned toward Connor and Wyatt. “All right. Time for us to take our places.”
As the other men got into position and waited for Jillian’s attendants to arrive and take their arms, Dean took a moment in the silence of the small room and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose and slowly exhaling through his mouth. He was about to utter some very genuine vows to a girl who thought it was all a hoax to save her asshole of a father, her entire family.
Shit. He was just as big of an asshole for not opening his mouth and telling her sooner.
“Suck it up, buttercup,” he whispered to himself as he finally left the room and took his place in line behind Connor just before his older brother stepped out onto the aisle. You got yourself into one hell of a mess, now you just got to hope you can somehow find your way out of it without losing her.
Dean took careful, measured steps down the white satin material the covered the ground between the two groups of seats. He plastered a smile on his face and did his damnedest not to wince when he saw the tears streaming down his mother’s cheeks bracketing either side of her own broad grin.
He barely had a second to breathe when every atom of oxygen disappeared from his lungs. Jillian stood less than thirty feet from him in a gorgeous and—dammit all to hell—body hugging gown. Every delicate curve was accentuated in mouthwatering detail.
His knees nearly buckled beneath him as his gaze traveled up the front of the dress and his eyes feasted on the two small, pert orbs discreetly, but definitely noticeably showcased by the dip in the neckline.
Relief washed over him as she glided closer and he didn’t see a trace of the concern or worry in her eyes he was so certain would greet him. Instead her emerald irises sparkled back at him and a smile that rivaled his own nearly blinded him.
Just as Jillian and her father stopped a foot in front of him, the magistrate that golfed at the club with her father said something just over Dean’s right shoulder, but he couldn’t recite a word of it if someone held a gun to his head. Mr. Monroe nodded and spoke and the next thing he knew the other man was giving her a hug, then sliding her hand into Dean’s.
She lifted onto her tiptoes and put her lips close to his ear. “I know you’re only doing this because you’re frickin’ amazing and you’re bailing my ass out, but I wouldn’t want to do something this stupid with anyone but you.”
He grinned and winked as she pulled back and took her place by his side in front of the magistrate. “Right back atcha.”
The truth niggled at the back of his mind, but Dean squashed the voice down into oblivion when the magistrate turned to him, waiting for him to recite his vows.
He took both of her hands in his and held firmly, a small measure of surprise crackling through him as she tightened their hold even more. “Jillybean, I love you.” He poured every drop of sincerity he had into the handful of words, hoping she could somehow hear what he hadn’t actually said. “You are my best friend. Today I give myself to you in marriage. I promise to encourage and inspire you, to laugh with you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle.”
It was a vow that was a slight variation on the traditional, but neither of them were very traditional anyway. And it was absolutely perfect for the girl who had already been his best friend through three roller coasters’ worth of ups and downs.
***
Jillian
Present Day
> After the deep emotion that coated every word he spoke, she was fairly certain Dean should win an Oscar. And equally as sure that if she didn’t rein in the troubling emotions that bubbled to the surface after a decade of being put to rest, she would wind up with a shattered heart in eighteen months when he earned his well-deserved freedom.
It was just the dress. It had to be. That and all the ridiculous emotions she’d been compartmentalizing ever since the first call from her mother. She couldn’t really be entertaining the idea that she and Dean were actually getting married.
Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. It was her turn. She straightened her shoulders slightly and nearly lost every conscious thought in Dean’s sapphire gaze. Falling in love with the boy she’d shoved down romantic notions toward so long ago was absolutely, positively not part of the plan.
And yet it had somehow happened.
Fortunately for her, nearly everyone in the audience expected and wanted to see the level of love and commitment in both their vows that she accidentally somehow managed to feel for real.
“I love you, Dean. You are my best friend. Today I give myself to you in marriage. I promise to encourage and inspire you, to laugh with you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle.”
If she didn’t know better, she would swear there was a small drop collecting in the corner of his eye. But that was insane. Dean Carlisle hardly ever cried and certainly wouldn’t be invested enough to do so now.
Unless he was mourning the loss of his bachelorhood and ability to have sex for the next eighteen months.
She dutifully held her hand out as Dean slipped the band on her finger, right beside the engagement ring she’d found herself staring at more and more.
“With this ring,” he spoke the words so softly she could barely hear them, “I thee wed.”
Ainsley, Jillian’s maid of honor in name only, pushed Dean’s wedding ring in her free hand. She swallowed against the tide of emotions clogging her throat. No. This could not be happening.
But as her eyes connected with his once more, her heart screamed out its truth.
Dammit all to hell, she’d fallen in love with her best friend. A-frickin-gain.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” She wanted a damned glass of champagne. Not for celebrating their union, but as a reward for getting the words out without her voice cracking or the tears she was barely managing to contain spilling over onto her cheeks and streaking her mascara down her face.
Before the magistrate could even finish speaking, Dean snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him. He offered a wolfish grin half a second before he devoured her mouth. The soft gentle caresses that had started their unexpected kiss beneath the tree in the rainstorm a few days earlier was eclipsed by the brazen desire he poured out in this moment.
An Oscar, an Emmy, and a frickin’ Tony. His acting was better than anything she’d seen on the big screen, the small screen, or Broadway.
Her responding enthusiasm, however, was wholly genuine. And fractured a small portion of her rapidly beating heart.
Long before she was actually ready, he broke the kiss and a mischievous smile curled his lips. “Piggyback ride?”
