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Her mother was wrong; she and Avery could be just friends.
And then Jillian’s thoughts rolled back to that moment in her kitchen when she’d been brushing the flour from his chest. Something had happened there. It was in the way he’d looked at her. The way he touched her hand. It was as though the ground had moved beneath them.
Or it could just be her overactive imagination. It was the simplest and safest explanation. To fall for that cowboy all over again would only end one way—with her broken heart. Because his boots were made for walking…right out of Marietta. He made that known to everyone—including her. Not even the chance to own the Crooked S Ranch was going to sway him to settle down in a relationship.
Chapter Twelve
Maybe my mother was right.
Wait. Had she just voluntarily admitted that her mother was right about her and Avery? Jillian inwardly groaned.
Avery leaned her way. “Did you say something?”
Oops! She’d have to work harder to keep her thoughts to herself. “No. It wasn’t me.”
Avery leaned back in his chair at Jillian’s cousin’s wedding. They were seated at a round dinner table with white linens. A cupcake stand in the center held eight cupcakes decorated in purple and white.
Avery had been a perfect gentleman for the past couple of hours, but he’d also been incredibly quiet. She knew he was anxious to leave. So was she.
She turned her head his way. “We’re almost out of here. Just as soon as they cut the cake.”
He nodded in understanding, but he still didn’t say anything.
“Hello, Jillian,” said a voice from behind her.
Jillian shifted in her chair to find her oldest cousin, Mary, standing there. Her husband, a named partner in a law firm, stood next to her. The man wore a frown as though his face was permanently glued into that position. His gaze never met Jillian’s. She never did understand his uppity attitude toward her family, but she did her best to ignore it.
A fake smile lit up Mary’s face. “Beautiful wedding, huh?”
“Yes, it is,” Jillian said. “The bride and groom look so happy together.”
“Now, you’re the only spinster in the family.” Mary wore a smug expression as she slipped her arm through her husband’s.
Mary was right. With Jillian’s cousin, Karen, now married, Jillian was the last of her mother’s side of the family to be single. Normally this didn’t bother Jillian, but sitting next to Avery, it made her wonder just how pathetic she must appear to him.
“She isn’t alone.” Avery turned to Mary and then he reached out for Jillian’s hand. “We’re together.”
Mary’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were nothing more than a plus one—someone to keep Jillian from looking so—lonely.”
Jillian’s whole body tensed as she struggled to keep her mouth shut for her mother’s sake.
Avery came to her defense. “You heard wrong,” he quipped. Then he turned to Jillian. “Would you like to dance?”
Stunned into utter silence, Jillian merely nodded.
Hand-in-hand they moved away from her sputtering and fuming cousin. Jillian was still trying to wrap her mind around what had happened when Avery led her onto the dance floor.
Suddenly Jillian remembered his injured leg. “We can’t dance.”
His brows drew together. “Why not?”
“Your leg. I don’t want to do anything to make it worse.”
“I might not be Fred Astaire, but I’m healing. I don’t think a little dancing will hurt.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Now come here.” He held his arms out to her.
