23. Twenty-Three
Twenty-Three
Henry
W hen Juliet finally insisted she needed to shower and get ready for dinner with Libby and Mark instead of lounging naked in bed, I groaned with genuine reluctance. Watching her stroll through the room, glorious in her nudity, as she gathered an armful of clothes from the closet and headed toward the bathroom was only a small consolation.
Once she was out of sight, I leaned back on the pillows and closed my eyes. All I wanted to do was spend my days with her: next to her, over and under her, inside of her. Any of those would satisfy me, but I wanted it all.
It was intensely rewarding and more than a little amusing that I was able to distract her so easily, take her mind off things with just a touch of my mouth or a sweep of my hand. I wasn’t usually the jealous type, as evidenced by my heartfelt support of Libby and Mark’s relationship, but I imagined that her idiot ex hadn’t possessed this particular ability when it came to Juliet Morrison.
My smugness was immediately dampened by the reminder that she’d not only had to deal with her own grief at the time, but also a selfish, oblivious boyfriend.
I shoved the thought aside and wondered why the hell I'd agreed to this dinner instead of spending the rest of the day and night in bed with Juliet, but I finally rolled to my feet so I could pull on my jeans. My shirt was nowhere in sight, so I strolled out of the bedroom to check the couch.
Along the way, I popped my head in through the open bathroom door and found Juliet applying mascara. She wore black leggings and a silky blue blouse that made my fingers itch to touch her, to see if the fabric was as soft as the skin underneath.
Pausing with the mascara wand aloft in front of her face, she gave a slow perusal of my bare torso in the mirror.
“I didn’t realize dinner was clothing optional,” she teased, but there was no mistaking the appreciation shining in those brilliant blue eyes.
I moved to stand behind her, setting my hands on her hips. My thumbs slipped under the hem of her blouse and I gave a slow smile when she shivered at the brush of my fingers.
“You look incredible,” I murmured against her ear. “Good enough to eat.”
Her cheeks colored, but instead of shooing me away, she closed the tube of makeup, turned, and ran her hands over my chest.
“As much as I like this look, I’m not sure your ex-wife’s current husband will appreciate you flaunting all that muscle. If he cuts off your soap supply, you’ll need to find a new reason for me to nuzzle you all the time.”
“Party-pooper.”
I kissed her freshly-glossed lips before trudging to the living room to locate my shirt. Somehow, it had ended up wedged between the couch cushions. I pulled it on and gave Blue a quick belly rub.
“C’mon, I’ll take you out while the lady does her thing.”
Before opening the back door, I peeked out through the sheer curtains, but the yard lay still and silent. For the briefest moment, I wondered if I'd only imagined that flash of movement earlier, but I would take no chances when it came to Juliet.
I stepped out into the afternoon sun, watching Blue as she pranced across the lawn to explore new scents. Casually slipping my hands into my pockets, I wandered up the side of the yard nearest the woods. The only sounds were birdsong and some occasional snuffling from Blue as she joined me to investigate.
Though I wasn’t completely sure what I’d hoped to find, I saw nothing that screamed lurker to me, no footprints or cigarette butts or anything the movies suggested might signify a threatening presence.
Once Blue and I had scoured the area where I thought I saw movement, I turned back to the house to judge the distance.
“Smell anything, girl?” Blue sniffed at a few trees but trotted calmly back to my side after another minute, prompting me to mutter, “Should’ve gotten a bloodhound.”
Just as I turned back to the cottage, though, my gaze caught on a tree trunk sporting deep gouges in the bark. I moved closer, running my fingers over the lines. It was the letter M, but it looked like an old mark, worn into the rough surface.
“What the hell?”
Standing by the marked tree, I looked back across the lawn and watched as the lacy curtains in Juliet’s bedroom shifted in the breeze. The thought of someone standing here while we were inside the cottage—while we were in her bed—filled me with twin bursts of nausea and fury. We’d kept the lights off, as far as I could recall, so there was only a slim chance of seeing much from here.
Shit, I didn’t want to scare her, not when I couldn’t be sure the marks weren’t from as far back as her mother’s childhood. Maybe I’d just make sure we replaced those curtains sooner instead of later.
“Weird,” I muttered.
Blue cocked her head at me, then she nosed at the base of the tree and I spotted a piece of paper half-buried under the weeds.
I picked it up by the corner, shaking off bits of leaf and dirt to reveal thick, fancy paper with swirling cursive across it.
My dearest Juliet.
It was the note from her mother, the one she thought she’d lost. I glanced back toward the cottage, its tidy garbage cans outside the back door. Their covers fit snugly to deter animals from rifling through them, but it was possible the note had blown across the yard when she took out the trash.
Blue and I returned to the house to find Juliet waiting in the doorway, looking impossibly beautiful. The blouse flattered every lush curve and its pale blue shade turned her eyes the same vibrant cerulean as the afternoon sky. Her hair was drawn up and back, with curling wisps around her face.
“Find anything?” she asked.