Her mouth fell open. “You mean here? Now?”
“Nothing would piss off the Ice Queen more and nothing else even comes close to being right for me and you.”
She pulled on the delicate skirt of her dress until the hem hit just below her knee, giving her hips enough room. “I don’t know when it happened, but somehow Dean Carlisle grew up to make very logical and rational arguments.”
With that she hopped on his back, threw her arms around his neck, and completely ignored the bouquet Ainsley tried to give back. The majority of the guests erupted into cheers and laughter as they walked back down the aisle, but there was a near deadly silence from the area where her mother sat.
And she couldn’t be happier about that fact.
He set her down just outside the doorway to the large room where they’d said their vows and she held his face with her hand to keep his gaze on hers. “Dean…”
Before she could find the words, the entire bridal party poured out of the room and surrounded them, Dean’s brothers giving her kisses on the cheeks and telling her that welcoming her to the family was pointless since she’d been a member for two decades already.
They stood dutifully in the reception line, shaking hands, and giving hugs. Mike and Tracy Carlisle very nearly shattered her barely functional heart with the elation written all over their faces.
The evening continued the whirlwind pace, not allowing her the time to collect her scattered, confusing thoughts. They moved from table to table to speak with guests, but each time they approached a new one, the clanging of silverware against crystal wound up bringing their mouths together in almost constant kisses that left her even more perplexed than she had been seconds earlier.
When he collected her close to him for their dance, an idea popped into her head. She pressed even more firmly against him.
She could have blamed the champagne they’d drunk for the completely inappropriate path her brain was currently skipping down, but only two glasses after a heaping plateful of food and cake wasn’t strong enough to be held responsible. Maybe tonight could be slightly more traditional than she once believed.
“You’re my hero, you know that?”
He pulled back far enough to stare deep into her eyes without loosening his tight hold on her. “What?”
She sighed slightly and smiled. “You didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to rescue me and you most definitely didn’t have to help my family when they’ve been nothing but assholes to you. But you did. And you did it just because I asked…even before I drunkenly told you the whole story.” She winced. “Sorry about that. Again.”
His blue irises shimmered with amusement. “You’re actually pretty damn cool when you’re completely shit-faced.” He brushed his lips across her cheek and moved to her ear. “And marrying you is my pleasure.”
She turned her lips inward and bit down on them then laid her head on his chest.
The rest of the night she refused to release her hold on his hand. He gave her a single, quizzical look at first, then fell into the routine to keep up appearances.
Several hours later they arrived at the door of the luxury hotel suite Wyatt and Georgia had booked for them as a wedding gift after hearing they had no honeymoon plans. Dean swiped the keycard into the slot and propped the door open with one hip.
He laid a hand on her stomach, stopping her from entering. “What the heck, Jilly? Don’t you know anything about weddings and thresholds and all that romantic shit?” His grin widened. “Are we gonna need to queue up the reality TV tonight to remind you?”
Words failed to leave her mouth as Dean put one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees and lifted her close to his chest. Effortlessly he stepped across the threshold, punctuated by the door clicking closed behind them.
Their eyes locked in an intense stare she wasn’t certain she could identify. Her heart screamed that she should confess her feelings, but the quiet voice of reason in her brain quickly brought her back to reality.
They might not have a happily ever after, but this next eighteen months certainly didn’t need to a celibate bore. And she deserved a few happy memories to take with her when he left.
She set the small purse that matched her gown on the half-circle table placed by the entrance and turned to face him. “I have a proposition for you.”
His mouth quirked into a half smile and he leaned back against the door. “I’m pretty sure you and your harebrained schemes are what got us hitched in the first place. What’s your latest idea?”
Jillian closed the few feet between them. “Eighteen months is a hell of a long time for me to ask a Casanova like yourself to stay single.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed several times. “We talked about that. It’s fine.”
She shook he
r head slowly and tugged the tie free from around his neck. “You’re my best friend and I trust you implicitly. Just because this isn’t a normal, lovey dovey marriage doesn’t mean it can’t be…enjoyable.”
His eyes widened to the size of saucers. The shock value would have been highly entertaining if every cell on her body wasn’t buzzing with unfulfilled desire.
“Wh-what the hell are you getting at?”
“How would you feel about making this more like friends with some very fun benefits?” She took a deep breath, her bravado threatening to slip. “We care about each other, we trust each other, and, let’s face it, you’re pretty frickin’ cute. What do you say?”
Chapter Twenty
Dean
Ten Years Earlier
Tracy Carlisle propped her hands on her hips and glared at her youngest son, a penetrating stare that never failed to make Dean squirm. “I don’t think I remember making it an actual suggestion, I told you to do it.”
But it’s ridiculous, it’s not like it’s a date. He kept the comment and the attitude to himself, certain it would result in the loss of the car keys for a week at least. “Yes, ma’am, but it’s just Jillian.”
His mother lifted both her brows. “I don’t care if you’re taking one of Wyatt’s horses as a date, when you take a girl to homecoming, you buy her a corsage. Now hurry up and see if you can find somewhere within a ten mile radius that hasn’t already sold out.”
Dean dropped his head and stared at his shuffling feet. “Yes, ma’am.” He dutifully called local florists and cursed softly under his breath at the realization that his mother was right and he didn’t find one that had flowers in stock until the third one.
Meant to be More (Meant to Be Series Book 4) Page 14