Chapter 11
Julian wasn’t sure if he should bite the bullet, drive to Petula and Statler’s house, then just…knock on the door?
Tabbi and Jett had told him that was definitely the way to go, but his covert training had him wanting to do a stealthy recon on the entire property before he committed.
What if Statler were one of those gun-toting ex-military guys who didn’t like people showing up at his door? What if the man had already copped an attitude where Julian was concerned, and was primed to eviscerate him?
That, of course, would depend on whether Petula had told her brother that he and she had shared a few morning confabs.
Maybe she hadn’t.
Maybe the meetings hadn’t been as important to her as they’d been to Julian, which would definitely suck. But he wasn’t going to worry about that right now. He was on edge, enough.
He’d thought about which approach to take all day, until he’d finally locked the door at Diver Downeast and had to choose.
He hit the key fob for his truck, and…
Screw it.
Julian hopped in with new determination.
Direct approach it was.
If Statler came at him, he’d deal with it.
There weren’t many times in Julian’s adult life where he was overtly nervous.
Even when running dangerous ops, he’d been known for his cool head.
But as he drove out of town, Julian’s hands tapped apprehensively on the wheel.
He had to admit to himself that this was a bigger deal than he’d let himself believe.
After several weeks of pining for Petula from afar, finally daring to speak with her, then having two very innocuous breakfasts together, Julian was absolutely sure he wanted to keep things going.
He couldn’t get Petula out of his head. And not just in the protective way that had roared to life when he’d heard about her brother Jefferson being a murderer, then going off radar.
No. He wanted to explore exactly who she was. For herself. Underneath all the prickliness and troubles.
After the majority of Julian’s siblings—with the exception of Vincent, and Seifer who was far too young—had fallen into heavy-duty relationships, he finally understood how they felt.
Meeting a woman who just seemed to fit was like getting smacked in the chest with a shovel, being unable to take a deep breath until you knew if she returned your regard.
Did he want what his brothers had?
Absolutely.
Was he making up this attraction to Petula in order to get that?
Not even close.
He might not have been much of a dater before, but he’d casually bedded enough women to know that what he was feeling with Petula was different. Being with her was not only warm and good, it was all-encompassing.
Julian turned into the Bothswait’s driveway and his backbone stiffened to face whatever would come at him.
Just let Statler try to run him off.
Not happening.
Just let him try to talk Julian out of seeing Petula.
Fat chance.
The man could try, and Julian would give him props for being a good, watchful brother, but Statler would soon learn that when Julian dug his heels in, he wasn’t easily deterred.
Julian opened his door, and before he even got his second foot on the ground, a voice greeted him from a shed off to his left.
“I wondered how long it would take before you came here,” a tall, blond behemoth declared gruffly as he approached. “If you’d been even another day, I was going to come search you out.”
Ahh. So the gloves were already off.
Good.
This was something Julian could work with.
“Statler Bothswait?” Julian responded, getting fully out of his truck to square his body off as the big man stalked closer.
“I am. And you’re Julian Sothard. You look like your brother Vincent. And the rest of them,” Statler smirked.
Julian recalled what Petula had said about Statler and Vince having sports in common.
“That’s right. You played against Vince’s football team in high school.” Julian nodded. “And yes. We look a lot alike.”
“I’m familiar with your family,” Statler allowed, stopping six feet from Julian and crossing his arms over his chest. “Which is the only reason I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt where your interest in my sister is concerned, instead of throwing your ass off my property.”
Posturing, were they? Okay. Julian could play this game.
“You can try, but unless I’m willing to leave, you’ll have one hell of a time making it happen.”
It was Statler’s turn to nod, but his lips twitched upward.
“Yup. Cocky, just like Vincent. I don’t know why I expected any different.”
Julian attempted to ramp things down. “You probably didn’t expect that someone interested in your sister would come ask your permission to see her before he asked her out on their first, real date.”
Statler dropped his aggressive stance, and one brow rose. “You’re asking my…permission?”
“I am,” Julian concurred. “And after you give it, we’ll have something else to discuss. I come bearing intel, of which you may or may not be aware.”
Statler’s face turned from cautious to interested. “That sounds intriguing.”