“Looks like maybe your mom scratched her initials on a tree when she was a kid,” I replied. “Oh, and this.”
I handed her the note and watched those blue eyes immediately fill with tears. She smoothed it out, brushing a smudge of dirt from the paper, then clasped it to her chest.
“I can’t believe it was out there all this time. Thank you.”
“Of course,” I said gently. “I didn’t spot anything else outside, but I'm definitely glad you’re so obsessed with locking the doors.”
Juliet gasped in mock outrage, but when she jokingly moved to flounce away, I caught her around the waist, swung her into my arms, and kissed her, a light, teasing graze of my lips across hers. As I’d hoped, her hand immediately slipped around the back of my neck to draw me down for more.
When we finally parted, I took great pleasure in studying that sweet, dazed look in her eyes. Juliet blinked it slowly away, like she was waking from a particularly pleasant dream. I kissed the tip of her nose and set the letter on the counter, then bolted the back door and took her hand as we headed to the front of the house.
“We can park at my place,” I said, watching as she locked it with her key. “I’ll get changed and we can walk over.”
“You live that close to them?” Her eyebrows arched upward, then her mouth dropped open in horror. “I didn’t mean for that to sound so clingy. I’m just curious, I swear.”
I grinned at the way the words tumbled from her lips, enjoying the tiny hint of jealousy that colored the question. “Relax, Red. Yes, they live across the street.”
“Not a single one of my past relationships ended well enough to stay friends. Then again, I guess none of them started with friendship, either. It’s probably a good thing none of them live nearby.”
“I had an apartment in town for a while, but my parents sold me their house when they got the RV. When they’re done traveling, they’re planning to downsize. Libby and Mark bought a house across the street when they got married, maybe four, five years ago now? I was their best man. I look pretty damn good in a tux, in case you wondered.”
“I did wonder, actually. It was an important consideration before I allowed you to rescue me in the woods,” she replied.
I laughed as I opened the door of the truck for Blue to jump in, but I caught Juliet around the waist before she followed. She smirked at me for a second, then rose on her tiptoes to kiss me. From up close, I watched her eyelids float down just before her mouth opened under mine and her body softened against my chest.
When we finally drew apart, I brushed the tip of my nose against hers and winked, then gave her a hand to help her climb up into the truck. Once I was in the driver’s seat with Blue wedged between us, Juliet grinned over at me.
“I do truly look forward to seeing firsthand this fascinating triangle you guys have going,” she said earnestly. “The evening promises to be quite illuminating.”
I shook my head. “I guarantee you it isn’t as interesting as it sounds. We’re all just friends.”
“Friends who used to be married but aren’t anymore, plus friends who used to not be married but now are, plus friends who just spent a night and the better part of the day in bed together?”
“That sounds about right.”
Her laughter filled the cab and I stopped wondering why I’d agreed to dinner at Libby’s. Juliet had been alone for too long. She needed to feel like she belonged in Spruce Hill, because she did belong here.
When we reached my house, her eyebrows rose once more. It was a quiet neighborhood close to the center of town, and the house was much like the other old Victorian homes found nearby. The siding was a soothing sage, with darker green shutters and tiny rose-pink accents along the scrolling woodwork.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
I parked the truck and cocked my head at the house. It had been a long time since I’d tried to look at it objectively. Even when I moved back in, the lingering traces of my childhood had kept me from noticing much beyond glaring spots that needed repair.
“The pink’s a little girly, I guess, but it didn’t seem worth changing. I’m comfortable in my masculinity.”
“Henry,” she breathed, “it’s not girly. It’s amazing. Would you mind . . . can I take some pictures? I already sketched both the cottage and the inn, but this house, this is the embodiment of Spruce Hill in my mind. I want to turn it into art.”
I smiled indulgently at her excited tone. “Well then, be my guest. Do you want to come in while I get changed or are you too enamored with the exterior for that?”
“If you think I’d miss out on the opportunity to see inside, you’re sadly mistaken,” she informed me, but she snapped more than a few pictures with her phone before we entered the house.
The interior was apparently just as captivating as the outside, if Juliet’s crooning appreciation for the dark woodwork, so carefully maintained over the years, was anything to go by. I left her to investigate the array of family photos decorating the mantle and hanging by the stairs while I gave Blue dinner.
Juliet was still admiring the pictures after I ran upstairs to grab a quick shower and change into a crisp gray button-down shirt with a clean pair of jeans. I came up behind her, fastening buttons as I peered over her shoulder.
“Is this you and your brother?” she asked, trailing her fingertips across a pewter frame.
“Yeah, that’s Aaron,” I said fondly. “He works with Libby and I’m sure she’ll tell him all about dinner tonight, so expect another invitation to be coming our way. He and his husband don’t like to be outdone when it comes to social gatherings.”
Juliet’s gaze lingered on the picture for another moment, then she turned and gave a low whistle, sweeping her gaze over me from head to toe.
“You were right. You do clean up well, Mr. Walker.”
I winked at her, then offered my arm. “Ready?”
