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He was far from a culinary genius, but he managed to feed himself real food ever since he’d graduated college and found his own place, and he hadn’t poisoned himself in the process.
Dean whistled lightly as he put the “tastes like chicken” strips in the oven to bake. He’d resolved himself to taking Jillian on a special date this weekend and talking to her about everything. Certainly the past ten days of wedded bliss and heated nights had to convince her that he was all in for real, not just for a while.
Something he should have done a while ago, but he just…wanted the chance to show her just how good it could be if she was willing to take a chance on them.
He pulled two plates down from the cabinet just as the door leading to the garage latched closed. “Hey, Jilly,” he called out. “I’m making dinner.”
She hung her purse on yet another set of hooks she’d installed, this time by the basement entrance. “It smells good.” She leaned her rear end against the counter and drew her lips in between her teeth. “I need to talk to you about something.”
The heat from the oven as he opened the door had him blinking against the steam. He took the pan that held the strips out and set it on top of the stove. “That sounds a bit ominous.”
Distress etched itself in her features and she crossed her arms in front of her. “Sam offered me a job.”
His heart thumped harder behind his breastbone. It was like he was receiving a gift he’d never asked for, but desperately needed. Part of what he loved most about Jillian was her endless drive to help as many people as she could. It was also something he worried about most.
“You don’t look very happy about that. Most people are thrilled by a job offer.” He tried his damnedest to keep his tone light, but he also knew that she knew him well enough to hear everything he didn’t want her to.
She sighed and took the plate he offered her filled with kettle-cooked potato chips and the Caesar chicken wrap and took her seat at the table. “It’s not that. It’s…it’s a great job and I’ve only been there a few days, but it is an amazing program.”
He nodded and mirrored her actions, sitting to her right. “Yeah, we were pretty fortunate to get so much help from the medical community. Tons of doctors and nurses have been willing to donate time and supplies and it’s made a huge difference.”
Jillian chewed one of the chips slowly and stared at him. “You’ve never actually answered any of my questions on how you know Sam.” She took a long drink of her water. “Or the ones where I ask exactly what the hell it is you do for Wyatt. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a government conspiracy.”
“Don’t worry, Jillybean, I’m not an assassin and I have no plans to take you out.” He winked and was rewarded with her grin in response.
The truth was telling her about the program he started with Mat was part of the whole declaring his love for her thing. She was the reason he’d started it, she was the reason he’d finally found his purpose, she was the driving force for everything. And she had no idea.
Her faith in him, her gentle encouragement, and her unwavering support when he was drowning in a sea of uncertainty and doubt were exactly what he needed. And they all combined to give him the confidence to pursue something more meaningful with his life.
He loved her in so many ways and just needed to grow a spine and say it.
“Dean, I get that this marriage isn’t real—and I get that you should be nominated for sainthood for going through this for me—but you’re still my best friend and I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with you.” She swallowed the last bite of her wrap just as he finally took the first of his. A common theme for them.
He smirked. “What do you think I do at the ranch?”
Jillian grabbed the bag of chips from the counter, brought it back to the table, and loaded up her plate. “Exercise the horses? Clean the stalls? How the hell am I supposed to know what Wyatt has you doing?”
Monstrous, long dormant feelings surfaced with a vengeance. Even though he knew it was totally unfair to Jillian, an unexpected wave of anger and frustration swept over him. She honestly thought that he’d failed at life so hard he had to have big brother Wyatt give him a pity job? He took a deep breath. Okay, that might be a reasonable assumption after he changed his major for the third time.
But he had hoped Jillian of all people would think better of him.
“Right.” He stood and emptied his half-eaten dinner into the trash, grinding his teeth as he rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher. “Because the baby of the family needs his family to come to the rescue, right?”
Jillian rose from her seat and laid a hand on his forearm. “Dean, I never said that. You know I think you could do anything—”
He snorted and ripped his arm away. Self-created wounds he thought had healed gaped and bled out every drop of inferiority he’d experienced growing up without the focus and determination of everyone around him.
A small voice in the back of his mind told him that this was a ridiculous reaction to a completely valid assumption on her part. But the constant, nagging inferiority complex he’d harbored since adolescence—the one that he’d thought he finally silenced when he and Mat started their venture—screamed inside his head far louder than reason.
Confused emerald green eyes stopped him and banished the pain for a brief moment. Heedless of what she’d think, what she would read into it, what he was admitting by the action, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her flush with his body. His mouth captured hers, pouring every ounce of the confusing cascade of emotions that ran the gamut from love to frustration to anguish into the action.
He released her and a million things begged to be spoken, but he needed a clear head to do that. Instead, he grabbed his helmet and exited the front door before he said or did something he could never take back.
Dean drove around aimlessly for a few miles, then turned to point his motorcycle to the ranch. Nothing like gate crashing Wyatt and Georgia’s place.
He parked his bike and pulled his phone out of his pocket. That was a jerk move and he knew it. He swiped his fingers across the screen and sent Jillian a text he hoped would help redeem him.
Dean: I’m an ass, but I’m safe at the ranch. I’ll be home soon I promise.
