Chapter Twenty-One
STANDING ON THE front porch of the inn the following Friday evening, Dean was as nervous as a jackrabbit in a field of wolves. He took several deep breaths, telling himself to calm down. He wasn’t thrilled that their first fancy dinner date would be spent with his father, but he was the only one of his brothers who would attend. Tonight was about supporting their family, fulfilling a duty. He planned to do that as quickly and as painlessly as possible, and then get out.
Usually he entered the inn without knocking, but he didn’t want to miss out on picking up Emery in proper date fashion. He knocked on the door and heard the sounds of female voices, the clickity-click of high heels on hardwood, and his sweet Emery’s laughter. The door opened, and he was rendered speechless at the beauty before him in a light pink strapless dress. Emery’s eyes were made up dark and alluring, her lips were painted with a sheer gloss, and her shiny hair spilled over her shoulders in gentle waves. His gaze drifted down her bare shoulders and over her gorgeous curves. He could practically feel the flare of her hips against his palms. And her long, tanned legs…
“Eyes up here, big guy.”
Desiree and Violet laughed.
He’d been so enamored, he hadn’t noticed them standing a few feet away by the sweeping staircase.
“I’m sorry, doll. You literally took my breath away.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze drifted down his body, and he felt a rush of heat. “You look utterly delicious, too.”
“Thank you.” He stepped forward, his hand circling her waist as her perfume sent his heart into another spiral.
She picked up his tie and ran her fingers down the length of it. “I can think of a few things we can do with this silk puppy after dinner.”
“If I can hold out that long.”
“Okay, that’s my exit.” Violet brushed past them. “You guys look gorgeous. Have fun. And if Daddy Warbucks gets out of line, just give me a call. I’m happy to show up and embarrass the heck out of him.”
“Violet!” Desiree gave her a nudge toward the door. “They don’t need to hear that. We’re going to think positive. Nothing bad will happen.”
“Hey, just offering to set the guy straight.” Violet waved and disappeared out the door.
Desiree turned to them with a tender smile. “Sorry, you guys. You both look amazing. Want me to take a picture?”
Dean glanced down at his tan trousers, navy sport coat, and light blue shirt. The sight of his dark-chocolate-colored tie jolted his brain into gear. “Yes, in a moment. Something is missing from your outfit.”
Emery looked down at her dress. “Missing? It’s not fancy enough?”
Rick came down the stairs and whistled at them.
Dean shot him an I’m-nervous-enough glance. “You look perfect,” he said to Emery, then lowered his voice and added, “Although I did ask for something that wasn’t hot.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Should I change? I don’t want to look inappropriate.”
“You not only look appropriate, but you look like a goddess. You could wear my sweatpants and you’d still make men drool.” He leaned in for a kiss. “And you taste like cherries.”
“Lip gloss.” She wrinkled her nose adorably. “I didn’t want to get lipstick all over you.”
“So thoughtful.” He kissed her again, earning another whistle from Rick. He withdrew a long black velvet box from his pocket and opened the top. “For our first fancy date.”
Emery and Desiree both gasped. Desiree peered around Emery at the dainty, three-tiered choker he’d had made for her.
“You don’t strike me as a diamond or pearls girl,” he said, “but if I’ve messed up—”
Emery pressed her lips to his, blinking repeatedly. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I’m not a diamond and pearls girl, but for you to know that…”
Rick put his arm around Desiree as she watched with a dreamy look in her eyes.
Dean took the choker from the case, and Emery lifted her hair, turning for him to put it on her.
“I know lots of things about you, but I have a feeling that just when I think I’ve discovered all your secrets, you’ll have a hundred more things for me to unveil.” He kissed the back of Emery’s neck.
He secured the hook on the thin brown leather choker first and then the clasp on the attached silver chains that connected in the front with a silver heart in the center of her neck, and just below, where the thinnest chain met a silver hoop, a beautiful quartz dangled.
Emery turned to face him, lightly touching the choker. “How does it look?” she asked.
