We told everybody he was working hard to secure a contract with the CEO of a pillow company, which explained him being MIA for most of the week.

I wound up spending most of my free time with Marley. We swam together in the heated pools outside the hotel, treated ourselves to a little spa time, and even caught a movie in Marley’s room while enjoying room service a few times. It was nice, because I usually found myself making excuses to avoid social stuff, even with a close friend like Marley. Being here for work made everything easier for me.

Or maybe it was some remnant of the effect Dean had on me, which was unsettling for a number of reasons.

But in the pit of my stomach, I knew Asheville was just the warm-up. Fooling my sister, who was deliriously happy with her upcoming wedding and currently blind to just about everything but Jonas, had been easy. Relatively speaking, at least. Fooling my brother,, my parents, my Grandma Bobo, and everybody else who would be at the wedding was going to be an entirely different task. My overprotective cousins from Alabama were also going to be there, and I knew that was going to be a serious challenge.

I got the last of my things packed up and loaded into bags. Jonas was insisting that everyone who worked directly under him at Pollard from the tenth floor come along to the wedding. That meant most of the people at the hotel were heading back to Manhattan, but my co-workers were loading up into the same style charter bus we’d taken from the airport to the hotel a week ago. I thought I was going to be on that bus, but the plan had changed.

Dean had driven a rental car and intended to roadtrip by himself out to the venue. As soon as Jonas heard this at one of our work dinners a few days ago, he asked why we weren’t driving together. Naturally, we had to jump to explain that we actually were planning to road trip out to Colorado together.

That meant I was now watching Dean load my suitcases into the trunk of his rental SUV. He saw me watching, flashed a tame smile, and closed the trunk. “Ready?” He asked. “Did you use the bathroom already?”

“Yes, Dad,” I said, getting around to my side of the car.

Dean got in, grinning and turning the engine on. “Are you ready for twenty-one hours on the road with yours truly?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not sure. Ask me in about ten hours.” He was in a good mood, it seemed. The version of him I’d seen the last few days had been quiet and withdrawn, which I didn’t think seemed anywhere near natural for Dean Slater. Right now, he looked more like how he’d been when we first met or for the first two days at the hotel. He was smiling easily and relaxed. Jovial, almost.