“Hey, who says I did anything?”
Georgia pulled back and patted his cheeks. “You’re a Carlisle, and two out of three of your brothers managed to screw up their relationships. The odds are on my side.” She tilted her head slightly. “But Jillian loves you, it’s written all over her face. I guarantee you can make it through this.”
She dropped one more kiss on her husband’s lips before ascending the stairs to the rapidly growing cries from her small daughter. Wyatt’s eyes tracked her every move until she disappeared up the steps.
“Seriously, Dean, what did you do?” Wyatt lifted one leg to rest his ankle on the opposite knee.
He opened his mouth, but struggled to find the words he was looking for, a way to explain it that made sense. But Wyatt had known practically since he was born that he wanted to be a bull rider and eventually open his own ranch. That was always the plan. Was there a chance in hell his brother could understand where he was coming from?
“You and Tanner and Connor…” He lifted his hands helplessly. “The three of you have always had a clear picture of your future. Hell, Jillian has too. And my dumb ass changed my major three times because I couldn’t decide.”
He got up and carded his fingers through his hair as he paced the length of the room. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be the baby who doesn’t have a damn clue what I should do with my life while I sit back and watch my siblings just breathe and know what to do?”
Wyatt squinted beneath his ever present cowboy hat. “What the hell are you talking about? You and Mat have created something special, something you can be proud of. Why does it matter if it took you a few extra years to figure it out?”
“It took me years to figure out what every other person in my life just…knew. It means I’m irresponsible, unreliable, and unfocused.” The statement spilled from his mouth before he could even fully formulate the thought. He dropped down onto the sofa once more. “And that isn’t the kind of guy Jillian deserves. I kind of let my shit get between us tonight.”
Silence followed the practically whispered proclamation and the words hung between them. It was something he hadn’t admitted to himself, much less to anyone. As the seconds ticked by on the enormous clock that hung above the fireplace, he was calling himself every name he could think of for letting that particular cat out of the bag.
“Do you have any idea what it was like being next in line after the great Tanner Carlisle?”
Dean blinked rapidly, his brows furrowed together. “What?”
Wyatt let out a mirthless chuckle. “Tanner was made to take over Carlisle International. He followed in dad’s footsteps to a T and managed to always make the right decisions. All-star football player, champion baseball player…” His brother shook his head. “There were moments I hated his guts.”
An unexpected gratitude for the understanding he never thought someone as determined as Wyatt could possibly comprehend grew in his chest. For the first time some of the weight of the burdens he’d put on himself lifted.
Dean held up his index finger. “Same. You and Connor too, just a little less.”
This time Wyatt tipped his head back and gave a full, deep belly laugh. “The thing is, even though I always knew I wanted to go on the rodeo circuit, and even though I planned to open the training facility, that doesn’t mean I don’t know how you feel.” Wyatt leaned forward at the waist, resting his forearms on his knees. “My point is that just because I’ve been confident in one part of my life, doesn’t mean I haven’t questioned things.”
His older brother stood, grabbed a blanket and a pillow from the hidden closet close to his chair, and tossed them over to Dean. “The important thing is that you’re doing something you love, something you’re passionate about, and something you can be proud of.” His lips curled into a smirk. “And I think you’ve seen Tanner, Connor, and even me screw up enough to know we aren’t perfect. We can make a mess of our lives just as fast as anyone else.”
Wyatt went to the base of the stairs and paused for a minute. “And you need to learn something I had to admit long ago.”
Dean fluffed the pillow and turned to stretch out on the sofa. “What’s that?”
“Gigi is always right. Jillian loves you, you just need to pull your head out of your ass long enough to tell her how you feel.”
Dean spent most of the night tossing, turning, staring at the ceiling, and replaying his conversation with Wyatt. Some of the long held feelings that hung like a dark cloud over him dissipated and a bright ray of hope shone through.
Maybe he could be the man Jillian deserved.
***
Jillian
Present Day
She hadn’t realized just how quickly she’d gotten used to Dean’s presence beside her every night in bed until it was missing. Her heart ached with the knowledge he was hurting and her temper flared slightly at his utter stupidity in not talking to her.
Although that was a thought that damned her as much as it did him. Asking him to be the one to marry her to aid in yet another quest to be someone’s saving force—although the fact it was her family, people she never expected to need her, was still a concept she found hard to grasp—was a complete no brainer. But also one of the stupidest moves of her life.
The inward groan worked its way up the back of her throat and escaped her mouth as she shoved all the supplies in Dean’s car. She pressed her lips together tightly and huffed. As much as she loved the speed and responsiveness of the sports car, they’d really need to discuss having something slightly more practical than that and a motorcycle on hand.
Her heart skipped three beats. That is…if he didn’t run away at even the suggestion of making their marriage a real one.
She glanced over the contents filling the front and backseats before getting inside and slowly backing out of the garage.