The brown leather and delicate silver chains against her slender neck looked even sexier on her than he’d imagined they would. “You look spectacular, and the necklace makes you look even more beautiful.” He leaned closer and whispered, “And erotic.”
“Mm. I like that.” She framed his face between her soft, warm hands and gazed longingly into his eyes. “Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his. “I love it. Did you know the charm was quartz when you bought it?”
“What do you think?”
“I think if you did, then you’re an even more incredible boyfriend than I thought.”
“Quartz helps relieve stress and anxiety,” he said proudly. “I knew you were nervous about meeting my family. And I know how spiritual you are, even if you don’t talk about it. You once told me that yoga was a lifestyle, not a job. I want to be part of your life, which means I need to learn about your lifestyle. So, yes. I did know.”
“Mr. Masters, you do know how to impress a girl.”
“I only want to impress you.” He glanced over her outfit again, noticing that she was wearing the thick bangle where she’d hidden Splenda—always prepared—and strappy heels. “No hidden compartment for a phone in those. Do you want me to carry yours, or are there other secret compartments I should check out?”
She shook her head with a mischievous grin. “There’s nothing hidden in the secret places I want you to inspect, and I’m not taking my phone. I don’t want any outside distractions tonight. Just you, me, and a room full of highfalutin people who, thanks to you, I’ll be a little less nervous around.”
He withdrew his phone from his pocket and took a selfie of the two of them. Right before taking another picture, he turned and kissed her cheek, earning her melodic laughter, which led to several more pictures of them kissing. Rick and Desiree snagged Dean’s phone to take more appropriate pictures of them, and then Emery insisted that Dean take a selfie of the four of them huddled together. They were all grinning like fools, and he knew it would forever be one of his favorite pictures.
Forty minutes later they were still kissing and laughing as they entered one of the two Victorian-style mansions at the Ocean Edge Resort. Emery clung to Dean’s arm as they crossed the marble floor, following throngs of women in gorgeous dresses and men in designer suits toward the main ballroom.
“I’ve never been anywhere this luxurious,” she said in an excited, though hushed, tone. “I don’t even think we have mansions like this back home.”
“And you’re the most gorgeous woman here.” Dean felt like his skin was stretched too tight beneath his clothes. He didn’t enjoy these snooty dinners, but as they passed a sign directing attendees to the ballroom, his father’s name was noted as the speaker, and a sense of pride washed through him. He was proud of his father’s accomplishments, even if he didn’t agree with the way his father pushed him, or his elitist attitude.
Emery stopped outside the ballroom, breathing deeply. “How will I know your parents?” She realized she hadn’t seen any family photographs in his house.
“My father will be the one everyone’s kissing up to, and my mother…” He followed the distinct sound of high heels clicking on marble at a fast pace and saw his mother hurrying toward them. While Dean shared his mother’s honey-wheat hair, hers had turned mostly silver in the past few years, and it was Jett who’d ended up with her vibrant personality. Dean took after his father’s more reserved nature. “Is right here.”
“Baby!” His mother threw her arms around his neck. She looked beautiful in a dark blue dress, a string of pearls around her neck, and a smile as welcoming as the sun.
Emery mouthed, Baby? with an amused smile.
Dean couldn’t suppress his smile. There was something about being doted on by his mother that always made him want to go back in time, to the years before his father had taken over his grandfather’s medical practice and become a tool. Not for the first time, or the hundredth, he wondered why she put up with him. Granted, they never seemed to fight when he was around, and he’d seen her give his father looks that had, on occasion, kept his sharp comments at bay. Their whole relationship confused him, but he’d decided a long time ago, it wasn’t his place to worry about their life choices. So he did what he could to make sure Jett’s feelings didn’t make her life any worse.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t you look dashing,” his mother said, straightening his tie. “And you matched your tie to your gorgeous date’s beautiful necklace. Doesn’t that tell us something special?” She turned her attention to Emery, whose eyes sparkled like she’d already decided she liked his mother. “If you haven’t guessed, I’m Dean’s sugar mama.”
