19. Jules
Jules
“ I don’t understand how you made this big of a mess, Jules.
It’s not that hard,” Cal admonishes, but he’s grinning.
We’re at the local brewery taking a hand-knitting class, and he’s stolen my project and taken over.
He’s also been grinning for the last hour, and his joy is incredibly attractive. Happiness looks so good on him.
He rearranges the fluffy bolt of yarn as he reaches the end of one row, working the yarn faster and more deftly than I can comprehend. His shoulders are relaxed, eyes focused on the work he’s doing, but he’s smiling nonstop.
Even if I totally suck at hand knitting, this night has been a win because Cal does not. Bonus: I got to dress up and get out of work clothes and pull on a dress for the first time in forever, and he looks scrumptious in his jeans and collared shirt.
We dressed for each other, and that simple act is making my insides squishy.
“You look oddly at home, sitting there knitting.” I take another pull from my second, no, third beer. “I could’ve finished it myself, you know.”
I fight squirming on my stool. Who knew hand knitting could be so erotic.
He reaches the end of the row and, through some complicated knotting, changes the color of the yarn and continues working.
“You could’ve, but you looked so miserable. Someone had to take pity on you.”
He’s been this loose version of himself all evening.
If troubled and stressed-out Cal was hot, this version—happy, relaxed Cal—is hot as hell.
“My shoulders were hurting, all hunched over, trying to make this make sense. I just don’t get all the fingering movements.
Like how do you hold it all together? My fingers aren’t long enough. ”
“Lucky for you, mine are. I’m always happy to help anytime you need assistance with fingering,” he says with a wink.
Heat burns its way up my chest to the roots of my hair, and I lift the strands off the back of my neck to try to cool off.
His blanket is folded neatly, resting at the corner of our table. He’s back to concentrating again, but his lips remain tipped up, his eyes soft, and every line of his body is relaxed.
“This is a good look for you,” I say.
His brows pinch together as his head tilts in question.
“You look happy.” And adorably handsome . He’s quiet, those capable hands working the yarn. It’s hypnotizing watching him work, and I get a mental image of what else he might do with those nimble fingers.
Another hot flash rolls over me, and my face heats up. I slip out of the sweater I had to don earlier.
“You okay?”
His eyes are on me, and my face now burns for a different reason. “Yeah, hot flash. Side effect of the beer. ”
His eyes drop to my lips, then drift over my face. I could live my life watching this man watch me.
“I am happy.” The words are low, for my ears only, and I nearly melt out of my chair. I want him. Maybe it’s the beer talking. Maybe it would be a colossal mistake. I’m way too old for him, and he’s way out of my league and has a kid. But damn, do I want him.
He drags his gaze back to his handiwork. “The coffee shop is looking great, and we should be ready to open any day. I’ve had a good couple of shifts. My old boss from NFD is now working for the county. Got permanently placed at a good station with a crew that I like.”
“And that made you happy?”
He chuckles. “Mac coming over did, for sure. He’s good people and a helluva leader. And my crew is solid.”
“And that makes you happy? Why?”
He does the flip thing again while he ponders his answer. “You know, the fire service is known for its brotherhood. I mean, that’s what it’s supposed to be, right? You spend the majority of your life with these guys, and you’ve got to trust them with your life. So you want to be with good people.”
“It makes sense that you’d feel more confident if you had a good working relationship.”
He shrugs. “It’s more than that. I think I went into it expecting to fall into this big, happy firehouse family.
But where I was, I didn’t have that. Other guys at other stations did.
I got a taste of it from time to time when I filled in at other stations.
But where I was, the crew I was with…” He lifts one shoulder and tilts his head.
“I don’t know, we trusted each other, but we weren’t family. ”
“And you feel like you have that now? ”
“Maybe? It’s still new, but we’re off to a good start.”
I lean closer to him, pressing my shoulder to his, because I suddenly need to touch him. Hug him. “You were looking for a family.”
