Meant to be More (Meant to Be Series Book 4) Read online

  “I like parties. My last birthday Mama got a piñata,” he puffed up his chest as much as he could, “and I broke it open on my second try.”

  She twisted her lips to the side and dropped her gaze to her lap, curling one of the many layers of her skirts around her fingers. “I’ve never had a piñata.” Her head fell forward more. “Or a real birthday party.”

  Dean bumped into the rock behind him as he took a step back in shock. “Never?” He frowned at her. “Never, ever? With a big house like that you could have insane birthday parties with a hundred people if you wanted. Shoot, maybe a thousand.”

  Jillian peeped up at him, the green eyes he thought were so pretty when he first saw her now holding a tinge of sadness. “Mother and Daddy take me out to a proper restaurant for my birthday every year. Daddy gets lamb and Mother gets veal.”

  “What do you get?” He angled his leg and turned to face her, the looming threat of his brother discovering what he thought was the best hiding spot he’d ever found. “It’s your birthday, you oughtta get something special like triple chocolate cake.”

  She shrugged slightly. “For dinner I get spaghetti, but with alfredo sauce because Mother worries that red sauce will be too messy.” She turned her head slightly and the early evening summer sun glinted off the sparkling stones in her ears. “And for a present I usually get jewelry like these diamond earrings.”

  Girls were weird. Dean had known that ever since kindergarten when Shelly Davis chased him around the playground screaming that she wanted him to kiss her. Just plain weird. But even still he couldn’t imagine anyone, boy or girl, to be happy with a boring birthday like that. “Well, do ya at least get some cool toys?”

  “I have special dolls that I keep in my room, but I have to be very careful with them. They are porcelain and very expensive.”

  Even though he could see the place Jillian called home in the distance, he was certain she lived in a whole other world. Maybe his parents had built their new family home on some alien landing pad. He’d have to tell Connor. That would be the best part of moving.

  A man’s voice called out in the distance and Jillian hopped to her feet and hastily brushed off her skirt. “That’s our butler, I better go.” She dipped slightly in a way that Dean had only seen on the princess movies his mother was obsessed with. “It was very nice to meet you, Dean Carlisle.”

  Just more proof that all girls are weird. Even his mom.

  He got to his feet, then closed his eyes and groaned when footsteps thudded in the distance and Connor began crowing his delight at “finding” his brother…which was clearly not true. “Nice meetin’ you too.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “You’re pretty nice, even for being ‘new money.’”

  With that she took off and Dean was left scratching his head. Definitely an alien landing pad. The girl spoke in some crazy language he’d never heard before. As she took off toward the man lumbering across the yard, Dean turned and walked back to where his father and older brothers stood.

  “Daddy, what’s new money?”

  ***

  Jillian

  Nineteen Years Ago

  Jillian slid her hand into the older man’s, his firm grip both comforting and slightly annoying. “It took a lot longer for her to notice this time.” She couldn’t help but skip as they traveled back to her house. Certainly not from happiness at returning to the exhausting and boring luncheon her mother was hosting, but from the boy she just met.

  He was nice and had a funny smile.

  The gray-haired man at her side turned his head toward her, his lips twitching. “You know you shouldn’t run away from your mother’s party.”

  “Henry, what time is it?”

  He turned his opposite wrist and glanced at the silver banded watch. “It’s nearly five.”

  Jillian nodded and slowed her skip to a walk as they crossed from the thick grass to the concrete walk through the expansive, perfectly manicured garden. “Henry, I left almost two hours ago. She didn’t notice I was gone for two hours.”

  The threatening smile disappeared from his face and his lips turned down. “Your mother is very busy, Jillian.”

  Even at her young age, she knew it wasn’t the complete truth. There wasn’t a question that her mother held a constant list of tasks that needed to be done and events like today meant that socializing was on that to-do list as a high priority. But even on the rare time that Helena Monroe didn’t have an auxiliary meeting, or a fundraiser for the children’s hospital, Jillian knew that she didn’t register on her radar.

  That is, not until she needed to show her off in a frilly, fancy gown with expertly styled hair that made her look more like the nearly untouchable dolls lining her bedroom curio than a seven-year-old girl.

  Jillian tugged at the older man’s hand as they closed in on the door and Henry turned, dropping to a knee in front of her on his pristinely ironed black dress pants, a formal uniform her mother insisted upon for the events Helena threw under the guise of raising money for a very worthy cause, but one where the true emphasis was on networking and social climbing.

  “What do you need, Miss Jillian?”

  A familiar list unrolled in her mind, now slightly altered to include playing with Dean every day at the very top. Instead of voicing any of those items, she curled the list back up and tucked it into the recesses of her brain. She released his hand and turned to one side and then the other. “Did I get all the dust off my dress, Henry?”

  He stood and smiled, offering a curt nod. “Yes, Miss Jillian. You look like a princess as always.” He offered the crook of his arm and Jillian dutifully slipped her small hand inside as he led her through the doors.