His mother laughed a little loud and throaty, the laugh he’d heard all his life. And it made him laugh, too.
“Mom, please.” Dean shook his head. “Emery, this is my mother, Sherry. Mom, this is Emery Andrews.”
“Emery…?” His mother hugged her. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. But your name is familiar.” Her eyes widened and she glanced at Dean. “Emery, from Virginia? The one you were chatting with over Easter?”
“Yes,” Emery said. “Sorry we stole Dean away to meet my brothers on FaceTime. They can be pretty demanding.”
“Oh, honey, are you kidding? I’ve never seen him smile so much.” She touched Dean’s cheek. “Until tonight. Sweetheart, why don’t you go say hello to your father.” She put her arm around Emery and said, “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get to know each other.”
Dean knew his mother was making an effort to shield Emery from his father, which meant his father must be in prime form tonight. He opened his mouth to say he’d rather go with them, but his mother said, “I promise I’ll bring her back,” and guided Emery away.
Emery glanced over her shoulder, smiling so brightly he knew she’d be just fine without him.
Dean followed them into the ballroom, which was decked out in shades of gold and accented with black and white. There were enough designer suits and diamonds in the place to open a store. He lifted a flute of champagne from a passing tray and watched Emery and his mother sipping the same. His mother held Emery’s arm like they were old friends, and knowing the two of them, they probably already felt like they were.
He took a long pull of his drink and scanned the crowd for his father. The familiar sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach hit at the same second his gaze landed on the man his mother had so wisely guided Emery away from.
He glanced across the room, where Emery and his mother were now talking with his ex, Diana. He gritted his teeth. He hadn’t thought about her being here. He should have warned Emery. Could tonight get any more awkward? Diana looked…well…like Diana. Prim and proper in a blue and white striped dress. Her dark hair was twisted on the top of her head in a complicated knot that had probably cost a fortune and taken several hours to get just right. She was a beautiful woman, and she’d make a different man a good wife, planning every minute of their lives to perfection, tossing out yes, honeys, laughing, and building up her man’s ego at every opportunity. She’d been groomed to be a doctor’s wife, which was probably why she and Dean were not well suited for each other.
As he watched Diana, he wondered how he’d ever let their relationship go on for so long. They were compatible friends at best. Dean had gone out with her at the request of his father, and she was eager to please, always available, and she had filled a gap in his life. Going out with her was easier than hanging out in bars trying to meet women, or hooking up with random tourists.
Emery said something that made the three of them laugh, and she touched Diana’s arm. Diana covered her mouth, her laughing eyes turned in his direction. Dean shifted his gaze to his father again, feeling as though he were caught between a lion and a spider web. His father looked regal in his dark pinstripe suit with a matching pocket square and tie. Dean didn’t have to look to know the buttons on his father’s shirt were mother-of-pearl, and his cuff links were twenty-four-karat gold with sapphires or yellow diamonds surrounded by enough high-quality diamonds to feed a family of four for a month.
Dean guzzled his drink and set the empty glass on a table. He brushed a hand down one of the three non-designer dress shirts he owned, trying to talk himself into walking over and saying hello. His father was speaking with his business partners, Carl Longhorn—Diana’s father—Prescott LaRue, and Tim Macalbee.
Four of the sharpest minds in medicine. His father’s voice trampled through his mind, and his gut twisted. He turned away, reminding himself they only needed to make an appearance. He searched the room for another glass of champagne and spotted Emery and his mother heading his way. Thankfully, without Diana. They were both smiling, and Emery wasn’t good at faking a thing. Maybe she hadn’t made the connection between him and Diana yet.
Emery looked graceful and somehow also fierce as their eyes connected.
He reached for her. “Everything okay, doll?”
