Chapter Thirty-Four
Federal agents joined Jules at her parents’ house.
Tabitha and Abigail were at each other’s throats, Margot and Sloane huddled in her father’s office, and a gaggle of attorneys held court in the living room.
Some crafted messaging for Sloane to use for public statements on the fire and Mason, while others threw themselves into the business side of her house burning to the ground.
Jules needed to make sure that everyone who worked on the property—housekeepers, chefs, assistants—was financially taken care of until she figured out where she might live.
Her mom settled onto the couch beside her. “You’ve had a crappy go of it lately. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
That hadn’t occurred to her. Sloane had probably explained to her that the pictures with Rhys were staged. Mom didn’t know the half of what happened on St. Barts before she’d hidden in Virginia. But despite all the absurdity, it hadn’t been crappy. She’d fallen in love. “Don’t be.”
“You can stay here as long as you like.”
The offer would always be on the table. Jules’s real estate portfolio would easily absorb her business operations, and she could sleep anywhere.
But she wanted to be in Granite Creek. How had that happened?
Virginia wasn’t a possibility, but it was the first place she thought of—Rhys’s bed; his silly dog that demanded attention first thing in the morning; the small town that didn’t seem to care who she was. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Tabitha crossed the room with Abigail trailing behind her, telling their cousin to give Jules and Mom space. It didn’t work. Tabitha knelt in front of Jules. “How are you?”
“Numb.” Jules finger-combed her hair into a bun. “In shock. I don’t know. It’s been…” Too much. She was done. This was the final straw. She didn’t have it in her to fight for something that had long ago lost its luster. “I’m tired.”
“You can stay with me,” Tabitha offered.
Behind her, Abigail rolled her eyes so hard Jules worried she might fall on top of Tabitha.
“That’s nice of you to offer,” Jules said. “But—”
“She’ll stay with me if she’s not staying with Mom and Dad,” Abigail said with her hands on her hips.
“It’s just an offer,” Tabitha snapped. “Ease up, Abs.”
“Are you hungry?” Mom asked, trying to change the subject with all the subtlety of a linebacker shouting defensive moves. “When’s the last time you ate?”
More than food, she wanted to sleep. “I’m going to take a nap.”
“There are so many people here. Honestly, I can just take you with me,” Tabitha offered.
“Sloane,” Abigail called. “Grab Tabitha before I—”
“Abigail.” Mom crossed her arms. “Enough.”
Rhys joined them, his gaze bouncing between Tabitha and Abigail as though he might have to send them to separate corners. He raised his eyebrows. “All good?”
“Jules is exhausted,” Abigail said. “Will you take her upstairs?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“I loved the pictures of you,” Mom added as Jules stood. “I just loved sticking it to Mason. The little fucker.”
Until today, Jules had been almost defending him. Now she didn’t know what to do. And what about Olivia? She might have ruined their friendship to be with Mason, but she would never get on board with burning down a house or orchestrating the craziness from the honeymoon.
Rhys rested his hand on the small of Jules’s back and led her out of the room.
“I should tell my parents what really happened with Mason. It might help them understand why he did this.”
“ If he did it,” Rhys replied.
They weren’t supposed to talk about the investigation with anyone. But they could with each other. “You’re so sure he didn’t do it.”
Rhys raised his shoulders.
“Then who?”
He shrugged again.
“No way. Tell me.”
They stopped at her childhood bedroom. The last time she’d lived in this house, she’d been a teenager with not enough brains and let Jordan Everett steal her heart.
God, she’d been so stupid. Jules still stayed there on occasion, like holidays, birthdays, and random family gatherings, but she’d never lived there again.
She couldn’t do it. It was almost like starting all over again.
Now here was Rhys, and she loved him, not despite everything they’d been through but because of it. She laced her fingers with his and dragged him into the bedroom.
Her arms locked around his neck, and his mouth covered hers. And in that moment, she was home. Wherever he was, that was where she was supposed to be.
They shed their clothes, making a path across the bedroom, and tumbled naked onto the bed. He surrounded her with warmth that reached every part of her. They were hot and hungry, desperate for more as their searching hands and exploring mouths roamed.
Rhys slid inside her, and all was right in her world. The connection, the sensation, the absolute perfection of their bodies writhing together coalesced into more than she thought was possible.
Jules came again and again as their breaths tangled and raced. She needed this for the rest of her life.
When Rhys tipped his forehead to hers, their eyes locked, and she believed in them. This man was her everything.
“Baby.” His hoarse whisper rolled over her as his body drew closer to climax. “Look at me.”
Her absolute everything.
“I need you,” he said, thrusting into her.
She moaned her agreement.
“I need you.” He flexed into her. “I love you.”
The world stopped spinning on its axis. “I love you too.”
He groaned his release, pouring into her, and his orgasm reignited the last ripple of hers. She came with him, panting and kissing and needing him buried so deep inside her.
Carefully, he separated them, holding her until their seesawing breaths slowed. Then he slipped from the bed, went into the attached bathroom, and returned with a warm, wet cloth. After they were clean of his orgasm, he pulled her to his chest, pressing his lips to her temples.
“I want you to take me back to Virginia,” she whispered.
“You do, huh?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
Jules raised her chin and met his midnight stare. “Because I like your dog.”
Rhys laughed. “Good to know.”
“I like your house.”
“Well, you’re homeless right now. Beggars can’t be choosers.”
Her lips quirked. “You just want me to say it again.”
He smirked. “Yeah, let’s give that a go. Say it and see what happens.”
“I love you.”
He flipped her onto her back and caged her with his arms. “You do, huh?”
“You’re supposed to say it back.”
“I love you, baby. And I’m going to worship the ground you walk on. No matter where we are.”
“I like the way that sounds.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I like the sounds you make while I’m doing it.”
And just like that, he worshipped her again from head to toe, and she made all the sounds he might ever want to hear.