17. Jules #2
Charlie and the boys begin alternating patterns of meltdown, and Charlie toddles over to me, holding out a baseball glove.
“You’re going to the wrong one there, sweetheart.
Jules hated sports,” Dad pipes in. Once again, I hear and feel the silent judgment and condemnation in his tone.
It’s so common that maybe he doesn’t even realize it anymore.
But I, however, am keenly aware that he always hated that I didn’t follow in my older brothers’ footsteps.
Words from way back in the recesses of my memory bloom bright and bold like a dagger to the heart.
“Lots of girls play sports now, Jules. If you’d get your nose out of those books and try it, you might like it. ”
They never saw me. I was simply the last on their to-do list.
“I think Charlie’s getting tired,” I say as an excuse to get the hell out of here before I churn up any more unpleasant memories.
While Cal says goodbye to my brothers, complete with bro hugs and back pats, I gather our things. Then he wrestles Charlie into her car seat after she throws a banger of a temper tantrum.
I’ve had all I can take, and it’s manifested in a massive headache. I’m overtired and over my family, standing blearily beside the car, totally spaced out.
“You’re so tired, baby girl,” Cal croons, and I swear that word choice, even if it’s not addressed to me, makes my belly tighten and loosens the tension that’s had me in a viselike grip most of the night.
“Everything’s going to be okay. You know the drill. We drive home, we take a bath. We go night night. You’re just overtired and have big feelings right now. You’re such a good girl. That’s it. Calm down.”
Charlie quiets, probably from the calm gentleness of his tone. The way he’s treating her, however, is having the opposite effect on me.
Wow. Never realized I have a praise kink, but here we are.
I cross my legs and pinch my inner thighs together. Cal’s head darts to me, and he shoots me a wink. “You’re a good girl too, Jules.”
I want to die. My face is on fire.
I can never look at this man again.
I need to go home and hide forever.
More handshakes happen as he rounds the hood of the truck. Just before I climb in, my brother swoops me into a hug. “I like him,” he whispers against my hair. “Helluva lot better than the last asshat that you brought around.”
We get back to our apartments; Cal goes his way, and I go mine. It’s blissfully quiet as I shower and change into pajamas, but my mind is too keyed up to let me fall asleep.
I pour a glass of wine and head out to the balcony.
With the divider removed, it’s a large open space now.
The railing has empty containers that beg for some pretty draping flowers.
I add planting flowers and acquiring patio furniture to my mental to-do list. Especially since this space directly affects the appearance of my coffee shop.
Might as well use the space as part of my aesthetic.
“I enjoyed this evening.” Cal’s deep voice coming from behind startles me. I look over my shoulder to find him closing the distance. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, that’s okay. I was caught up in mentally decorating this space to use it as part of the store’s ambiance. Did you do this?”
He simply nods as his gaze slides down my body in a scorching reminder that I am wearing my skimpiest pajamas. The silky set feels like butter and looks like a million bucks on me, and for a hot minute, I’m low-key grateful that I haven’t had a chance to do laundry.
“Thank you. I love it.”
His gaze feels like lightning skittering across my skin.
“Did Charlie go down okay?” I have no idea why I’m talking about her. Maybe it’s a subconscious reminder of why I shouldn’t turn around and press my lips to his. A way to stay hidden behind this invisible wall I need to keep between us.
But instead of keeping his distance, Cal walks right up next to me, bending to brace his arms on the balcony railing. I spin and lean back against it, suddenly more interested in the view up here than the one below.
Blue eyes assess the street, then wander up to trace my face. My nipples go rigid against the soft satin top, which he definitely notices if the heat in his gaze is any indication.
“Sorry,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “I need to do some laundry.”
“Don’t on my account. I think you’re perfect like you are.” Warmth unfurls low in my belly at his raspy reply.
I want to kiss him.
He’s still got little red spots lingering where he ran his bout of hand, foot and mouth virus, but it’s not quite enough to make me pump the brakes too hard.
To put a stop to this ridiculous crush that’s growing.
When he looks at me like he is, all I can think of is his voice and the gentle way he handles Charlie.
“You’ve come a long way since that first night.” I don’t even recognize my own voice, it’s so husky. I clear my throat and try again. “She’s happy and adjusting to everything really well.”
“Thanks,” he says, still watching me with that look that promises he would devour me. This is bad boy Cal—the one who rides a motorcycle and maybe does bad things in all the right ways.
I want to ask him if he’s heard from his sister. If he has any idea about the future.
And I can’t decide if maybe I’d like it if the sister came back and suddenly was a super mom, or if it would be the absolute worst scenario because then I’d have zero brakes where Cal is concerned.
I’m terrified that if I start something with him, I can’t keep it casual.
He’s too young for me. Plus, we’re neighbors.
If it fell apart, we’d still see each other all the time.
We share a freaking balcony. If we tried and failed, one of us would be forced to move or suffer daily reminders of each other.
Despite those fears, he’s drawn closer, and I’m leaning in.
“Have you heard from your sister?” I blurt out, effectively killing a moment when maybe he would’ve kissed me.
He pushes off the rail and takes a step back, raking his fingers through his hair.
“Not yet. It’s just a matter of time.” He gives nothing away as to how he feels about it.
“It’s kind of empty up here, isn’t it? We need to get some furniture,” he says, voice back to normal, the lingering heat in his gaze banked.
I take a step away from him and miss his warmth immediately. “That’s what I was thinking when you came out. Maybe a bistro table or some Adirondacks.”
He nods, surveying the space.
“And there’s these planters. I was thinking about adding some flowers, making it all match the decor of the coffee shop as a kind of extension.”
He’s still nodding. “Yeah, I can picture it. It’d be great if there was a way to add some stairs and extend the patio around the side to give you some outdoor seating.”
“That’d be great if these doors didn’t open directly to my bedroom.”
His gaze rakes down my body again, but he backs away another step.
“Speaking of, I’m beat. Get some rest, Jules. Tomorrow, we’ll finish that wall, and you’ll be one step closer.”
He closes the door with one last blistering look back, and I stagger to my own bedroom, closing only the screen door. I need some cooling off if I’m ever going to sleep.
But as my body hits the sheets, all I’m replaying in my mind is how when he looked at me, I wanted him to devour me.
As my hand skates over my silky pajamas, I imagine that it’s his hand gripping and sliding. His fingers finding their way up my inner thigh of the loose shorts, skating over my heated folds. His fingers dipping into the wetness, caressing me until I come with a moan.