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She didn’t doubt for a moment that he would follow through with this, but an unusual measure of embarrassment at admitting the truth kept her mouth sealed shut.
The conflicting and confusing emotions she’d found herself mired in since her mother’s first frantic phone call two months ago only deepened with the reminder that she’d dragged Dean into this and he’d been a freaking saint about the entire thing.
That was a title she never thought she’d bestow on him.
Her phone dinged and his name flashed across the screen along with a ridiculously goofy picture of the two of them that was taken just before she left for her most recent trip.
Dean: If my blushing bride is finished, I’ll be there to pick her up in 15 minutes.
She rolled her eyes at the “blushing bride” bit, but couldn’t stop the grin from taking over her face as she hastily typed out a reply. She’d just finished going over final details with the seamstress when a roaring engine came to a stop outside the glass door of the bridal shop. Seconds later Dean strolled in all swagger and bullshit, just like always.
“There’s my beautiful wife-to-be.” He smiled broadly, tossing a wink at the older woman behind the counter. “Ready to hit the road, sweet cheeks?”
Jillian kept her face as jovial as she knew it should be and allowed him to tuck her under his arm until they were on the sidewalk, the door softly swishing shut behind them. Then she smacked the back of her hand on his t-shirt clad chest and turned to him. “Sweet cheeks? Seriously, Sparky, that’s what you came up with, sweet cheeks?”
Dean merely laughed in response and handed her a black full face helmet with a tinted sun shield. “How about you just put this on or I’ll figure out something less adorable to call you, my darling wife?”
Her eyes bounced from the sleek motorcycle parked beside the curb to the helmet and then up to Dean several times in that order. “I am not getting on that thing with you.”
“Aw, come on, Jillybean.” He turned his mouth down into a pout that shouldn’t be as adorable as it was. “I’ve even gotten Mom to ride with me. I promise I’ll be extra safe. I wouldn’t want anything to keep you from walking down the aisle with full use of all appendages.”
She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth and rolled the helmet between her palms. “Nothing over forty.” At the immediate brightening of his face, she held up one finger. “Make that thirty-five.”
Dean threw one leg over the bike and patted the seat behind him before sliding his own, identical helmet in place. “You won’t regret this. In fact, I’m pretty damn sure you’re gonna love it. How many times did I take you on a ride when we were kids?”
With a snort she pulled the heavy hunk of plastic over her head, not fully convinced it could actually save her life in the event of a massive crash. She flipped up the visor so she could see well enough to take her place behind Dean and immediately wrapped her arms around his waist, not trusting her balance. “We weren’t on major roads and we sure as hell weren’t going at a speed that could get us maimed or worse.”
He kicked the stand and planted both feet to hold the bike upright. She slid the tinted shield back in place and was amazed by the clear view, completely protected from the sun’s bright rays. He revved the engine to life and she tightened her hold with a small “eep.”
Somehow his deep voice spoke softly in her ears louder than the roaring machine. “Put your right hand up beside the visor, do you feel a small button there? Tap your index finger on my stomach twice if you find it.”
Jillian felt around the plastic until she located the smooth circle and thumped her finger on the soft cotton covering his surprisingly firm abdomen. When had Dean grown a six pack?
“Good.” The measured tone was gentle and managed to ensnare her already tangled stomach in a fresh knot, this one very different from the stress-induced ones she’d almost grown accustomed to. “If you press that you can talk to me through the Bluetooth mic in the facemask just like I’m talking to you now.”
With that instruction, he kicked the bike into gear and sped off down the road. Jillian immediately returned her arm to his waist and held on tight, pressing her body firmly against his back. When they made a left turn onto a main road, she lifted a shaky hand to the button he’d told her about. “This feels like a lot faster than thirty-five, Sparky.”
His answering laugh filled the helmet and the familiar sound managed to settle her nerves. “Trust me, Jillybean. I’d never let anything happen to you. Just relax and hold on tight.”
With the simple reminder that of anyone in the world, she could trust him, some of the tension drained from her spine. As their ride progressed she practically melted into him, falling in love with the fresh air circling around her body and the countryside seemingly flying past.
He was absolutely right. This was amazing.
Right up until soft drops of rain soaked through her shirt and quickly grew to hard pelting drops that bit into her skin.
Once more Dean’s voice came through the speaker and filled the space around her, first with a string of epithets. “I’m going to pull over up there a little bit. We can wait under the tree for this to pass.”
Even though the large oak was just a couple of hundred feet ahead, the sudden cloud burst dumped buckets of water on them both, thoroughly soaking her light top. By the time they parked, she was shivering behind him.
He helped her off the bike and pressed her against the trunk of the tree. “I’ve got something for you.”
Jillian’s teeth chattered as she stood with her back on the roughened bark, hugging herself tightly. Even if she caught pneumonia it would be totally worth it. That was the most fun she’d had in longer than she cared to admit.
Dean pulled her close to him and dropped a heavy jacket around her shoulders, tugging it together, and bringing near immediate warmth. He cupped her cheek and he tilted her head up to look at him. “Better?”
She swallowed a few times, her voice failing every time she tried to speak so she finally simply nodded in response.
His hand stayed pressed to her face, his thumb slowly stroking across her damp skin, his eyes never once leaving hers. “Jilly…I…”
