AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Actually, Mom, we have to tell you something first.”
Her stomach clenched with every word he spoke, then magically seemed to settle when he lightly trailed his fingers down her forearm and linked them with hers where they rested on her knee. The small voice in the back of her brain that belonged to her teenage self that briefly thought she wanted more from her best friend when they were in high school, took over her conscious thought. She found herself wishing this could be real.
Within seconds reality took control and logical thought reined the childish ideations she thought she’d banished. This was Dean and she wouldn’t do anything to risk losing him. Entertaining stupid, unrealistic emotions absolutely did that.
A spark flared in Tracy’s eyes and Jillian cursed both it and the hope that created it. And the immature, careless behavior that lead to this moment.
“Jillian and I are getting married.”
Silence blanketed the small group of four for half of beat of Jillian’s rapidly pounding heart before the explosion of hugs and tears took precedence. Mike Carlisle clasped Dean’s hand behind her and she barely registered the muttered “about damn time” that followed as she was once again pulled into an even tighter embrace from her soon to be mother-in-law. A title she desperately wanted to cherish, but knew she had no right owning.
Tears streamed down Tracy’s cheeks when she pulled back and held both of Jillian’s hands firmly in hers. “I knew that you two were meant to be more than just friends.”
The simple string of words played on repeat more than an hour later as they made the short, but jolting drive from his parents’ house to hers. Only a few hundred feet separated the two homes, but leaving the warmth and love that radiated through the Carlisle home for the distance and sterility of the Monroe estate was jarring at the best of times.
And this was certainly not the best of times.
A new thought occurred to Jillian just as Dean smoothly parked the functional truck in front of the looming mansion and she groaned, smacking her palm to her forehead.
“What’s wrong?” Dean’s thick brows drew together and his head tilted slightly as he pulled the key from the ignition. The nickname that never fell away as they grew up was a soft reminder of the strength of their relationship.
“I just realized that we forgot to bring my bags. You’re gonna be forced to come back to the Glass Castle tomorrow.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m making a mess of your life and I haven’t even been home for twenty-four hours.”
He pulled her hands gently free. “Hey, you aren’t making a mess of my life. I’m all in for this with you and it sure as hell isn’t the first stunt we’ve pulled together.” The corner of his mouth kicked up into the charming grin she couldn’t believe hadn’t landed him a wife yet. “Besides, do you think there is any way I’m letting my fiancée spend her first night back in the States under a different roof than me?”
“I’m not your fiancée.” Despite her words, she gripped his hand tightly in hers. “Not really, anyway.”
Dean shook his head. “You asked, I accepted, and now the Ice Queen gets to plan a wedding that we will both hate. Can’t get much more real than that.”
Jillian laughed at Dean’s childhood nickname for her mother, one she hadn’t heard in far too long. “All right, Sparky, let’s get this over with.” She released his hand long enough to climb out of the vehicle and ascend the stone steps at the front of her childhood home. At the threshold he linked his fingers through hers again and just gave a wink when she looked up at him seconds before the door opened in front of them.
As expected, her mother barely covered her irritation as she led them into the formal parlor. “Jillian, I realize this was a decision that had to be made in haste, but are you truly telling me that you couldn’t find a more…suitable choice?”
A familiar ember of frustration fanned into a flame of anger. Helena Monroe knew exactly why this was happening and was one of the primary reasons Jillian was home and lying to some of the people she loved most in this world. All the things she was doing that she hated, she was doing for the mother who never showed an ounce of the care that Tracy Carlisle did. For the father who made mistake upon mistake and left it for everyone else to clean up. For the cold structure that never felt like a home, but that Jillian was certain her mother treasured more than either of her children.
Even though Helena knew the truth, Jillian took that moment to pull Dean close to her side. Something not unusual for them, but with just a little more intimacy than the friendly embraces that were their norm. She fitted her body close to his and ran her thumb along his side before she snaked her index finger through the belt loop of his jeans.
“Dean isn’t simply a suitable choice, Mother, he’s the perfect choice for me.” She beamed up into his confused face. “In fact, we only came here to let you know that if you want to plan the wedding for June as you hoped, that was fine, but I plan on staying with Dean until then.”
Crimson mottled Helena’s creamy, surgically stretched cheekbones. “Jillian, that is absurd. This is atemporarymarriage of convenience simply to appease your grandfather’s antiquated stipulation and…” Her words died off before she revealed the secret Jillian was certain she’d rather take to her grave than allow anyone—especially Dean—in on the greatest shame the Monroes had ever experienced. “And no one will actually believe that you, the child of one of the oldest, most well-established families of Asheville, is marrying…new money.”
Jillian composed her face into the most compassionate expression she could muster and tried not to laugh along with the faint repressed rumble coming from Dean’s form pressed tightly to her side. “Oh, Mother, you underestimate people. They know I’m nothing like you. But do feel free to get started on the wedding.”
With that final comment, and just enough suspicion left at the validity of the engagement that was most definitely a ruse, Jillian all but dragged Dean out the door. Both of them collapsed against the side of the truck, letting the deep laughter they’d barely restrained free.
Dean sucked in a lungful of air and righted himself, a few giggles still remaining in Jillian as she swiped away a tear.
“All right, Jillybean, this night definitely requires we end it with copious amounts of alcohol.”
“I like the way you think, but I don’t feel like going anywhere that requires being too far from a horizontal place I can crash.” She ran a hand across her belly, aching from the full body chuckles she hadn’t experienced in far too long.
“Well, now, darlin‘…” Dean affected a deep, embellished southern drawl nearly identical to his older brother. “Ya see, Wyatt needs a place he can drink with cowboys and get as loud as he wants and Georgia runs a mighty tight ship.”
Jillian smacked Dean in the abdomen. “So what you’re saying is your big brother has turned your place into a cowboy frat house.”
Dean lifted his shoulders and turned down his lips. “Basically.”
She pulled open the door of the cab and climbed in. “All right then, partner, let’s see who’s better at beer pong.”
