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She turned slightly to face him, angling her knee on the smooth stone beneath them. Without a second thought she clasped his hand in hers and pulled it into her lap. “I’m asking you because you’re the only man in the world I trust. And…I need the money. I know I’m asking a hell of a lot to ask you to do something this drastic and just…have a little faith in me. Trust me that I have a really good reason. I need your help.”
He squeezed her hand and took a deep breath. A moment of panic surged inside her and she was certain he was about to turn her down.
“Please, Dean. I’m not asking for you to give up your life and I’m not asking you to love me.” She paused as heat crept up her neck. “I-I mean not love me as anything other than your friend. I’m sure you’ve got a girlfriend and you don’t have to give that up. This is going to be in name only. Just a legality as a means to an end.”
The thumb that had been stroking the back of her hand gently stilled and he blinked slowly three times. The heavy weight that settled between them and the dark clouds that formed in his eyes both disappeared several excruciating moments later.
His playful grin, the one she couldn’t resist, the one that found her breaking more rules than she cared to count over the past nineteen years, spread across his face. “Well, we’ve watched enough of those damn reality shows you love so much. If you aren’t gonna give me a rose, the least you could do is put a little romance into the proposal.”
She couldn’t help but giggle, partially from exhaustion, partially from an overload of stress that she was certain would break her, and partially from overwhelming relief that she was now certain of his answer. Trusting Dean to blindly agree to help her fix her problems was a no brainer. How could she have ever doubted that he’d be there when she needed him?
Jillian hopped from the rock and took a few steps away before turning around to face him, walking backwards. “If you require romance, Mr. Carlisle, I’ve got you covered.”
She crossed to the patch of grass that included yellow and purple wildflowers. She gathered a handful before returning to him and dropping to one knee on the soft ground in front of the stone.
“Dean Emerson Carlisle, would you do me the great honor of marrying me and being my completely legally, but emotionally fake husband for the next year and a half before divorcing me and eschewing this insane union?”
He grabbed the bedraggled flowers and clutched them to his chest with excessive dramatics that tested her ability to keep a straight face. “Who could say no to that?”
Chapter Four
Dean
Nineteen Years Earlier
The hot summer wind stung his cheeks, but Dean kept pedaling faster, reveling in the bite rather than avoiding it, the thrill of the increasing speed as he descended the hill toward the lake propelling him on. He kicked his feet backward and turned the handle, skidding to a stop inches away from the enormous rock where the pretty little redhead sat perched again.
“Hey.” He lifted his chin at her the way he’d seen Wyatt do to girls a hundred times before and unbuckled the strap beneath the helmet.
She crossed her bare legs at the ankle and folded her hands in lap. “Hello, Dean.”
He dropped onto the smooth surface beside her and scratched at the hair his mother had been pestering him to stop fighting her about cutting. “Why do ya talk so funny?”
Jillian tilted her head and scrunched her freckled nose. “What do you mean? I speak very well, all my teachers think so.”
Dean hopped off the bike and let it fall to the ground, not bothering to prop it up with the kickstand. “You talk like some fancy schmancy adult. Who does that?”
She dropped her gaze to her lap and ran a hand over her one piece floral print romper, ironing out an invisible wrinkle from the pristine garment. “E-e-elo—” She knitted her brows together and thinned her lips into a straight line, determination etching into her creamy skin. “Elocution is very important at my school. And definitely to Mother.”
“Yeah, that’s another thing.” He raised his foot up until his leg was angled and draped an arm across the knee. “Where do ya go to school? I’ve never seen ya on the bus or in my class or even at recess.”
Jillian peered at him from beneath her long lashes. “I go to Ravenhurst Academy. It’s where all my parents’ friends’ send their kids.”
He’d heard the name before and was happier than a bumblebee buzzing around a freshly bloomed flower that he didn’t go there when he saw the uniforms they were required to wear. They looked hot and boring and made everyone seem like a cookie cutter of the student beside them. “You mean your friends?”
She shrugged and looked to her left, in the opposite direction of where he sat. “No, I don’t have friends. Not really.”
Somehow before she even spoke he knew what the response would be and a fresh wave of something he couldn’t quite understand washed over him. He thought he had a rough time with three slightly overprotective and seriously annoying older brothers but he couldn’t imagine the life she led. How was it possible that a girl who lived in the enormous, imposing house he could see off in the distance didn’t have toys or friends?
“D’ya like ridin’ bikes?” No matter what she certainly had to have a bicycle and he was sure it was a beaut that outshone even the one that Tanner had.
“I’ve never ridden one, but it looks fun.” She leaned a little to look around him. “Although you were going really fast…is that safe?”
He slapped the heel of his hand to his forehead. Without a word he grabbed her hand and drug her off the rock and over to where his bike lay on its side. “All right, Jillybean, I’m gonna fix that. Right now.”
She planted her feet and tugged on the hand he was holding, halting him from moving forward. “What did you just call me?”
Dean rolled his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. “I like you. You talk funny and you’re kinda weird since you don’t have toys or friends, but I like you.” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “But ‘Jillian’ sounds like the name of someone my mom would have over for tea. Plus you’ve got a freckle on the top of your nose that’s shaped like a jellybean.”