It took Statler less than five seconds to make up his mind and drop his shields
He stuck out a hand. “Welcome to the Bothswait property.”
Julian didn’t hesitate to take the overture.
“Thanks,” he responded smartly, grabbing the offered shake with a chuckle. “I’m just glad I didn’t get my ass nailed with buckshot the minute I showed up.”
“Nah,” Statler grinned, and Julian could see the resemblance between the siblings. “I wouldn’t have used a shotgun. It would have been my twenty-two, and I would have aimed for an arm or a leg. But Petula probably wouldn’t have forgiven me if I scarred up your skin.”
“She probably wouldn’t even notice, since I have so many,” Julian quipped. He’d gotten into a few tough spots with the Guardian Angels Team. Luckily, nothing that had been life-threatening.
Still, he never tried to get shot on purpose. That shit hurt.
“We can swap war stories another time,” Statler told him. “Right now, you want to join me for a drink, and we can discuss your intentions toward my sister?”
Julian was already liking Statler. No bullcrap, and straight to the point.
“A beer would be nice.”
“Those I can supply.” Statler turned toward the house, and Julian followed.
Excited to see the inside of where Petula lived, Julian let his gaze roam as they crossed the yard.
The land was pretty sweet, and the house was surrounded by trees; well-isolated from neighbors prying eyes.
It was just the kind of place Julian had been looking for.
At the moment, he was living under his parents’ roof, but all parties involved there, needed their space.
After a month, the arrangement was already getting a little stale, so he’d been perusing what was available, and there were a couple possibilities.
“How many acres do you have here?” Julian asked.
“Twenty, give or take,” Statler supplied.
“Nice. It’s just the kind of spread I’m looking for.”
Statler gave him a questioning look, and Julian filled him in.
“I’m bunking at my parents’ place until I find something I want to buy.”
“Something local, right?” Statler questioned.
“Absolutely,” Julian assured him. It was obvious Statler was feeling him out on whether he’d be sticking around, or whether he’d play fast and loose with Petula’s heart, then bug out.
Not his intention.
“I’ve got a vested interest in Diver Downeast now,” Julian told him as they walked up the porch steps and into a living room that was charming, cozy, and spotlessly clean. “I’ve gone in as a partner in the business with my brothers Spence, Buck, and Trask, and two of their wives, Tabitha and Jett.”
“Good to know,” Statler acknowledged.
Julian looked around. A hardwood floors gleamed underfoot.
An oversized sofa in subdued yellow tones took up a lot of the room.
The couch was flanked by one electric, reclining chair that if Julian wasn’t mistaken, had Statler’s name all over it.
All available seating faced a large screen TV that was nestled between two windows, with a huge coffee table within reaching distance that was scarred with use, and obviously well loved.
The walls were painted a cheery shade of blue, and there were framed watercolors scattered about on those surfaces that depicted sunny, outdoor landscapes, giving the room a bright, upbeat vibe.
A well-used fireplace sat to the recliner’s left, and to Julian’s right were a stack of folding chairs leaning up against a side table.
Statler saw his questioning stare.
“Oh, those?” he said. “That’s extra seating for when my entire crew comes over, which tends to happen a lot. If they show up one at a time, there’s room on the sofa, but when all six of them descend, things can get a little tight.”
“Your crew,” Julian posited, filing away that there were half a dozen of them. “They’ve been with you a long time?”
“Yup. I served with each one of them at some point during my stints in the Army,” Statler didn’t hesitate. “I trust them implicitly with my life and Petula’s.”
Was that a warning? Julian didn’t care.
It was really good to know Petula had eyes on her. It went a long way toward calming his fears. But did Statler know there might be a threat looming? That was the big question.
Still, he wasn’t going to get to that until they’d cleared the air a bit about his intentions regarding Petula.
“Have a seat,” Statler told him before disappearing into what Julian could see through the large, arched doorway, was a decent sized kitchen.
Julian got settled, and Statler came back right away with two frosty bottles. “You want a glass?” Statler asked him.
“Bottle’s fine,” Julian said, reaching out and taking the beverage.
Statler took his chair, but didn’t recline. Instead, he perched on the edge, his eyes intent on Julian.
“So, you and my sister…” He left what was not quite a question, hang in the air.
Julian immediately liked being paired with Petula.