Page 11 of The Desperate Warrior

“It’s okay to put yourself out there, honey. That’s the only way you’re gonna grow. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

She couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard that line. It was one of Dad’s mantras. “I know,” she said with a trace of impatience. The last thing she wanted right now was a lecture.

His perceptive eyes probed hers. “Is everything okay between you and Brock?”

She offered a wooden smile. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He studied her. “You tell me.”

Both of her parents knew that Brock was married before and had a son. Jules had told them that Brock dealt with some rough stuff during his service as a Navy SEAL. There was no way it could be all smooth sailing with those impediments. “We’re good,” she said firmly.

He settled back down. “Good.”

“Clayton,” Mom called, motioning to him with her hand. “We need to go.”

“See you at the homestead, honey.” Squeezing her arm, he trotted off in Mom’s direction.

Meanwhile, Jules tried to decide if she should approach Brock or let him come to her. She threw a covert glance in his direction and saw him talking to Fitz and Charli. Okay, she was being ridiculous. She and Brock were a couple, and she was a grownup—perfectly capable of making the first move. Dad had seen Brock watching her during the wedding ceremony. That was a good sign. Straightening her shoulders, she strode towards them, trying to ignore the persistent hammering of her heart against her ribs. She was intercepted by Dean, of all people. Gah! The guy just couldn’t get a clue.

“Hey,” he began with a jovial smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Hey, Dean.” She looked past him, anxious to get to Brock.

“You look fantastic.” He gave her a longing look.

Good grief, when was this guy going to buck up and move on? Were his puppy-dog eyes supposed to make her feel sorry for him? It wasn’t working. Dean had conveniently forgotten about his petty tantrum that night in her kitchen before he stormed out, leaving her to clean up the glass and water with an injured foot.

“You must be thrilled for your sister. Weddings are a big deal,” he said with deep meaning.

“Yeah, I’m thrilled.” She forced a smile. Several awkward beats passed. “Well, it was great to see you. I’d better skedaddle. There’s someone I need to speak with. If you’ll excuse me …”

His jaw tensed before he nodded. “Of course.”

She adopted a cheerful tone as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Enjoy the reception.”Just please stay far away from me.

“I will,” he said heartily.

As she moved past him, he caught hold of her arm.

“Jules?”

She stopped and turned back around. “Yes?”

He searched her face. “Save me a dance tonight?”

Her throat tightened. “Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She looked down, noting that he was still holding onto her arm.

As if reading her mind, he immediately released it. “I was hoping we could be friends,” he sulked.

“We can,” she responded automatically and then winced inwardly at the white lie. She wanted nothing more to do with Dean. “It’s just that I’m with someone. And he wouldn’t like me dancing with anyone else.”

Surprise streaked over his features. She could tell from the way his jaw was twitching that he was visibly shaken. “Uh, o—kay.” He gave her a remorseful smile. “I guess that’s that,” he said in a practical tone.

“Goodbye, Dean. I wish you well.” With that, she hurried away before he could say anything else.

Draping on a bright smile, she stepped up and greeted Brock with a warm, “Hey.” She was going to kiss him on the lips but stopped in her tracks when she saw his uncomfortable expression. Her heart nearly stopped as her fears bubbled to the surface, making her hot and then clammy cold.

“Hey,” he responded with a tight smile. “Good to see you again.”

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