Whatever his answer, she would be okay. She repeated the mantra to herself over and over on the short drive, grateful for how close Dean’s apartment was to his parents’ home, Wyatt’s ranch, and, just a little further away, Tanner’s house.
A tidal wave of emotion crashed over her, unexpected tears burning the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have a shadow of a doubt that she loved Dean, but it was so much more. It was his parents, his brothers…he came attached to a packaged family that filled every vacant hole left by her less than involved father and cold, distant mother. It wasn’t at all surprising that he stayed nearby. They were a tight-knit clan and welcomed her into their family quickly and completely so many years ago.
She swiped beneath her lower lids. The fear of losing them as well as Dean was one of the driving factors to ignoring and denying her true feelings for him for so long.
Her stomach knotted impossibly tighter as she threw the car into park and pulled the container and bags from the backseat. Although her friendship with Dean was something she valued more than she could ever describe, telling him the truth, admitting her love, it meant that she was putting more than just that relationship on the line. She was risking losing his entire family.
She smoothed out the material in front of her and sighed. It was a chance she had to take. She laid a hand on her churning gut, surveying the scene she’d created.
A slightly hysterical, certainly stress-induced, giggle bubbled up. She had no idea how her father could have gambled so much to send their wealthy family into financial jeopardy. This one singular risk was enough to send her into an anxiety attack.
Jillian turned away with a sigh, pinning far more hope on one surprise date with her husband than she probably should. She climbed back in the car and headed to the main road, taking a left. She rolled the window down and let the warm late spring air work a little stress-relieving magic.
The archway over the drive that led to Wyatt’s ranch came into view and the swarm of butterflies that had frantically been beating their wings in her abdomen multiplied and spread. A brief wave of nausea washed over her.
She parked the car ne
ar the barn and climbed out, an immediate grin spreading across her face as Wyatt came into view. “Hey there, cowpoke, any idea where I can find my husband?”
Wyatt chuckled and wrapped her in a firm hug. “He and Mat are just finishing a group session over there.” He nodded to one of the farther buildings. “Then they will have a break for lunch.”
Jillian drew her brows together. She wasn’t certain if it were what he said or her near complete lack of sleep combined with nerves that made his words come out a jumbled mess she couldn’t decipher. “Group session?”
Wyatt’s lips curved up in a small, knowing smile. He held up a finger and jogged the few feet to the barn, returning with a brochure. “It may have taken him a while, but when Dean figured out what to do with his life, he went after it with everything he had and pulled Mat and myself into it.” He narrowed his gaze into a mock glare. “If you tell him I said this, I’ll deny it until I take my last breath, but I am so damn proud of him.”
Somewhere in the distance someone called out Wyatt’s name. He lifted a hand in recognition then turned back to Jillian and gave another brief embrace. “He’s going to be happy to see you,” he whispered in her ear before releasing her and heading in the direction of the voice.
She turned the glossy paper in her hand and then opened it. As the words registered she gasped, then put her fingers over her mouth in a vain attempt to stem the threatening tears.
Recovered Hope Equine Rehabilitation
Our unique program offers not only addiction rehabilitation and recovery services, but we integrate equine therapy with traditional counseling to give our clients a brighter hope and deeper level of empathetic care than standard rehabilitation clinics.
Two wet trails made their way down her cheeks, falling on the brochure she clutched tighter in her hand. Pride was an understatement. Her chest threatened to explode with the overwhelming flood of emotions. Dean had not only managed to find a path in life he loved, but he was changing the world around him with his work.
Voices carried across the yard from the building where Wyatt had told her Dean and Mat were holding the group session. Despite the distance, she caught his eye and lifted one hand, curling her fingers in a small, silent greeting.
He gave one of the men a pat on the back and then jogged over to her. “Hey.”
She smiled up at him, barely restraining her arms from pulling him to her and her lips from devouring his. “Can you get away for a few minutes?”
Dean flicked his wrist and looked at his watch. When his eyes dropped he caught the paper she still held firmly in her grasp. He stared at her in silence for several moments as her heart thundered behind her breastbone. “Yeah, the group will be working with the ranch hands after lunch and our final session of the day isn’t until four.”
Jillian laced the fingers of her free hand through his and tugged him toward the car. “Perfect, Sparky, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dean
Present Day
Dean’s suspicions hitched higher when Jillian stopped them just as they reached his car, laying a hand on his chest.
“Oh, wait,” she tapped a digit on his sternum, “you’re missing something.”
He lifted a brow. “Like all the blanks you need to fill in for me?”
She grinned up at him as she opened the car door and fished something out of the console. “When have I ever made anything that easy for you?” Jillian held up a sleeping mask between her index and middle fingers.
Dean pulled the piece of material from her. “Is this for the firing squad I definitely deserve?”
Jillian tipped her head back and laughed, soft ginger locks falling over her shoulder. “Haven’t I forced you to watch enough chick flicks for you to know that all good things start with a blindfold?”
