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Dean smiled, this was definitely his comfort zone. He may have spent far more years than he cared to admit floundering around for his purpose in life, but now that he’d discovered it, he loved to talk about nothing more.
He made a mental note to actually talk about it to his wife. And soon.
“I run a program with my cousin Mat at my brother’s ranch. He’s a psychologist that is trained in helping those who are recovering with addiction. We utilize equine therapy as part of their rehabilitation process.” Dean leaned forward in his chair slightly. “We have worked with a wide variety of addictions including drugs, alcohol…and gambling.”
Edward’s eyes widened, but he stayed silent and Dean took that as an encouraging sign.
“I’ve already told you that Jillian explained everything to me and I know all too well that admitting you have a problem is the hardest and biggest step, but your addiction has gotten to a point where your family was in jeopardy. Your home was in jeopardy. Hundreds of years of the legacy you are so proud of was in jeopardy.”
He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “I came here to invite you to RA Ranch and join us. There is no judgment, only an offer of help.” He swallowed down the inexplicable lump that formed in his throat. “Please, consider the option.”
Silence took over the room as he ended his short, but familiar speech, slightly modified each time he gave it. The only sounds beside their breathing that filled the large space was the tinkling of the ice on the crystal as Edward swirled his cup.
Dean stood and rubbed his palms down the thighs of his jeans. “Thank you for giving me the time to talk to you.”
With that he crossed the room, knowing from experience that it would take time before someone as proud as Edward Monroe was ready to face his failures and admit he needed help.
Just as his hand landed on the finely etched iron handle, Edward called out to him. “Dean, wait.”
He turned slightly and looked at the older man over his shoulder, brows lifted in question.
“I…” Edward stood, resting his fingertips on his desk. “Can you tell me more about your program?”
***
Jillian
Present Day
Jillian topped off Angela’s glass and set the wine bottle on the coffee table as she folded a leg beneath her and dropped down onto the couch beside her friend. “You just got here. It sucks you’re leaving again.”
The other woman took a long draw from her glass. “Don’t you have a husband that you need to give some attention to? He couldn’t have been happy to have me here cramping your style and forcing you two to keep it down last night.”
Heat pooled near her collarbone and crept up her neck. With their guest sleeping a few feet away on the sofa, nothing happened that required intentional silence. However…
An avalanche of dirty and delicious memories from their wedding night cascaded through her mind and caused a knot of desire to form low in her belly.
She was a damn fool to suggest they try out the whole “friends with benefits” bullshit. She loved him. As much as she tried to deny it since the realization first hit in high school, she still did.
Taking their relationship to that level of intimacy once was stupid. Flames of condemnation slowly moved closer to her cheekbones. Twice was idiocy. Desire dried every drop of moisture from her mouth. But the third time they’d had sex that night was totally on Dean. He’d woken her from a deep, dreamless sleep with his lips on her neck and…
Holy hell, she was hopeless.
“Dean and I…” Her words trailed off and she quickly downed a large gulp of the red wine. “Things are different for us. I can guarantee you that he didn’t utter a single complaint about having you stay here.”
Angela set her now empty glass on the coffee table. “Different and boring are not synonymous. Why the hell didn’t you two take a decent honeymoon?”
Because it was a fake wedding and it’s a fake marriage and the only real thing that will come of this is my completely and totally shattered heart. Oh yeah, and my super proper southern family is the reason this all happened so I could save them from ruin and rejection.
She wasn’t certain if it was the nearly empty third glass of wine or desperation to let out all the half-truths and deception she resented carrying, but the truth danced dangerously close to the tip of her tongue, threatening to be spoken any second.
“We’ve known each other forever.” She offered with a small shrug. “Our marriage came from twenty years of friendship.”
Angela pulled her legs up on the sofa and wrapped her arms around them, hugging her knees to her chest. “Mmm, and is there any specific reason why you failed to mention that your bestie was hotter than Hades in summer?”
Jillian tipped the wineglass back and the last drops of the sweet crimson liquid slid down her throat. “Possibly because I spent many, many years of that friendship pointedly ignoring that small detail.” She set the crystal on the coffee table beside the bottle and mirrored Angela’s position. “Do you have any idea how miserable it is to be seventeen and madly in love with your best friend who basically can’t see you as anything even resembling a real girl?”
Angela laughed and grabbed a throw pillow, tucking it between her head and the back of the couch as she pushed a few errant dark curls behind her ear. “I’m sure he outgrew that phase pretty quick. That boy is devoted to you.”
