With thoughts still pinging around in Julia’s head like a handball tournament, they stopped at the door of the delivery office. Chad arched his back and muttered, struggling to tug his keys from the pocket of his wet jeans.
Finally, the door was unlocked, and Chad slogged across the office and up the dark narrow steps, Julia behind him. The door at the top of the stairs swung inward, and Chad flipped on the light and tossed his keys on an end table covered with change, crumpled receipts, torn ticket stubs, candy wrappers, and other pocket trash.
Julia glanced curiously across the room to the dingy, cluttered kitchen, then over her shoulder to the bathroom door that stood ajar. “Nice place.”
Chad snorted, tugged his wallet from his back pocket and dropped it on the end table. “Right.”
He stomped across the room and started digging through a laundry basket on the floor. “Sorry the place isn’t clean -- I wasn’t planning on company,” he said over his shoulder, tugging on the leg of a pair of jeans. The jeans finally came free from the basket, spilling socks, T-shirts, and boxers onto the linoleum.
He tossed the jeans onto a chair and reached for the button at the top of his jeans. He had three buttons open before Julia managed to make a choking noise.
He paused. “Oh, sorry.” Snatching up the jeans from the chair, he slogged past her toward the bathroom, and she heard the door scrape closed.
Picking her way across the messy room, Julia bent to salvage the clothes that had fallen on the floor. The bathroom door scraped open. and she turned to see Chad standing in the doorway staring at her, as he tucked in the front pockets of his dry jeans.
Looking down, Julia realized his boxers were gripped her hand. Embarrassed, she nearly dropped them, but then she realized he hadn’t taken any in the bathroom with him, so he must be going without—unless he was still wearing the wet ones he’d had on—but that was ridiculous.
Chad smiled, knowing exactly where her thoughts were as he snatched his wallet and keys from the end table and tucked them into his pockets. “You ready?”
Julia stuffed the boxers into the basket and scuttled past him, her cheeks burning.
* * *
Two hours later, Julia lifted her coffee mug for a sip, the steamy scent comforting and familiar, as she peeked over the rim of her cup at Chad. He was turned sideways in the other side of the booth, his back leaned against the wall with one leg extended along the seat. He played with his straw, chopping at the ice in his glass as he grinned at her.
“You were hungry,” he said, with a glance at her empty plate.
Julia lowered her cup to the saucer. “It was so good, I couldn’t help myself.”
He smiled in response, his eyes sparkling in the dim glow of the lamp hanging low over the table.
Julia recognized that look and it spoke of speculation. Hopeful speculation. She shifted in her seat primly, more than a little amazed at her miss-ish discomfort. She’d been married for three years and had dated plenty before that, so why was she antsy?
Chad pushed away from the wall and reached for his wallet. He tucked several bills into the check folder and scooted from the booth. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”
A surge of sexual interest caught Julia by surprise as she collected her purse and scooted along the seat of the booth. She couldn’t meet Chad’s eye as she stepped past him toward the door.
Even though her memory wasn’t great, she knew that the old Julia would have been calm, cool, and collected, toying with her date, teasing him into a frenzy before she decided if she would appease him. This was all new. Tonight was about Chad -- not sex. It was about his fingers wound in her hair, his laugh, his breath on her neck, and the emotions that evoked.
Chad opened the passenger door of his truck and Julia climbed inside. As she reached for the seat belt and settled her purse on her lap, she watched him round the front of the truck, tugging the keys from his front pocket. Once again, his lack of boxers came to mind, and she took a moment to consider the idea.
When he climbed into the truck and turned to her, he caught a trace of feminine interest, and his eyes glittered in the darkness. He started the truck and punched radio buttons, settling on a crooning country ballad, then backed from the parking spot.
As they sped down the highway toward Smithville, Julia studied the passing shadows as they played across Chad’s face and arms. His skin took on a golden glow in the light of the dash.
Never before had she been so fascinated with the way a man’s fingers gripped the steering wheel, the way they curled around the hard, cool, plastic, then lifted, hand over hand as he turned, then settled once again to find a comfortable groove. As if he read her thoughts, one hand loosened and slid along the wheel, his fingers skimming the curved edge in time with the music.
Goosebumps danced along Julia’s arms and her scalp tingled. Lost in a sea of wonder and feminine hunger, she didn’t notice that they had stopped in front of her house until Chad’s hands left the steering wheel to open his door. Before she could respond, he was at her door, tugging it open to pull her into his arms. His kiss was warm and deep, his grip tender and searching.
When he broke away and pulled back to whisper in her ear, cool air swooshed between them and she felt bereft, as if a long-awaited meal had been snatched from a starving person. As they tumbled across the yard, Julia realized what he had whispered in her ear moments before, and under the sexual fog, a tiny frisson of excitement and alarm ran down her spine.
Chad waited for her at the door, but she clutched at her purse in a blind stupor, struggling with the zipper. Finally, she managed to pull out the keys, and Chad swept them up to unlock the door.
He handed the keys to Julia, turned the handle, and deftly scooped up the whiney little dog who bolted through the opening. “You go ahead, I’ll let him do his business,” Chad said to Julia over his shoulder as he stepped off the porch and lowered Ringo to the ground.
The living room full of furniture surprised Julia, and she smiled as she ran her hand along the back of the sofa. Chad stepped back into the room and closed the door, locking it behind him and smiling as his eyes wandered languidly over Julia.
Taking her hand, he led her to her bedroom, pulled her inside, waited for Ringo to follow, then quietly closed the door and leaned against it.