He focuses on the yarn for a beat too long, and at the end of the row, he pauses. I’m mesmerized by his hands, still leaning into his shoulder. I watch as his hand lifts to my face, and then it’s cupping my jaw as he lifts my chin. Our eyes connect, and I fall into the depths I see in his.
“The family thing is complicated. But yeah, I think I’ve been looking for something for a long time.”
He presses a soft kiss to my lips. The barest lick of his tongue, the slightest suction.
It’s erotic and sensual yet sweet at the same time. I nearly fall off my seat as he pulls away. If we were anywhere other than a public space, I’d crawl right into his lap for more kisses like that.
He goes back to knitting like he hasn’t just rocked my world. I drop my head to his shoulder and take another slug of my beer.
“I thought you didn’t like beer,” he says, shifting a little in his seat, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s as affected by me. It’s not the time or place, and I can’t wait until it is.
“I don’t, usually, but this is good.”
His lips brush my forehead. “So tell me what good thing happened to you today.”
“Well, I got the inspection scheduled. Spent some time with Maggie, organizing our table for the spring market day. And Lissette and I had a good talk without her going off on a tangent.”
“You’ve been fighting with her?” He shifts enough that I have to move or fall over. When I sit up, he’s watching me with that hungry look that I’m really starting to like. The one I’ve imagined every single night while I pleasure myself to fantasies of him.
But Cal and I haven’t talked about my issues with Lissette, mainly because I’ve been avoiding the reality that my best friend is driving me crazy.
But suddenly, I need to share, to get off my chest the heartache that arguing with Lissette is creating.
“She’s doing her thing where she tries to take over.
It doesn’t matter what it is. She’s always got the best ideas, so she thinks.
But in this case, it’s a matter of different expectations.
Different goals. And her not understanding my vision.
She’s only seeing her side and not taking my viewpoint into consideration. ”
“Did you tell her that?”
“Well, no.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not worth the argument.”
“But avoiding the conversation is making it hard on you. Isn’t it easier to have the argument and get it over with? Move on?”
“Ew, conflict.” I sit up and turn away, depositing my now-empty beer on the table behind us. I don’t want him to see how deeply that particular trait goes.
Cal finishes his last row and neatly ties off the yarn without the help of the instructor. Around us, the other DIYers are wrapping things up. We’ve hit the time limit on the class, and it’s getting late.
“Here, let’s go get our picture taken while we can.
” He wraps the blanket that he finished for me around my shoulders and grabs his.
We pose for the instructor; then Cal gets her to AirDrop him a copy of the picture while I go about folding my blanket.
A strange moroseness falling over me that we are at the end of a very fun date.
Even if it was more me watching him enjoy himself.
The warmth of his body seeps into me as he steps close behind. “You want to stay for another round?”
I want to say no and at the same time I want to say yes. I want to turn around and press my lips to his for another one of those kisses.
I go for option three.
A growl rolls up from his chest, and then he’s smiling against my lips.
“Let’s go have one more round out by the fire pit.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss.
The patio is nearly full when we make our way out, and no spots by the pit are open.
Cal delivers our blankets to his bike before taking my hand and ordering us another round.
Then, linking our fingers, he tugs me to a corner and two bar stools.
He takes one, straddling it, pulling it between his thighs.
I’m surrounded by him as I take the other.
We’re closer than necessary, but I don’t mind, because as soon as I’m settled, he leans over and kisses my neck, right in the tender spot below my ear. Taking a second to breathe in deeply. The whisper of air across my ear sends a shiver down my spine.
“This has been a fun evening.” The low rasp of his voice does delicious things to my insides.
“Yeah, it has.” Good lord, my voice sounds all sex kitten. If I don’t get this horniness under control, I might climb him right here. “So, you had a good week, you got all settled in at the station with good peeps.”
“And you had a conflict that you avoided. Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really. I mean, this is how we roll. We have differing ideas. She gets all control-ish. I let her have her say, and she goes about her business, and then I do what I want. Sometimes it’s my way, sometimes it’s hers.”
“But you didn’t actually talk about the problem?”
“Why bother creating drama? It all works out in the end. Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He’s smirking at me now before taking a long pull of his beer. There is something so sexy about a man enjoying a good beer.