His father’s cologne infiltrated his senses seconds before he felt his heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder and noticed the familiar straightening of his mother’s spine, the narrowing of her eyes, and the silent Behave yourself, Douglas she cast toward his father before being swept away by a group of women.
Emery’s gaze moved from him to his father, and her body stiffened. Dean looked at his father, whose eyes were filled with malevolence. He instinctively tightened his grip on Emery.
EMERY COULDN’T BREATHE as she stared into the cold eyes of Rose’s son and tried to make sense of his hand on Dean’s shoulder.
“Son,” the man said, shifting his eyes deliberately away from Emery and pinning them on Dean with an accusatory slant.
Shivers crawled up Emery’s spine. Son? Her mind scrambled back to her visit with Rose, and the pieces began falling into place like dirt filling a hole. And my eldest, the son you met. The angry one. He buried himself in work at the expense of his own family.
She gripped Dean’s side, remembering the weeks after they’d met, when he’d told her about how, years earlier, when he’d been drowning emotionally as a trauma nurse, his grandmother had convinced him to leave the medical field and follow his heart.
She tried to find some semblance of balance in her mind, tried to imagine Rose going against her own son’s wishes. The thing was, she could imagine that, but the realization sparked an unexpected softening inside her toward the man who was looking at her like he wanted to say something hateful.
“Dad,” Dean said stoically, shifting his body as if he were doing his best to form a barrier between his father and Emery. “This is my girlfriend, Emery Andrews.”
His father’s lips tipped up in a terse smile. “The yoga girl?”
Dean bristled. His eyes narrowed, and his chest expanded. Emery was still processing that Mr. Stick Up His Butt was Dean’s father. She bit back the verbal lashing she wanted to hurl at him, and when Dean opened his mouth to say something, Emery squeezed his hand and gave a barely discernible shake of her head. She knew Dean would stand up for her, but she didn’t want to be the cause of a scene.
“Yoga back-care specialist. Yes,” she said proudly, and extended her hand in greeting.
His father looked down at her hand so long she didn’t think he was going to shake it.
Dean’s glare told of his disapproval, and in the next second, his father lifted his drink in a feigned toast and his lips curved up in a wry smile as he shook her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emery.”
There wasn’t enough alcohol on the planet to ease this situation. Luckily, an announcement came over the loudspeaker for the guests to find their tables, and Dean swept her away from the Big Bad Wolf.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you anywhere near him,” he said as he guided her toward their table.
“I’m fine,” she said, although she was not fine. Hearing about his father was one thing, but experiencing him in person? She was barely holding her tongue, despite the initial softening she’d felt. The muscles in Dean’s jaw jumped repeatedly as he visually tracked his father up to the podium.
Dean had enough worries tonight. He didn’t need to be put in a position to stick up for her, or feel as though he was to blame for the way his father had treated her. She reached up and cupped his jaw, drawing his gaze back to hers. “I’m here for you, not for your father.”
“I still shouldn’t have exposed you to him.”
They took their seats, and Emery caught sight of his mother heading toward their table. “I didn’t realize Rose was your grandmother,” she said quietly. “She was my first client at LOCAL. Is she here?”
“My grandmother?” A smile lifted his lips. “She and my father don’t get along. She hasn’t attended these dinners for quite some time. But my aunt Patty is with her tonight. She took her out for a nice dinner.”
The tightening in her chest eased. She was glad Rose hadn’t witnessed what had just happened. “I love Rose, and her friends Magdeline and Arlin. I met your father the first time I went to see her, but of course I had no idea he was your father.” She explained what had transpired between them.
“I’m going to murder him,” Dean said between gritted teeth.
“No, you’re not. Rose said he wasn’t always like this, that he buried his emotions in work after your grandfather died. I kind of feel bad for him. Not enough to think the way he treated me, or the things he says to you, are okay but enough to make me hold my tongue. Besides, he’s your father, Dean, and you don’t need to add my big mouth to the list of trouble between you two.”
