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His own traitorous heart cracked slightly. “You think last night was a problem?”
Crimson stained her cheeks and she ducked her head. “Not…necessarily. But I don’t want things to get confusing or for you to get hurt. We’re doing a lot of pretending in front of people.” She drew in a deep breath. “And outright lying. I-I just don’t want things getting too complicated.”
He turned his hand beneath hers and laced their fingers together. “It wasn’t the first time we’ve ever kissed and we survived that just fine.”
A small smile curled her lips and she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “That was different. We were kids and we were just…experimenting.”
Looking back, Dean was almost certain he was beginning to fall in love with her then, but was just too stupid to realize it. “And this time we are practicing for our wedding day to make it very convincing.” He gave her a wink that was far more confident than he truly felt. Which was incredibly annoying since this girl was the only one who managed to make him unsure about anything.
She pressed her lips together and pinned him with a suspicious stare. “So we’re okay?”
“We’re okay. It was a moment that was bound to happen.” He narrowed his gaze and affected the most disapproving scowl he could muster. “That doesn’t mean you can get shit-faced and make stupid decisions tonight.”
Jillian propped her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands with a groan. “Oh hell, I forgot that was tonight.” She kicked him lightly beneath the table as she resumed eating her breakfast. “No hooking up with a random stripper, either.”
Dean snorted and took a huge bite of his sandwich. “You realize that my bachelor party is being organized by my three very married, very in love, and mostly very boring brothers.” He swallowed. “And Mat, but he doesn’t count because he’s still getting over the whole divorce thing.”
The phone still lying on the end table in the living room chirped to life. Dean frowned as he stood to retrieve it, wondering who the hell would be texting him this early on a Saturday morning.
As soon as he swiped across the screen a smile curled his lips. Between the kiss that rocked his world and the sleepless night that followed, he’d almost forgotten about the surprise he’d somehow managed to pull off just in time for Jillian’s night out with the girls.
“Hey, I’m gonna hop in the shower. I’ve got a few things to do before tonight.” He tilted his head. “We’re okay, right?”
Jillian turned her lips inward as she stood and crossed the room. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. “As long as you’re my best friend, we’re okay.”
The woman was tearing him apart from the inside out and didn’t have a clue. He held her close, both reveling in and cursing the moment. And hoping against hope that somehow he could make her fall in love with him.
Letting her go might kill him.
***
Jillian
Present Day
After she secured the twentieth bobby pin in place, she turned slightly in the mirror and nodded, happy to have her ginger locks high on her head with a few rings cascading down each side. For the third time she quickly crossed to the window when she heard a loud engine, hoping Dean would be home.
Sooner than she wanted, she’d be faced with the bridal party of her mother’s dreams and she’d spend the night pretending to have fun with whatever they had planned. Her saving grace was that Dean’s sisters-in-law had agreed to come along as well.
All except a very pregnant Georgia who Jillian promised a special night out with after she delivered her and Wyatt’s second child.
Jillian groaned as she applied a swipe of pink lip gloss across her lower lip and pressed them together. Next to Dean, Angela was her closest friend and her heart ached to have her miss this event.
Even if it was a party to celebrate the biggest lie of her life.
“Honey, I’m home,” Dean called out from the front of the house, silencing the avalanche of thoughts causing her temples to throb.
She smoothed a hand over the front of her asymmetric ivory dress before exiting the bedroom and promptly stopped still at the periphery of the living room, her bare toes touching the edge of the area rug covering the hardwood floor. Her gaze narrowed in on his mischievous smirk. “What are you up to?”
His eyes widened and he clasped an excessively dramatic hand to his chest. “Why, Jillybean, how could you ever think I’d hold something back from my betrothed? What an awful implication.”
Jillian arched a single brow and ignored the pinprick at her conscience at his comment. “It certainly wouldn’t be because you’re guarding the door like a dopey pit bull, now would it?”
He folded his arms across the chest—the one that was so much broader and stronger than she remembered—and attempted to affect a stern glare. But the twitching of his lips gave him away. “Dopey pit bull? With that attitude, I’d take your gift back if it were returnable, Ms. Monroe.”
Her fingers toyed with the delicate embroidered flowers along the hem of the sheer overlay of her dress. “Gift?”
A wide smile took up residence on his face. “I know you haven’t exactly been looking forward to any of this with your merry little band of Stepford wives in the making as your bridal party.” His humorous stare turned soft. “And since I’m currently filling the role of dashing groom, it would be a little weird for me to be there for girl’s night, so I got the next best thing.”