When she reached to take the mask from him, he moved to grasp her hand in his, pulling slightly so they were only a breath apart. “I’m serious. That was an asshole move last night. I should’ve talked to you, should’ve explained. I—”
She rested the tips of her fingers on his lips, silencing his words and stealing the oxygen from his lungs. The velvety softness of every inch of her skin should have been criminal.
“Listen, Sparky, you’re under some delusion I haven’t been paying attention to you for the past twenty years. Like I don’t know your mood swings and your behaviors better than you do.” She dropped her head and a small smile curled her lips. “But I am getting way ahead of myself. Shut up and put your mask on like a good little boy.” She gave him two small pats on the cheek and skipped around the front of the car, climbing in the driver’s side.
Far more obedient than normal, Dean slid into the passenger’s seat, pulled his door closed, and put the makeshift blindfold in place. “All right, lead me to my demise.”
Silence and a quick squeeze on his thigh was the only response. Damn it. The woman had no idea she already was responsible for his complete and utter destruction. Especially if she walked away at the end.
He ground his molars together as the car jostled him around, clearly no longer on a paved road. He had to tell her he loved her. The thought had played through his mind on repeat as the dark inky sky of the night bled through into the early morning rays with him still awake and staring holes through the ceiling and out the large front window of Wyatt’s house.
Dean took a deep, calming breath as the car pulled to a stop and Jillian’s door opened and slammed to his left. Her soft, warm fingers curled around his hand and she pulled him out of the car and to his feet.
She stopped after a few feet, but never released her grip on him. “I missed you last night.”
Her soft, whispered words landed directly in the center of his chest.
He itched to take the blindfold off, his eyes greedy to devour her, but he stood still, his thumb stroking across her knuckles. “I missed you too, Jillybean.” It was the truth, but it only scratched the surface. “But I’ve missed you for more days than I can even attempt to count.”
Finally, finally, she pulled the material free and he blinked against the noonday sun, overly bright after being in the darkness for even a few moments. The light glinted off her hair, highlighting the different shades of red and few strands of blonde and somehow managing to make her look even more stunning, a feat he once thought impossible.
Damn it all to hell, he was pretty certain he was falling farther in love with her by the day.
Just as he opened his mouth to answer, she held up a hand, palm facing him. “We need to talk.” She waved her arm over to Fredrock where she’d set up a blanket covered with food and wine. “And I was trying to avoid a deep, meaningful discussion when I was both sleep deprived and hangry, so we might need to eat first.”
Excitement and nerves swirled together, his gut twisting into knots, making even the thought of eating a total impossibility. Every cell in his body was pleading to hold her, but he dutifully sat down on the swatch of material instead as she piled a plate high for him and then a higher one for herself as she took the spot across from him.
Chocolate covered strawberries and small squares of brownie accompanied chocolate chip cookies and truffles. “Got a theme running here?”
“It’s a comfort food. Don’t judge me.” She popped one of the cookies in her mouth and glared at him.
Dean took a bite of a strawberry, not even registering the taste as he chewed and swallowed. “What do you need to talk about?”
She pulled her lips inward and bit down on them. “You need to talk and I need to listen.” She angled her legs and tucked them beneath her. “I want you to tell me what you do at the ranch and then I want you to tell me why it’s taken this long for you to share that with your best friend.”
He shook his head and looked across the water glittering in the noonday sun. One of the few times in his life he’d planned something with infinite detail and…she already knew. He’d plotted and imagined then reimagined exactly how
he’d share the ins and outs of his program with her at the same time he would tell her he loved her, because the two went so perfectly hand-in-hand. But he’d seen the brochure in her hand that outlined exactly how Recovered Hope operated.
“You read all the highlights.”
Jillian set down her plate and firmly clasped his free hand in both of hers. “I have waited for years for this moment. Do you honestly think I never knew how you felt? That I never noticed how every single cell in your body changed anytime anyone asked what you planned to go to college for or what you were going to do with your life?”
Shock drew his gaze up to meet hers from where it had been studying the threads in the material beneath them. “I never told you.”
She snorted softly. “You never had to.” She drew their joined hands into her lap. “Now, tell me about your program, which I definitely haven’t memorized every detail of from the brochure.”
Grow a set, he silently chastised as he took a deep breath. “Actually, there is one really important detail that isn’t in there.”
Jillian wiggled her hind end so she scooted closer to him. Excitement sparkled in her emerald eyes, nearly stealing his ability to focus. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “Yeah. See, I have this best friend who is sometimes an annoying pain in the ass,” he winked at her narrowed glare, “but also is the most passionate and selfless human I’ve ever met. She was the inspiration for me to find something bigger than myself to work toward.”
Dean set his food down on the blanket to his left and cupped her cheek. He lowered his voice to being just above a whisper. “Somehow along the way to finding my purpose in life I wound up falling in love with her.”
Her mouth fell open and they sat for countless moments with only the buzzing of the dragonflies and bees to break the silence.
Meant to be More (Meant to Be Series Book 4) Page 20