“Let’s hope so,” she replied, slipping her arm through mine.
Leaving Blue with her favorite stuffed octopus for company, we crossed the street and made our way to Libby and Mark’s place. It wasn’t quite as elegant as my parents’ Victorian, but the house was well-kept, cozy and loved. Flower boxes in the front windows overflowed with blossoms, adding a splash of bold color against the pale yellow siding.
Juliet slipped her phone from her pocket and snapped a few photos before grinning sheepishly up at me. I only smiled, enjoying the opportunity to witness her excitement. Somehow, I’d known she wouldn’t be swayed by elegance, focusing instead on the loving little touches, the evidence of warmth.
I led the way to a side door instead of the front and let us in without bothering to ring the bell or knock.
“Anybody home?” I called as I kicked off my shoes in the mudroom.
Juliet slipped hers off as well, then scowled at me when I laughed at her rainbow striped socks.
“I was distracted,” she hissed under her breath.
“Yes, come on in,” Libby called from the next room. “Mark’s out back grilling some sides, I’m just getting dinner out of the oven.”
The mudroom led to a beautiful kitchen, well-lit and perfectly appointed. Juliet’s gaze went straight to the high-end appliance in question.
“I never knew stove-envy was a thing, but apparently I have it.”
Libby laughed and set a casserole on the kitchen island, then wrapped Juliet in a warm hug. I snickered when her eyes widened in shock.
“I forgot to tell you, she’s a hugger,” I whispered loudly.
Juliet glared at me, but she awkwardly patted Libby’s back. “Thank you for having us.”
When Libby drew away, she held onto Juliet’s shoulders and studied her forehead closely. “That’s healed up nicely. I hope you’ve been resting that knee?”
Juliet flushed scarlet under the fluorescent kitchen lights, clearly thinking about all the things she’d done on her knees in the past twenty-four hours. I burst out laughing, so Libby turned and whacked me with an oven mitt.
“Nevermind, I don’t need the details,” she sang out. “Henry, why don’t you go help Mark outside?”
Juliet turned her face to me in a silent plea not to leave her alone while Libby’s back was turned, but I winked at her, pulled my shoes back on, and headed toward the yard. Mark stood at the grill, wearing sunglasses and humming along to the music streaming from his phone. He turned when the screen door closed behind me.
“Hey, man.” He reached over to grab me around the neck and dragged me in for a hug. “It’s about time I finally get to meet your lady, you jerk. What’s taken so long?”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, realizing I still hadn’t shaved. Juliet seemed to like the scruff, so maybe I’d leave it—she certainly liked it when I ran that roughness along the inside of her lovely thighs. With Mark still studying me, I forced the image from my mind and gave a shrug.
“I’ve been helping her sort through Nan’s boxes after work,” I said simply.
Mark slid his glasses down his nose to look at me. “I have to call bullshit on that one, buddy. I know what happiness looks like on you. It’s been too long since I’ve seen it.”
It was true; I was happy, and I couldn’t remember when I’d last felt like this. Not for the first time, a knot of emotion lodged in my throat when I thought about how lucky I was to still have such good friends in Mark and Libby. I didn’t regret much in my life, but if my failed marriage had led to losing the two of them, I wasn’t sure I could have handled that.
“She’s . . . special. And I almost ruined my chance with her before we even knew each other.”
“Almost doesn’t matter, man. You’re with her now. Don’t blow it, yeah?”
“I’ll do my damnedest,” I replied.
He studied my face for another moment, then said, “What else is up?”
In a quiet tone, I gave him a rundown about the news articles Nan had hidden away, the incident at Cooper’s Point, my odd experience that morning at the cottage, and the gouges I’d found in that tree. Mark was an avid historian and eager to help dig into the events surrounding Melissa’s departure from Spruce Hill—and he was more than willing to recruit others from our small circle of friends to keep an eye out for any strange happenings around town.
I felt a hundred pounds lighter knowing that Juliet would have other people looking out for her, as well.
“Libby was pretty taken with her,” Mark offered, “and, of course, with your knight in shining armor routine. You should have heard her gushing about it. Hell, man, if you were any other guy, I would’ve punched you right in the balls. Good thing I know I’m better in the sack.”
I put my arm around Mark’s shoulders, then wrangled him into a headlock. “Punched me, huh? You could have tried.”
After a few minutes of tussling, I caught sight of Juliet through the big bay window of the dining room and lost my train of thought. Mark followed my gaze, chuckled, and shook his head in amusement. Of course, he then used my distraction to reverse our positions, dropping me to my knees with his forearm around my throat. As long as Juliet was in view, I was willing to cede the high ground.
“Damn, bro, you’ve got it bad,” he muttered.
“I’ve never met anyone like her,” I replied. It was both that simple and that complex.
Through the window, we watched as Juliet focused on placing the plates and napkins just so, then on repositioning the flowers in a vase at the center of the table.
My beautiful artist, I thought with a surge of affection.
Mark was absolutely right. I had it bad.