24. Twenty-Four
Twenty-Four
Juliet
A s soon as Henry left the kitchen, Libby turned to give me an apologetic smile.
“Oh honey, I'm so sorry,” she whispered, taking my hands in hers. “I swear I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Henry’s sense of humor hasn’t changed since he was twelve years old. I should've waited for him to leave the room before I said anything that could be twisted into a dirty joke.”
In my wildest dreams, I would never have imagined I’d be standing in a kitchen while my lover’s ex-wife apologized for an unintended innuendo.
“Please, it’s fine,” I insisted, hoping the color in my cheeks was fading.
“I don’t want things to be awkward between us. I haven’t seen Henry this happy in a long, long time,” Libby confessed.
She squeezed my hands once more before she moved to fuss over dinner. As I stood there, I chewed on that statement, realizing I hadn’t been this happy in a long time either. I hovered awkwardly as I watched her slice into a loaf of fresh bread that smelled divine.
“Can I help with anything?”
Libby’s smile hit me like a beam of sunlight. “The plates are on the counter, if you wouldn’t mind bringing them to the dining room? It’s just through there.”
With a task to occupy my hands and take my mind off my nerves, I set the table. Though I tried not to think about the fact that Henry and Libby had once been married, I was buzzing with curiosity about their history.
When I glanced out the big window at the back of the house, Henry and Mark were wrestling in the grass behind the grill and I abandoned my task to watch them.
I recognized Mark as one of the men who’d been talking to Henry outside The Mermaid that night and wondered if Henry told him how I threatened to break his hand. With sun-streaked blonde hair and a physique to rival Henry’s, Mark looked more like a surfer than someone who made bath and body products.
From all I’d heard from Henry, the two of them were as close as Henry was to his brother. Seeing them together, laughing in the midst of their roughhousing, I could almost feel it.
I’d always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. For years, I begged my mother for a baby brother or sister, well before I understood the particulars of such a request. My mother always replied that we were a team, a dynamic duo, and vowed we would take on the world together.
Absently, I rubbed at the twinge under my breastbone as I continued to spy on Henry and Mark horsing around in the grass.
They grappled for several minutes, jostling to bring the other down like they were on an elementary school playground, until Libby poked her head in to fetch me. I followed her to the back hall, where she cleared her throat from the doorway. She stood there, arms crossed, watching them with amusement as both men shot upright and Mark saluted.
“Juliet, this is Mark Davies. Mark, Juliet,” Henry said, elbowing his friend in the ribs when Libby wasn’t looking.
“If you boys are finished wrestling, dinner is ready,” she informed them. “Are those vegetables done or were you too busy for that?”
“Grilled vegetables, check,” Mark said, then offered his hand to me with a broad, friendly smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Juliet.”
Stepping forward, I shook it and couldn’t help but smile back. I shot a curious glance at Henry, who now looked a tad ruffled and even sexier than usual. He winked at me.
“Thank you for having us. Sorry to interrupt your . . . uh, whatever this was,” I said, gesturing between the two men.
Henry hopped up the stairs, slipping his arm around my waist as we moved to the dining room. When Mark pulled Libby into his arms for a long, passionate kiss, Henry leaned in close to my cheek and whispered, “Show-offs.”
Though I shivered as his breath tickled my ear, I rolled my eyes and shot him a smile.
The meal was delicious and so devoid of awkwardness that I was both amazed and humbled by the acceptance these people offered me. Since my mother’s death, Sarah and Andre had forced me to go out with them more times than I could count, determined not to let me wallow in my grief, but it was never even close to as comfortable as this.
Bless her, Sarah had tried her hardest. I just always felt like someone on the outside looking in, a third wheel left out in the cold.
This evening was completely different. All three of them directed conversation toward me, making me feel totally included, fully immersed instead of lingering at the outer edges. It was enough to make my chest swell with emotion, so much so that I was afraid I might embarrass myself by bursting into tears.
As though he could see straight into my heart, Henry found regular excuses to touch my arm or my hair. The soft, comforting caresses settled me. When he set his hand on my knee under the tablecloth, though, he ignored the glare I shot in his direction. He smiled with wide-eyed innocence even as he stroked his fingers along the inside of my thigh.
“You know, we have a little hiking group that gets together on weekends. You’re welcome to join us if you’re interested in seeing more of the area,” Mark said, distracting me from Henry’s fingertips. “Henry and Blue come out sometimes.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I’ll probably avoid forests for a while longer,” I joked.
Henry grinned at me and said, “Well, if you change your mind, there’d be half a dozen people out there to keep you from falling down any hills. Safety in numbers, you know.”
“Stop teasing her, boys,” Libby ordered. “Juliet, I want to hear about your artwork. Nan showed everyone in town the article about your award. You’re very talented.”
Though I tried to demur, the three of them worked together to gently draw me out. Henry gushed about what he’d seen in my sketchbook, gazing over at me with an expression both sweet and soft.
Once I started sharing such a vital part of myself, I discovered how rewarding it could be to let them in. An unfamiliar feeling of contentment spread through my chest.
At the end of the meal, Mark and Henry rose to clear the table, leaving me and Libby sipping a local wine that I vowed to buy for myself as soon as possible. They returned from the kitchen with a beautiful fruit tart for dessert.
“Mark made it,” Libby said with a conspiratorial wink. “I freely admit that I married him for his pastry skills, though Henry’s a decent enough cook.”
“This is true. She loves me for my desserts.” With a laugh, Mark leaned down and kissed the side of his wife’s neck before serving us each a slice.
“So you make pastries as well as soaps?” I ventured.
Mark’s grin widened. “Yes, did Henry tell you about the shop? You should come in sometime.”
“She’s totally obsessed with how amazing I smell,” Henry said as he slung his arm across the back of my chair. “I probably should have let her believe it was just my own manly essence.”
Though I narrowed my eyes at him, I then smiled brightly at Mark. “Clearly, it’s all thanks to you and has nothing to do with this oaf.”
Mark and Libby burst out laughing. Henry grinned and tugged playfully on a lock of my hair.
“Oh,” Mark said, waving his fork toward me, “I like you, Juliet. Stick around, would you? We need someone who can keep Henry in line, knock him down a peg when he gets too puffed up.”
I let the sheer joy of companionship float over me. When I glanced over at Henry, I saw that soft look in his eyes and all of the broken pieces inside me finally slid into place.
This was home. This was belonging .
Now that I’d found it, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to give it up.