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Part of her melted when he put his arm around her. She blinked up at him, startled by the sincerity in his warm eyes. Yes, he was a friend who’d do anything for her. His words once again touched her weary heart.
He rubbed his sandy hands on his shorts then lifted his hand to her face. “You’ve got tartar sauce on your...” He stopped talking as his thumb passed over her lips.
An overwhelming confusion rushed through Emilie. There was a fine line between friendship and more. Was he crossing it? Did she want him to?
When he backed off as if nothing happened, she shook her thoughts away. “I still can’t believe Mom’s gone. Sometimes I call her phone to tell her something and remember Dad had it disconnected. Or I’ll have an amazing performance and want to tell her, only to remember no one waits in the crowd for me anymore.” Not wanting him to see her face, she turned away and gathered the remaining trash.
He grabbed her hands. “That’s absolutely not true. You have me.”
No matter what kind of relationship they were in, she could rely on him. “Thanks, Dean, for everything. I don’t think I could function without you.” Tears gathered in her eyes, and she blinked them away.
Dean tapped his watch. “We should get to your dance studio. Have you gone yet? Classes should start in a few months, right?”
She looked out at the water. In that moment, there weren’t any expectations. No critical eyes judging her every move. No family drama. Starting next week, everything would change. If she wanted anything to work out in the fall with her dance studio, she had a laundry list of things to do. She stood up, ready to face whatever challenge came her way. “Yep, we should go.”
He took the trash in one hand and held out the other. “We gotta keep up appearances.”
Her heart skipped a beat, but she resisted the temptation to touch him. She couldn’t get attached to him, not if she wanted to leave. Unless it was necessary, she wasn’t going to do anything that sent her affection for him into overdrive.
She playfully slapped his hand away. “Whatever.” On the way back to the truck, they passed the outside diner again and thanked Mrs. Fran.
“Don’t forget to send us a wedding invitation,” she yelled to them, gaining the curiosity of a new crowd.
Emilie shook her head. It was only a matter of time before the whole town knew.
“I have to run a few errands when we get back to town,” Dean said once they hopped in. “I’ll drop you off at the studio and pick you up in an hour.”
Emilie nodded. An hour’s work was all she could handle anyway. Besides what could she do with no staff and no dance students?
6
Dean
After stopping at the studio and waiting until Emilie was safely inside, Dean drove to La Buffet, one of the only fancy restaurants in town. The one place he could always find Ava. She’d worked there since high school. He should probably keep his mouth shut, but he had to settle things with Ava and stop the oncoming train wreck.
The hostess wasn’t in place by the time he forced himself to go inside. Since he knew most of the staff, he avoided them and skirted the front entrance. He peeked over the tall wall that separated the guests eating from the guests waiting to be seated. As he expected, only a handful of older regulars were here, eating their meals before the dinner rush.
He glanced around the room, his search jerking to a stop when he spotted Ava Smith, the only person in high school who had literally made him feel like his clothes were full of spiders. And yet, she was the only girl he’d dated since high school. Thankfully, Emilie hadn’t caught on to that when they’d met at the restaurant a year ago. He’d do anything to take that mistake to his grave.
Ava faced a booth, her hands busy with folding napkins from a bin and laying them in a stack. Her black outfit was neatly pressed, and her long dark hair swept across her face as she worked. The sensation of spiders crawling up his back returned. But instead of bolting, he remained rooted in place.
She turned and met his gaze. “Look what the fish dragged in. I thought one of your guys said you were too busy to deliver to us.”
Dean flinched but maintained his smile. “Not here on business. I was hoping to talk to you. Hope I’m not disrupting anything.”
She gave him a wry smile while lifting the stack of napkins. “Not much to interrupt.”
Dean raised his eyebrows and took a seat across from her in the nearest booth. “Rumor says you’re engaged to Finn Walter.”
Her confidence wavered for only a second. “What do you want?”
So that was how this conversation would go. “The rumor mill will get to you soon enough, so I wanted you to know I’m also engaged.”
Her face remained impassive, yet she fumbled with the napkin in her hand before it dropped to the floor.
Dean picked up the napkin and threw it on the table. “I’m marrying Emilie.” The words felt so new and wonderful on his tongue.
Ava’s hands stilled, but her face broke into a grin. “My best friend, Emilie Carter? You’re kidding, right?”