His father tapped the microphone, and a hush fell over the room. Tension rolled off Dean like the winter wind, cold and insistent, as his mother slid into the seat beside Emery and whispered, “Did my husband behave himself?”
“He was fine,” Emery lied, wondering why such a lovely woman would put up with a man like him. There was no sense in upsetting her. The evening would be over soon enough.
Dean’s father’s authoritative voice brought all eyes forward, as he thanked everyone for attending and talked proudly about his father, Douglas Masters Sr., and his father’s reasons for establishing the Pediatric Neurology Foundation. He went on to detail the strides that have taken place in the field and how proud he was to carry on in his father’s footsteps by having taken over his pediatric neurosurgery practice. He spoke eloquently, injecting humor amid the technical details of the collaborative center that was the heart of the foundation. As Emery listened to him describe how the foundation served pediatric patients through advocacy, education, research, and support initiatives, she understood just how important the foundation was, and in turn, how vital his father’s medical prowess had been for the industry.
It became clear that both the pride and irritation in Dean’s eyes were well earned, and the more his father spoke, the more she realized just how much pressure he was probably under. It didn’t make his actions or his attitude forgivable, but it gave her a little better understanding of the man behind them.
Emery reached over and squeezed Dean’s hand.
He draped an arm around her shoulder and scooted his chair closer. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered, making the ordeal with his father worth every uncomfortable second.
After his father’s speech and a round of applause that shook the ballroom, his father made his way toward their table, stopping at least a dozen times to shake the hands of appreciative people along the way. Emery watched him with interest. He was unassumingly charming, kissing the cheeks of women and patting the backs of men, as if they were all his closest friends. A stab of hurt slid through her. If he had greeted her with that smile, things would be very different right now.
When he arrived at the table and took his seat, the easygoing air he’d carried only seconds earlier disappeared with a weary exhalation.
It had to be exhausting carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Didn’t he realize he had a family who could help him find some relief and happiness amid the pressure? Something as easy to share as a smile like he gave the others would go a long way for Dean and probably Jett and Doug, too. If only she could convince him to allow her to show him how to relax. But it would be a cold day in Hades before that man reached out to a yoga girl.
His piercing blue eyes moved slowly around the table, lingering on Dean for so long, Emery found herself holding her breath.
Some sort of silent, stressful message passed between father and son before his father said, “Thank you both for attending tonight. It’s nice to see family here.”
Dean nodded curtly, his fingers curling around Emery’s shoulder.
Thankfully, dinner was served quickly, and they ate while carrying on strained conversation about nothing of importance. The only saving grace were the stories Dean’s mother shared of when he was young and how much he enjoyed the beach, the water, and helping his grandmother in the gardens. Emery had wanted to tell her about her sessions with Rose, but she feared it might elicit another nasty comment from his father.
“Dean was always very precocious,” Sherry explained. “While Jett couldn’t be bothered with slowing down enough to read a book and Doug was too busy reading everything he could get his hands on to want anyone else to read to him, Dean’s favorite bedtime stories were ones his father told about his patients. I remember Douglas coming home exhausted and Dean, as a young boy, pleading for one more story. He would tell Dean one story after another, until they both fell asleep right there in Dean’s twin bed.” She squeezed her husband’s arm, smiling warmly.
“I can’t imagine it,” Emery said before she could catch herself. “I mean, Dean wanting to hear so many stories.”
Dean and his father exchanged another glance she couldn’t read, but oh, how she could feel this one. It was markedly different from the tension that had been hovering around them like buzzards. This was warm, and it brought a smile to both of them, but those smiles disappeared just as quickly as they’d come, taking a piece of Emery’s heart with them.
“When the boys were teenagers, they’d drive me crazy, playing catch out back in the dark.” Sherry smiled at Dean’s father and said, “Remember when the boys would toss you a baseball mitt the minute you came in the door and bug you until you finally put down your work and threw the ball with them? Dean must have been twelve? Thirteen?”
His father wiped his mouth and set the linen napkin on the table. “That was a long time ago, when, like most young boys, Dean still saw me through starry eyes.”
