Resentment soured Dean’s expression. “Understood,” he said curtly. His voice turned soft and imploring as he spoke to Jules. “I guess I’ll see you next Friday at the party.”
“Sounds good,” she said reflexively.
“The doorbell rang.
“Got it,” Nikki chimed as she hurried out of the room.
A second later, Luke’s voice boomed through the foyer. “Long time no see.”
“You again,” Nikki said in exasperation. “Stalker Boy can’t stay away.”
“Combat Barbie,” Luke drawled. “You clean up nice.”
Nikki reentered the room with Luke in tow.
Luke’s eyes landed on Dean. “Hey there.”
“Hey.” Dean rose to his feet.
Luke crossed over to him and extended his hand. “Luke Ellis. Pleasure.”
“Dean Powell,” he replied as the two shook hands.
“So, are you a friend of Jules?” A taunting grin curled Luke’s lips. “Or a friend of Combat Barbie?”
Dean blinked. “Combat Barbie?”
“Oh, shut up,” Nikki spoke to Brock. “Your brother’s a jerk.”
Dean‘s eyes widened. “Wait—he’s your cousin too?”
“Yes.” Jules forced a smile. “Both of them are. It’s a full house.”
“You mean all three of them.” Dean looked at Nikki. “At the wedding, Nikki said she was your cousin too.”
“I am,” Nikki chimed. “Different side of the family.” She cut her eyes at Luke. “Luckily.”
Surprise flicked over Dean’s face. “So … three cousins?”
“Yep.” Jules smiled brightly. “We’re just one big happy family.”
Dean let out a weak laugh. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll go so you guys can order your pizza. “Jules, it was good to see you. I’m so glad you’re recovering.” Then, to Brock, he added stiffly, “Nice to meet you,” but his expression spoke otherwise.
“Likewise,” Brock said with zero warmth.
Dean turned to Luke. “Nice to meet you too,” he said with a touch more genuineness.
Luke nodded. “Maybe we’ll see you around.”
“You will,” Dean promised. “At Jules’s party next Friday.”
Surprise flicked over Luke’s face, but it only took him a second to recover. “Alrighty, then.”
Jules thought—hoped—that Dean would leave on that note. Instead, he came over and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “You look good,” he uttered, holding her gaze.
Heat torched her face. She didn’t have to look at Brock to know that he was fuming. Oh, well. It wasn’t as if he had a claim on her. He’d just have to get over it.
With that, Dean turned to leave. He got almost to the foyer and then stopped. “Maybe I’ll call you tomorrow.”