I realize it’s the first full one he’s had. When I got frustrated with my project, he’d pushed his in front of me and told me to sit back and let him help.
He pulls the glass away, a smidge of foam lingering on his top lip for a brief second before his bottom lip whisks it away. “Jules, what’s on your mind?”
He knows .
He knows that I am absolutely feral for him.
“Why don’t you ride your bike more often?”
His gaze goes molten. “Did you enjoy that ride, baby?”
Instant panty combustion.
“I’ve had a couple of drinks.”
His hand drifts to my hip, securing me to him. “You have. You’ll have to hold on tight on the way home.”
“Right.” Cheese and rice, I sound like a porn star . But hot damn, I’m ready to wrap my legs around this man.
He busts out laughing, and I realize I might have spoken the thought out loud. He pulls me so close I have to drop my legs over his, and then he buries his face in my neck. I’m pressed against his chest, in the safety of his arms, draped over him like a freaking rag doll, and I want more.
I don’t care if we’re in public. It’s dark and the patio is full. No one even notices us in our private corner .
But Cal notices, and his chest is expanding like he’s having as much trouble breathing as I am. “You ready to go?”
I turn my face into his neck and lick the column of his throat. A rumble rolls through him.
“Yeah, I wanna ride.” If I’m going to sound like a porn star, I might as well go big or go home.
The stool screeches as he stands abruptly. My feet drop, and I’m hauled against his side and practically manhandled through the parking lot, where he grabs the helmet and plops it onto my head.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a wicked little smirk. He’s tilted my chin up and is buckling me in. Staring into my eyes like he can see into my soul. “Is this just a joy ride, Jules? Or is this a case of me taking you back to my place?”
I swallow, and the motion causes his fingers to graze my skin. Everywhere he touches me makes me melt.
I haven’t been with a man in a long time. But with Cal, I could go there again. He’s being gentle, letting me guide the direction of this situationship. And I want to feel closer to him—want to sleep with him and discover all there is to know about him.
It’s a heady feeling, this desire. I want more of it. Before I can think too long and too hard about all the reasons we shouldn’t do this, I nod.
“Can’t I choose both?”
His whole body freezes, nothing moving except his eyes that are searching mine for the truth behind my words. I slip my hand into the waistband of his jeans and tug his hips closer. Pressing into him.
The long, hard length of him against my hip is a delicious tease.
He spins, throwing a leg over his bike, and then he offers me a hand and directs me how to mount the bike. Again, he’s patient and thorough, making sure my skirt is all tucked in so it won’t get burned or caught on the bike.
Strong, sure hands caressing my thighs as he takes care of me.
I can imagine how those traits might translate to the bedroom.
In no time at all, we are screaming down backroads. All of my senses are heightened. Trees and four-rail fencing flash by in a blur.
Between the beers, the sexual tension, and the darkness of the night, this bike ride feels more intimate. The moon is full and bright, allowing me to see the rolling fields dotted with deer. The breeze is cool on my skin. The scent of freshly cut grass lingers in the air.
I’m lost in a feeling I can’t describe, somewhere between amped up with excitement and fear but, at the same time, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. I clench my thighs tighter to him, and he grabs my hands and pulls me closer so my breasts are crushed against his back.
Between the thrill of the ride, the motion of the bike, and the feel of him between my legs, I could almost orgasm.
I splay my hands against his abs, feeling the way they ripple at my touch. A naughty thrill to try to push him to the edge of that control he keeps firmly in check rolls through me, so I explore. Over the planes of his chest, down his abs, to the crease of his hips, and in toward his inner thigh.
His hand grips mine and gives it a squeeze, but he doesn’t pull me away. Instead, he drapes his arm over my leg, his hand on the outside of my thigh, where he grips and tucks me in closer.
Encouraged—and feeling reckless—I continue, my fingertips gliding over the tight denim and an erection that can’t be comfortable.
I want to explore more.
With the flat of my palm, I stroke that bulge. His thighs tense, but the bike stays steady as he throttles up and we go faster, racing through the night.