  Helena Monroe stood a few feet away, laughing the laugh that Jillian had caught her mother practicing in an effort to make it sound real. Her flawlessly styled auburn hair, nearly an identical shade as Jillian’s, cascaded down in waterfall curls against her bare skin in the backless emerald gown.

  At least that’s what the stylist had said when he declared Helena ready for the party. Jillian wasn’t sure she understood it all. How can hair look like water?

  A small wave of relief washed over Jillian just before another arrow of hurt pricked her little heart. Her absence had been briefly noticed by her mother, but certainly hadn’t caused any concern. And her father was most likely holed up in his office with a handful of other men smoking stinky cigars and playing some game with cards he’d once declared was not a game for children when she’d asked to join.

  Henry had been dispatched to handle it. Problem solved.

  Unshed tears burned at the corners of her eyes and Jillian quickly blinked them away, an art form she’d mastered before she even begun Kindergarten. She lifted one shoulder and offered Henry a small smile before crossing the room to take up her expected residence on the hard, uncomfortable settee.

  She kept her mind busy with fantastical stories of everything from heroes on horses to fearsome dragons, tamed by unlikely princesses. The time ticked by much faster as she weaved the stories in her head, lost in a wonderland while the party wound down around her.

  Her mother appeared in front of her with one hand out. “Come, Jillian, it’s time to say goodbye to our guests.”

  Jillian hopped to her feet and obediently took the older woman’s hand. They stood at the door with her father flanking her other side. One by one the people who had attended the charity event, the same ones who were at every staid, boring party her mother threw, departed with light hugs and air kisses and occasional pats on Jillian’s head.

  When the door closed on the final departure, Helena laid a hand on her hip and turned to Jillian. “Where did you disappear to this time?”

  She hesitated a brief moment before responding. “I met the new neighbors, Mother. Well, one of them. There were a lot of boys.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes and tossed the few locks of hair that had fallen over her shoulder. “That was…congenial of you, darling.”


  Jillian blinked several times, wondering what congeni-whatever was, but bit her tongue rather than ask. “Thank you, Mother.” With that she pulled on her father’s arm and lifted to her tippy-toes to peck him on the cheek. “I’m going to go get ready for bed now.”

  She raced up the stairs once she was out of her parents’ line of sight. She tapped on the door right next to her bedroom. When her nanny opened, Jillian bounced on the balls of her feet. “Frieda, can I please have a bath with extra bubbles?”

  The older woman smiled, cracking the lines etching her weathered face. “Of course, little princess. Run and get your pajamas and I’ll have so many bubbles waiting for you that you’ll need to swim through them.”

  Jillian lost herself in the long minutes she spent playing in the garden tub, blowing bubbles into the air, and splashing the rapidly cooling water. Finally the chill caused her to shiver and she grabbed the fluffy white towel Frieda had left behind, stepping over the ceramic side and rubbing herself mostly dry before pulling on her underwear and thin pajamas.

  As always Frieda was waiting in the chair beside Jillian’s bed with their latest book sitting in her lap. Jillian buried herself under the covers, holding the fluffy bunny Henry and Frieda had gifted her with at her last birthday—the only real toy she’d ever received. Her eyes drifted closed as Frieda described the misadventures of a very naughty rabbit and his siblings.

  Chapter Three

  Dean

  Present Day

  The soft snore from the seat beside him pulled Dean’s focus from the road to the woman slumbering next to him. A grin spread across his face, accompanied by a firm squeeze of his heart. How was it possible that he’d never been able to see that the girl who had been the one constant in his life was this beautiful?

  And had somehow managed to make him fall in love when he absolutely wasn’t paying attention. A small detail he’d only just realized and plotted to confess. A million scenarios had played out in his mind, but he wanted it to be perfect, and perfect took a little time.

  He turned down the well-worn path leading to the lake that sat on the border between his family’s property and hers. The place they met nearly twenty years ago. The place that was the spot of more than one soul-connecting conversation. Their sanctuary. Their secret place.

  The corner of his mouth kicked up one notch higher as the large, flat rock that sat at the edge of the water came into view. Seven-year-old Jillian had dubbed it Fredrock and he’d never thought to question her once on why. Not then and sure as hell not now.

  His fingertips itched to reach out and brush the lock of auburn hair back from her face. Once again, as it had so often over the past several weeks following the revelation that he was in love with his best friend, his stomach clenched as the one remaining logical brain cell reminded him of the risk he would be taking.

  Aside from Connor, and maybe even a little more than his closest brother, Jillian was Dean’s confidante. His secret keeper. The one person who managed to still believe in him when he was trying to find his place in the world. And…in his family.

  Dean threw the truck into park and propped an elbow on the doorframe, stroking the two days’ worth of growth along his jawline. Tanner was born with one foot in the boardroom and practically thrived with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Wyatt knew what he wanted to do with his life since he was in kindergarten and he’d worked and sacrificed to make it a reality, all without taking off the damn hat Dean planned to steal and burn one day. And Connor, next to the youngest of the four, but the voice of reason and the peacemaker since childhood, had taken his natural artistic flair and turned it into a brilliant career designing homes and offices.

