Page 27 of Accidental Husband

Jules shoots me a look of disgust. It's played up, but the roots are real. She likes Dean and Chloe just fine—she knows all my friends and everyone at the shop—so it must be the show of love.

Really, they don't have to be so obvious about having their shit together when it comes to relationships.

They know Jules just ended her engagement.

I clear my throat.

Chloe jumps backward and shoots us an apologetic look. Then it clicks. Her eyes light up. Her expression fills with sympathy. "Oh, I, uh… I'll be good, promise."

"I don't promise." Dean winks at me. Then at Jules. "But I'll make sure it's more dirty than sweet."

Chloe rises to her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear. He has to lean down to meet her. Which is adorable.

Maybe this is why women are into tall guys. The foot between them just works. She's still every bit the badass, but she looks especially pint-sized.

Dean motions to the minivan sitting in the driveway. It's a friend of a friend's, but it's still weird seeing him here. Like he's practicing for his future as a soccer dad.

Despite hisI don't give a fuckattitude, Dean would be a good dad. And Chloe would be a good mom. Tough, but fair. She never puts up with shit from her boyfriend slash boss.

Not that I'd ever tell either of them that.

I don't usually think about that stuff. My family has been nothing but bad news. The second I could, I got the fuck out of that house, and I've never looked back.

The last thing I want to do is fuck up some poor innocent kid.

Maybe if I had my head on straight, I'd consider it. But the odds of that are even lower than the odds of me falling in love.

Multiplying those together?

It's not gonna happen.

We put our suitcases in the trunk and climb into the van.

Wes and Quinn are in the middle seats. They're cozy. Happy.

"You look good, Juliette." He smiles.

Jules's brow knitswhat the fuck does that mean, but she doesn't mention it. "Thanks. It's been a while, Quinn." She nods hello and takes her seat. "Is school good?"

"Uh… I'm glad it's summer." Quinn presses her red lips into a smile. She's nervous, which is normal for her. And, well, it's hard to blame her.

A month ago, she asked Wes to pop her cherry. They've been working on her sexual education since. He insists it's casual, but that's total bullshit.

It's been four or five weeks now and they still haven't done the deed. He says he's savoring it, but, really, he wants the excuse to hang out with her.

It's sweet. Not like him. He's usually manwhore of the year.

Puts me to shame sometimes.

"Me too." Jules smiles back. "Though… I'm not sure Vegas in August is the best idea."

"Whose fault is that?" I take the seat on the far right. She's on the left. The middle seat is between us. Which is how we usually sit. But it feels weird. Loaded.

"Can I blame he who will not be named?" she asks.

"Fuck, you're Voldemorting him?" I ask.

"Yeah, I am." A laugh spills from her lips. "I can't believe you referred to a book."