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“Yes, yes, fine, the bush.” Even though they were only on the phone, Jillian was certain her mother waved her hand dismissively with the comment. “And I’ve always been kind to your little friend. Even though he comes fromnewmoney.”
Jillian rolled her eyes so hard she was afraid she’d incite the return of the headache that had plagued her all morning. “I don’t mean cordial, Mother, I mean nice. Friendly even.” She held a breath for a moment. “And his parents, his entire family, they…they don’t know why. I thought it wise to keep those who know the truth to a minimum considering the circumstances.”
It was a lie, but one she knew would be effective. Her mother would rather die than have it widely known the Monroe family teetered on the edge of financial disaster.
Some strangled sound from her mother answered before any words did. “Of course I’m not going to say anything. This isn’t exactly happy news. Well, not for me. Possibly for Priscilla Gordon.”
“I assume you’re planning everything, yes?” If Jillian had her way, if this had been her real wedding, Helena wouldn’t have come near any of the plans. But the wedding, like the marriage, was simply for show. Even still, a small corner of her heart ached at that fact.
“Darling, you may be my daughter, but your taste is…questionable. Naturally, I’ll be handling all the details. I’ll send you information about your dress fitting tomorrow.”
With that, Jillian offered her mother a hasty goodbye and typed out a rapid fire text to Dean asking what time to pick him up. She grabbed clothes from her suitcase before hopping in the shower. Appreciation for hot water never waned and she took a few moments to let the nearly scalding spray wash over her body before scrubbing herself clean and stepping out to wrap a towel around herself.
She grabbed her phone and grinned as his face looked back at her, notifying her that he’d sent a message.
Dean: I’ll be done around five thirty, but take your time. I’m attaching the directions to Wyatt’s ranch. The keys are hanging on the hook by the door. Feeling better?
Her fingers flew across the screen.
Jillian: Much better thanks to your miracle cure and a few uninterrupted hours of sleep. Have great news for you, our wedding date is set. Aren’t you thrilled?
A dancing cow gif popped up within seconds and nearly caused her to double over with laughter. No matter what was going on in her world, Dean always managed to make her smile. It was one of the first things that cemented their unusual friendship.
By the time she’d dressed and rummaged through his refrigerator and cupboards to find something to eat, it was nearly five and she wanted to head out early since she’d never visited Wyatt’s dream-turned-reality. She pulled her long auburn waves back into the practical ponytail she sported nearly every day and grabbed the keys from the hook before exiting the townhouse and locking the door behind her. Even with the running boards offering a boost, she still had to climb into the high cab of the truck.
The GPS on her phone guided her to the ranch easily and she parked near the paddock watching Dean from a distance as he showed a man that was probably twice his age how to harness one of the horses. He gave the older guy a pat on the back and lifted his head just in time to meet her gaze and offer a smile.
The same smile that once-upon-a-time gave her butterflies. For that brief period in high school when she childishly entertained the notion that she was in love with her best friend. A crazy train of thought she was thankful she hopped off before she did something stupid and lost the single most important person in her life.
A spear lodged itself directly in her heart. The single most important person after her grandfather. His loss, though years earlier, was still so fresh to her. Even if his antiquated beliefs, combined with stupidity from her family, were the reason she was here grinning like an idiot as Dean jogged over.
“Any trouble finding it?”
Jillian shook her head, annoyed that a few strands of her unruly hair were already escaping. “Nope. Are you ready to go yet?”
A wide smile spread across Dean’s face and he shook his head slowly. Jillian immediately narrowed her gaze in response. That shit-eating grin could only spell trouble with a capital T.
He eyed her up and down, giving an approving nod to the denim shorts and teal t-shirt. “Glad to see you dressed just right. I’ve got Honey all saddled up and ready to go.” He winked. “Fredrock is an easy ride from here.”
It hadn’t dawned on her until that exact moment because she’d been so focused on making all the turns the robotic voice from her phone commanded, but in her mind’s eye she could picture the patch of land that now housed Wyatt’s ranch and realized it was just adjacent to the home where Dean had grown up, and hers as well by default.
She easily scaled the two logs of the fence separating them and landed in front of him on the dusty ground. “Why the hell didn’t you say so sooner?” She scanned the half a dozen horses enclosed with her. Only one had a saddle, and with the warm, earthy tones of the coat, it was easy to see why it would be called Honey.
Jillian looked up at him with a mischievous grin. “I’m riding in front.”
Chapter Eight
Dean
Fourteen Years Earlier
“He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me n—”
“Aren’t you a little old for that?”
Jillian’s head snapped up at the tone Dean had intentionally made as mature as possible, far more than his thirteen years on the planet should have allowed. “Aren’t you a little immature to be so bossy?”
His steps toward their sacred rock where Jillian sat with the half destroyed purple flower still in her hands halted. He straightened his posture to his full height and pulled his brows together. “You’re gonna lose that invitation to eat dinner at my house whenever you want if you keep sounding like my brothers.”