Emery made a split-second decision to try her hardest to rise above the hurt she’d felt from his earlier dismissal and make the best of it. All she needed was common ground, and having worked in a physician’s office, she felt she had that.
“I enjoyed your speech,” she said to his father, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. “You mentioned several neurological disorders that I’ve had some experience dealing with. When I worked for the yoga back-care practice in Virginia, I worked with patients who suffered from many different types of ailments. With specialized yoga plans and meditation techniques, we saw physiological and psychological improvements in patients who suffered from several neurological diseases, like epilepsy, stroke, multiple sclerosis, even Alzheimer’s. I realize you’re personally not a fan of yoga, but does your practice work hand in hand with any yoga professionals as complementary therapy to your patients’ medical treatments?”
His gaze flicked between her and Dean. “That would be like putting a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. It might soothe the patient’s anxiety temporarily, but there is no replacement for modern medicine.”
“Obviously I’m not implying that you forgo medical treatment for your patients,” she said more forcefully than she meant to, but what the heck? Did he really believe medicine was the only answer to everything?
Dean pushed to his feet and took Emery’s hand. “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to dance with my date.” He lifted Emery to her feet and quickly guided her away from the table.
“Dean!” she whispered. “I was trying to make some progress with him.”
His arms circled her waist, and the moment his hard chest pressed against her, the tension in her body eased.
“You mean well, doll, but you won’t win. He’s a man of science. He relates to statistics, facts, and documented research.”
“There have been studies—”
Dean pressed his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and tenderly, and just when she tried to pull away for a breath, he deepened the kiss. She came away a little dizzy, and warm all over.
“He’s arrogant, sweetheart. You think you’re having a rational conversation, but in his mind he knows more than anyone in the entire room. You’re not going to get through to him, and you’ll only get frustrated by trying.”
She sighed. “I just wanted to find some common ground. I hate that I’m causing more trouble between you two. And even though I hate that he just dismisses everything I stand for, which is wrong on so many levels, I wasn’t going to be confrontational. I just feel like, as a doctor, he should want to try everything possible for his patients. I was hoping if we could connect on some level things would be easier.”
“I adore you even more for trying, but I don’t want him to ruin this evening. Not when you look so beautiful and smell so sexy.”
His hand slid to the base of her spine, the other threaded into her hair. The familiar possessive and sensual hold was enough to melt some of her resolve. She rested her cheek on his chest and said, “Okay, but I still can’t believe Rose is his mother. She’s so nice. He should put her on a pedestal. It’s like he’s so busy keeping up this facade of who he wants people to see that he’s lost sight of the people who matter most.”
DEAN’S CHEST FELT full to near bursting. He didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with Emery than he already had, but the combination of her determination to connect with his jerk of a father and her desire to see him cherish the people who should matter most solidified what he’d already known. While he and Emery might be as different as day and night on some levels, the very foundations of their beliefs were perfectly aligned. Family and love came before all else.
He rubbed his beard along her cheek, enjoying the feel of her shuddering against him. He was glad he hadn’t shaved it off this summer. He still remembered the night they were FaceTiming and she’d begged him to keep it, the way her eyes had turned sultry. It boggled his mind that a person could be so deep in denial about emotions so strong they had practically reached through the phone and gobbled him up.
“I’ll never become him, Em,” he assured her. “I’ll never put anything ahead of you, and I’ll never treat people poorly. I need you to know that.”
“I know. You care too much. Besides, you’re the most loyal man I know.”
“Thank you, but that’s not why.” He held her closer, swaying to the music as he spoke into her ear, wanting her to hear every word. “It’s because I’m falling for you, Emery, and I could never hurt the person I value most.”
She gazed up at him, looking deeply into his eyes, as if the answers to the questions in hers lingered there.
He smiled and touched his lips to hers. “From the very first day I saw you wrapped up in that big red ribbon, positive energy radiating off of you brighter than the sun, and you opened that beautiful mouth of yours and sassed me all night long, I was a goner.”
