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After he was done, Wyatt eyed them both so closely that Dean squirmed on the bench beside Jillian where Wyatt had moved her to work on her foot. “If you two are gonna to rope me into this scheme that may land my ass in trouble with Mom and Dad, you at least should let me know why.”
Despite the demand, Wyatt carefully cleaned the wound as Jillian and Dean sat in silence. Dean shrugged slightly as she looked up at him with silent, pleading eyes.
She rolled her eyes at his lack of help and turned back to Wyatt. “Because my mother is the Ice Queen who lives in the glass castle and hates new money. If she knew I got hurt while I was with Dean…she’d use that as a reason to forbid me from playing with him.”
A grin spread across Dean’s lips as she quoted his nicknames for her mother even as a pang of hurt pricked something inside his chest. Not seeing Jillian just wasn’t an option. Instead of thinking too long on that he turned the smile to his brother. “Bonus for you, Wy. I won’t tell Mom and Dad you were cussin’.”
***
Jillian
Fifteen Years Earlier
“That was really nice of Wyatt to help me.” She drew her brows together and concentrated on walking as normally as possible despite the spike of pain that shot through her with every step.
The silence from the usually chatty Dean churned the peanut butter crackers and apple juice Wyatt had stolen from the house when his mother wasn’t looking and brought out to her in the barn after his stint as nurse on call for her injury.
In the distance she saw the sleek, black town car that her mother used glide down the driveway and out of sight. A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaped her mouth and her shoulders dropped slightly.
She was so much more fortunate than many children, but a small stone of dread settled in her tummy the closer they drew to her house.
Many of the galas, luncheons, and auctions her mother either hosted or chaired raised money for children of some sort. Impoverished ones, sick ones, at risk ones. The pictures displayed, tastefully and discreetly as her mother always insisted, were certainly reminders that she had a much more privileged life than many. Something she knew deep down, even at her tender age, that she should be grateful for.
But the time she spent with the Carlisle family took the small, pestering questions that formed when she watched TV shows or movies featuring families and turned it into a deep cavern of want. Mike and Tracy were strict parents in some ways, all the boys knew to respect their parents and always addressed them as sir and ma’am, but their devotion to their children was undeniable.
And something she was growing to wish she had in her own, otherwise lavish world.
“You think you got this?”
Dean’s abrupt question brought Jillian back to the present and she realized they were standing just on the edge of her property line. The same place Dean stopped every time he walked her home. Helena Monroe’s impeccable manners had been fully in place the singular time Jillian had dared bring the boy into her home, but her true feelings were painfully obvious even to children.
The scrape on her foot ached, but not nearly to the level that she portrayed when she scrunched up her face. “Could you just walk with me to the door? I’m afraid it might hurt too much to make it all the way on my own.”
He glanced from the house to Jillian and back again, squinting one eye. “The Ice Queen probably wouldn’t be real keen on that.”
“She’s gone.” Jillian piped up quickly, taking hold of his forearm. “I saw Ronald pulling out with the black town car only Mother uses.”
With that bit of information, Dean shrugged and plodded forward. It didn’t escape Jillian’s notice that he made certain he didn’t walk faster than her, letting her take hold of him when she needed a little help.
Although needed was a slight exaggeration.
Dean hung back at the door, but only required a small amount of urging to come inside. Jillian scoped out the empty landscape and tugged on his hand to pull him toward the staircase that led to her room.
Once she’d quietly shut the door, she inspected her outfit in the mirror before popping up onto the frilly bedding and bouncing slightly.
Dean raised a brow at her and twisted his lips to the side. “That’s a rather mir…uh…miraculous recovery.”
Her cheeks heated and she turned her head away. Even though she’d much rather be with Dean and his family, there was something comforting about having him as part of her world for a change and she couldn’t quite figure out why. So instead she kept her mouth firmly closed and tracked him as he wandered about her room.
He scratched his scalp of unruly brown hair. “This is a real nice room, for a girl I mean, but where’s your stuff?”
She turned her head and drew her brows together, staring at him in silence for a moment. “All of this is my stuff.”
Dean flung his arms out wide and turned in a circle. “Where are the toys and the games and the…ya know,stuff?”
Jillian pressed her lips together and pulled them both in between her teeth. “Mother feels that toys are a waste of time and that it’s better to read.” The slight ache in her heart turned into a few rapid thumps. “But…I do have some things I’ve saved. In secret that she doesn’t know about.”
A very excited, but very dangerous, grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “You know how much I love secrets.”
