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A moment later, Dean stepped into view. He was wet from the rain and clutching a large bouquet of red roses.
She blinked. Roses? Really? He had a lot of nerve showing up here with roses considering what happened before.
As if reading her mind, he offered a sheepish grin and held up the bouquet. “I promise I won’t try to take these back.”
“Good to know.” Good grief, this was sticky. What else was she supposed to say?
He gave her a tentative smile. “How’s the patient?”
“Dean ... what are you doing here? On a night like this?”
“I hadn’t heard from you. I just wanted to check in to make sure you were okay. When I left the house, I didn’t realize it was going to storm like this.”
Well, that made at least some sense. Still, his timing couldn’t have been worse. She glanced at Brock, who was standing off to Dean's side with his arms folded across his chest, jaw razor sharp. Jules didn’t need to be a mind reader to know exactly what Brock was thinking. He radiated alpha-male intensity. And right now, he was two shakes away from throwing Dean right back out into the rain.
Poor Dean couldn’t even begin to measure up to Brock when it came to masculinity. He looked like an overgrown frat boy who was a little soft around the edges. She’d never thought Dean to be a weakling. Rather, he was just a normal guy. However, compared to Brock, he looked paltry. She could tell from Dean’s body language that he was intimidated by Brock.
Dean’s gaze darted to Brock and then back to her. “So, uh ... who’s he?”
“My cousin,” Jules answered smoothly.
Dean visibly relaxed. “Oh, cousin. That’s great.” He turned to Brock with a congenial smile and offered his hand. “So nice to meet you.”
Brock let Dean’s hand hang awkwardly for a moment before reaching his out to shake. The interaction was brief and intense. Dean winced like Brock was squeezing his hand too tightly. Jules had no doubt that he was. It was a power play on Brock’s part.
After the handshake, Dean shifted his feet like he wasn’t sure what to do next.
A pang of sympathy went through Jules. As awkward as this was, she couldn’t just send Dean back out into the storm. At least it had stopped hailing.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” she offered.
As if worried she might take back her suggestion, he quickly moved toward the chair Brock had just vacated and sat down.
Jules caught Brock’s eye and gestured toward the bouquet. “Would you mind putting those in some water... cuz?” Her voice hung on the wordcuzjust long enough to make a point. Brock’s expression tightened. He all but snatched the flowers out of Dean’s hand. “Will do,” he said curtly and then strode out of the room.
Jules bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Brock was pretending to be her cousin, but he had possessive bodyguard written all over him.
Dean shifted again in his seat. “I just wanted to check on you.” His voice was low and ponderous. “I know you’ve had a rough time.” Concern touched his features, along with a longing that made her skin crawl.
“I’m surviving. I’ll be fine,” she added with a polite smile.
A few moments later, Brock returned. When he saw Dean sitting in his chair, a deep crease formed between his brows. Jules expected him to take the open seat across the room. Instead, he came over and sat beside her on the couch—right next to her—and casually moved her crutches out of the way.
She gave him a questioning look, which he ignored. Then he had the nerve to slide his arm back behind where she was sitting, letting it rest on the couch. His nearness was both intoxicating and infuriating.
Brock turned his attention to Dean, his tone deceptively casual. “So, Dean… you got a last name?”
Dean blinked. “Uh, yeah. Powell.”
“Powell,” Brock echoed. “And you said you’re a friend of Jules’s?”
Dean’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah. Something like that.” He glanced at Jules as he added, “We used to date.”
Jules winced inwardly.Here we go.
Brock didn’t respond right away. The silence was heavy enough to cut. Jules didn’t have to look at him to feel the shift in his energy, as turbulent as the storm breaking loose outside.
“We dated a few months ago,” she explained, hoping to diffuse the situation. “It was before ... everything.”