“Dean,” she said with watery, surprised eyes.
“I don’t want you to get freaked out and run away. I just need you to know that I’m all in, Emery. I want you in my life.”
“I’m all in, too,” she said joyfully, rendering him momentarily speechless. “I am, Dean. I know I’m not experienced at relationships, and I’ll probably still mess things up a bunch of times, but not in the really bad ways, like cheating or anything. Just in doing-dumb-things-without-thinking ways.”
Remembering the night of the bonfire and the way she’d decided to change her clothes in the bathroom instead of on the beach, he said, “We all do things without thinking sometimes, but I have faith in us. If either of us stumbles, we’ll be there to help each other find our footing.”
She pressed her body to his with the biggest grin he’d ever seen and said, “You have to at least pretend to dance, or everyone’s going to look at us.”
He hadn’t realized he’d stopped. “I want to remember you just like this for the rest of my life,” he said without moving. “Right here, in this dress, telling me you’re falling for me.”
As couples danced around them and the darkness peered in through the windows, he didn’t want to waste another second in this stuffy ballroom. All he wanted was to be alone with the woman he adored. “What do you say we get out of here? Go for a walk on the beach where it’s not so stuffy?”
“That sounds wonderful. Right after you dance with your mom.” She pointed to his mother, who was sitting at the table watching them with an appreciative smile. His father stood across the room talking with two of his partners. “She deserves to have a happy night, too.”
She gave him a chaste kiss and said, “I’m going to the ladies’ room. Don’t find a new girlfriend while I’m gone.”
He tugged her against him again, feeling happier than he could ever remember being. “No one could ever replace you. Do you know where it is? You have to go out of the ballroom and down the hall. Want me to walk you there?”
“No. I want you to dance with your mom. I know where it is. I saw it on our way in.”
“Okay. Don’t take too long.” Despite her fancy dress and the formalness of the event, he gave her butt a pat, and she walked away smiling.
Dean approached his mother and extended his hand. “May I have this dance?”
“Thank you.” His mother placed her delicate hand in his.
She moved gracefully in his arms. “I forgot how well you danced.”
“I used to go dancing quite often with your father,” she said, smiling.
“Before Grandpa died.”
“Yes, but I still remember it like it was yesterday.” She was quiet for a moment before saying, “I like Emery. She’s got spunk.”
“That she does.”
“You look at her like you can’t breathe without her,” she said with the intuitive tone he remembered from his youth.
“Do I?” He knew he did, but this wasn’t a conversation he’d been prepared for, even if he liked knowing she’d noticed.
“She’s good for you. I can tell.” She glanced at his serious-faced father, who was still deep in conversation with the two other men. “But she’ll try your father’s patience, and we all know he’ll try hers.” Bringing her attention back to Dean, her expression turned serious. “Don’t let that dissuade you. Follow your heart, baby. It’ll never lead you astray.”
He couldn’t imagine letting his father dissuade him from anything, other than further confirming that he did not belong in the medical field.
After their dance, two of his mother’s closest friends, Elsa Longhorn and Aimee LaRue, the wives of his father’s business partners, appeared by her side.
“Dean, it’s so wonderful to see you,” Elsa said.
He hugged her briefly. Elsa had always been good to him, and unlike his father, she understood that he and Diana were simply not meant to be together.
“It’s nice to see you, too.” Having practically grown up with these women, Dean also embraced Aimee. “You ladies look beautiful tonight.”
“You are a charmer,” Elsa said. “And Diana tells me your date is as lovely in person as she looks.”
Dean looked in the direction of the ladies’ room, missing Emery already. “She is. Thank you. How is Diana?”
“She’s doing well,” Elsa said thoughtfully. “She had to leave early. Harvey, her new boyfriend, is an up-and-coming obstetrician, and you know how that goes. When the babies are ready to enter the world, they’ll wait for nothing.”