  Hell, even Jillian had known since grade school that she wanted to live a life that positively impacted others. She’d had a passion and a determination that Dean once thought he’d never needed and certainly would never find for himself.

  It had taken far longer, and included far more failures, for Dean to finally recognize his purpose. The only regret he still held was that Jillian hadn’t been there when the final piece of the puzzle slid into place. She’d been his biggest cheerleader while delivering painful levels of honesty that still echoed in his mind. And the example she’d set for him had been a massive driving force to the career he’d forged with his cousin Mat and a healthy amount of trust from Wyatt.

  A major part in his confession of love would be detailing exactly how she’d impacted the path his life eventually took. So as much as it killed him, he hid the details of his work and just let her believe he helped Wyatt on the ranch.

  Yeah, this was going to take a long time to plan.

  He couldn’t wait to take her to Wyatt’s ranch and show her what her influence and encouragement had created.

  He turned his head and squinted over at her still sleeping form. All of that would happen right after he got a little clarification on that whole marriage thing.

  His hand hung in midair just before landing on her shoulder to gently shake her awake. Never before had touching Jillian caused a second thought, but the feel of her in his arms at the airport, an act now laced with unspoken affection far deeper than they’d ever had, had Dean steeling himself against the tidal wave of emotion he now knew she could create.

  Jillian stirred slightly, rotating her head, and blinking slowly several times before finally fully opening green eyes that added an extra beat to his heart rate. “Mmm, did I fall asleep?”

  Her husky tone widened the smile on his face. Dean chuckled and shook his head. “Naw, Jillybean, you were just silently solving the climate issues and it required a lot of concentration.”

  “How have I possibly managed to crisscross the globe without your uncanny insight guiding me, Sparky?” Her responding sleepy grin teased his rapidly fraying nerves.

  If he could find a glimmer of light in the darkness and sometimes outright stupid actions of his brothers that resulted in Dean being roped into helping with their sometimes outlandish schemes to win back the relationships once in jeopardy, it was that he’d learned a thing or two. But having Jillian back in the flesh, doing all the things she’d always done, things he now saw through a very different filter, was testing his every resolve to at least attempt romance.

  He might not be able to offer a candlelight evening at the base of a waterfall or rent out an art gallery and create a beautiful painting, but he sure as hell could wait until Jillian somewhat recovered from more than twenty-six hours of traveling before making such a lofty declaration. Or at the very least had a shower.

  And possibly clarify what the hell the completely unemotional, unexpected airport proposal was all about.

  He hopped out of the cab and rounded the front of the truck, pulling the passenger door open and offering Jillian a handout. She tightened her grip and practically drug him with her to the large rock that played a leading role throughout their friendship.

  She didn’t release her grip until they sat side by side, Jillian on the left and Dean on the right, exactly as they had a million times before. A dazzling smile spread across her face and Dean wondered how he’d never found it irresistibly beautiful before.

  And once again he mentally kicked his own ass for being so damn blind.

  “No matter where I go, I think this will always be my favorite place in the world.” She breathed out the words with a reverence he completely understood.

  Before his mouth ran in a direction he couldn’t control, he lifted his foot onto the rock in front of where he sat and rested an elbow on his knee. “I get that I’m a Grade A specimen, but I gotta know where’s this whole marriage thing coming from?”

  She tilted her head back and a waterfall of auburn locks flowed over her shoulder and she groaned. “This is going to be a long story.”

  He shot her a wink and grinned broadly. “Lucky for you, you’ve got me all day.”

  ***

  Jillian

  Present Day

  Keeping secrets from Dean
was a foreign concept, but the shame of the truth was nearly suffocating and something she wasn’t certain she could share…even with him. Her gut created a new knot to add to the collection that had formed over the past two weeks.

  “The simple answer is money.” A portion of the truth tumbled from her lips and she barely restrained the desire to physically put a hand to her mouth and halt the flow of more words. Like the entire, ugly reality.

  Disbelief settled across his face a moment before he erupted into a deep baritone laugh. “Come on, Jillybean, be serious.”

  She slid off the large stone and held up a hand toward him. “Just wait right there.”

  The short jog from where Dean still sat to the truck wasn’t nearly long enough to silence the voices in her head screaming and pleading for her to trust the bond they had and disclose the truth.

  Jillian closed her eyes and took a deep breath before digging through her carry-on bag for the large manila envelope she’d worn down over the past few weeks pulling the papers out and then returning them to the safety of the envelope over and over. She’d meticulously read every line, every word of the document, certain she’d find some loophole buried deep inside. Hours of reading and rereading resulted in the same conclusion: this was her last option.

  She clutched the envelope to her chest and returned to him at a much slower pace. She twisted her mouth to the side as she resumed her seat beside Dean. Without the explanation, in nearly every gory, embarrassing detail that he deserved, she dropped the papers in his lap.

  He looked over at her, cocking his head to one side, brows deeply knitted together. Dean opened his mouth, but before the first word could come out, she held up a hand.