The women spirited away his mother, who left him with a kiss, a pat on the cheek, and a promise to call him in the coming days. Dean gazed out the windows into the darkness. He was glad his mother had close friends, and he wondered if she was happy.
He caught sight of his father’s reflection in the glass as he stepped up beside him. The muscles in Dean’s neck pulled tight as he turned to face the man who had once left their family, and had returned a loving, attentive father. He wondered where that man had gone. As he studied his father’s face, noticing crevices etched across his forehead, the loosened jowls that came with age, and his ever-sharp blue eyes, Dean wished he knew what had changed when he’d gone away to college and they’d lost his grandfather. How many stars had to have misaligned for his father to have turned into a bitter, angry man—the very reflection of Dean’s grandfather, whom his father more often than not had abhorred.
“I think tonight’s event has gone well, don’t you?” His father sipped his drink and slid one hand into his trouser pocket, his steady gaze holding Dean’s.
Dean nodded, struggling to quell the familiar battle waging inside of him. He wanted to walk away and never look back as badly as he wanted to tell his father exactly what he really thought of him. But respect and loyalty went a long way, and normally Dean was careful not to do or say anything that could cause a rift big enough to hurt his mother. Jett had taken care of that all on his own. But tonight Dean had been chewing on the way his father had mistreated Emery, and he wasn’t about to let that go.
“I do think the event has gone rather well. But in the future, please treat Emery with the same level of respect you expect from others.”
His father’s glass stopped halfway to his mouth. He lowered it slowly, his brows lifting slightly. “You sure you want to do this now?”
Dean drew his shoulders back. “It seems appropriate, given that you practically laughed at her career. She’s a brilliant, kind woman, and more importantly, she’s my girlfriend.”
A long, drawn-out sigh left his father’s lips. He glanced out the window, the extended silence clawing at Dean’s nerves. His fingers curled and flexed as his father slowly brought his attention back to him.
“You’re a Masters, son,” he said evenly. “For generations, the Masters men have not only been doctors, but we’ve been leaders in our fields. Don’t you think it’s about time to put this resort business on the back burner and get serious about your career? You’ve had a solid break after tinkering with trauma nursing. It’s time to get in the trenches and make a difference in this world.”
“If making a difference, in your mind, also means treating people the way you do, then I want no part of it.” He stepped closer, his tone deathly calm. “And for the record, my years spent as a trauma nurse were not only every bit as intense and important as your career, but they proved to me that while you can shut off your emotions, I cannot. The people I watched die were someone’s relatives. They mattered to them, and the moment they were on my table, they mattered to me.”
His father gave a half-cocked smile. “I forgot that you were too weak to handle trauma nursing. But there are other types of medicine—”
“Stop,” Dean interrupted. “I’m thirty-two years old, not a child you can direct as you see fit or demean at your will. There are many types of weaknesses, and the ability to connect with humans is not one of them. You used to know how to do that. The resort, working with men I respect and love like brothers, and nurturing life through nature makes me happy and proud. It’s a shame you don’t appreciate the value in those things, but I’m not going to waste any more of my breath trying to convince you otherwise.”
His father seemed to mull that over with a lingering sip of his drink. “Fair enough. Then let’s talk about your personal life. Diana is still unmarried.”
“Seriously, Dad? Are you really going to try to pawn that poor woman off on me again?”
“She’s good for you, son. She’ll never try your patience or speak against you.” His father looked out the window again and said, “This woman, Emery, is clearly intelligent, but she’s a distraction, a—”
Dean grabbed his father’s arm, turning him forcefully so he had no choice but to look him in the eyes. With his heart slamming inside his chest and his teeth clenched tight, he seethed, “It’s one thing to push me toward a profession I don’t want, but don’t you ever—ever—talk about the woman I love that way.” He dropped his father’s arm. “I’m done with this. Whatever this is between us.” He stalked away, and his eyes connected with Emery’s. His heart lurched as she turned and bolted toward the exit.