Julia knelt by Ringo’s bed counting squirming kittens, then rose to face Chad. Her knees trembled as she drifted toward him, and she wasn’t sure if she were shaking with apprehension or excitement. She lifted a hand to trace his jaw line and his fingers circled around her wrist. His eyes burned into hers, branding a stamp across her heart, the steam rising off the sensation and evaporating the last of her resolve.
* * *
Never before had Chad wanted a woman like this. He’d been hot for a woman, maybe even needed a woman, but never had he longed to climb deep into her heart and pull himself inside. Never had he wanted to completely surround himself, body and soul, with a woman.
His clothing felt tight and cumbersome as he lifted Julia and placed her on the bed. Standing over her, he marveled at his desire to devour her whole and then consume her again, over and over, tonight, and tomorrow night, and every night after that.
Understanding that she was hesitant, Chad pushed down his raging hunger in a concerted effort to think. He knew that he shouldn’t approach her like he had other women. She seemed ready and willing, but that wasn’t enough with her. He wanted her to feel the same way about him. This wasn’t a night of sport, fun, or anything else frivolous. He wanted her to come to him again and again, and he was unsure how to achieve that outcome. Should he just take her? Stun her, woo her, and engulf her? Or should he tease her, taunt her, and make her tremble with need. Should he speak? Tell her how beautiful she is? Or just show her with his fingers and his mouth?
Julia reached for him and he tumbled to her side and threaded his fingers through her hair. “Julia...” he whispered, nipping kisses along her jaw. “I want you so much.�
� He moved over her, levering his weight on his elbows, and leaned down to taste her, long and deep.
She moaned, her back arching upward to press her body into his heat.
“Oh, baby,” Chad murmured. “You taste so sweet. I want you tonight and every night. I want you beside me, in my bed, in my life.” His fingers skimmed down her neck and along her collarbone, but to his surprise, she stiffened under him and her eyes popped open.
His mind told him to hesitate and calm her, sooth her back into the moment, but his body wasn’t responding to the message. His fingers couldn’t stop their downward journey of discovery and his mouth continued to suckle at Julia’s neck. His hand roamed across her chest and about the time his fingertips contacted a taunt nipple, Julia bucked under him, sputtering for him to get off her, her fists flailing on his back.
Finally, Julia’s wide panicked eyes came into focus, and he rolled off her, dragging air into his lung as he willed his brain to engage.
She tried to jump off the bed, but he lunged after her to grab her wrist. “Wait, Julia, just stop for a minute!” he gasped.
She tugged at his grasp, her other hand trying to peel his fingers away.
“Julia! I’m not going to hurt you!”
His words finally seemed to pierce her frenzy, and she stopped thrashing and pulling.
Chad changed his grip from her wrist to her hand, and patted the bed beside him, allowing her to make the choice to sit.
Eyeing him warily, Julia perched cautiously on the end of the bed. As she calmed and her breathing slowed, she appeared to be embarrassed, and wouldn’t meet Chad’s eye.
This is a new one, he thought, searching through his past experience with women, grappling desperately for an idea of what he should do next.
“I’m sorry,” Julia muttered. “You must think I’m crazy.”
Chad shook his head. “No, I think you’re hot as hell.”
Her head rose and her white face came into view in the dim light. “Oh, well, you kinda freaked me out back there.” Her hand waved vaguely toward the center of the bed.
Chad sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. “Look, Julia, I’m sorry. I guess I read you wrong. Again.”
It was her turn to shake her head. “No, you read me right.”
His hands dropped to his lap. “So, what happened? I’m confused.”
Julia stood and paced by the bed wringing her hands. “I don’t think you really know me.”
Chad stared at her in shock. “What?”
She perched back on the end of the bed. “You don’t know who I was before, and you don’t really know much about me now. I’m not like you think.”
“What do I think?”
“I was different before I got sick. Really different. You would have hated me.”
Chad shook his head. “Well, who cares? I don’t hate you now.”
“It feels weird,” she argued. “I feel like a fraud.”
Chad leaned across the bed to take her hand. “Julia, I like everything I have seen about you here and now. I want to know all about you. I want you in my life.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
Julia stood, pacing again, her mouth working to form words. She tromped to the end of the bed and bent to open the chest. Reaching inside she pulled out a stack of small notebooks with rubber bands carefully binding each one closed. Returning to the bed, she poured the stack onto Chad.
He lifted one and held it up. “What are these?”
“My life,” she said flatly.
“I don’t get it,” he said in exasperation. “What are you talking about?”
“Open it.”
“Okay,” Chad drawled, pushing the rubber band off one end of a notebook. He opened to the center page and found a date scrawled carelessly across the top of the page, and under it a hastily written list of tasks which included wash dishes, feed Ringo, water plant, eat lunch, medication. The list went on and on, filling the page, and each item had been marked off with a line through it.
“Who wrote this?” he asked, looking up at Julia.
“I did.”
He scratched his head. “Were you in a hurry or something?”
She sighed, relieved that even though this was painful, the web of secrets that held her bound was beginning to unravel. “No, that’s how I write.”
“It is?” Chad asked, then realized he was being rude. “Sorry, I guess I pictured your writing different.”
“See?” she cried, jumping off the bed where she’d perched awkwardly, “I told you I wasn’t what you thought.”
“Calm down, it’s just handwriting.”
“No, it’s not, don’t you see?” She nearly screamed, reaching across the bed to grab a handful of notebooks and shake them at him. “This is my life! This!”
“Everybody feeds the dog and eats lunch,” he said, confused.
Julia tossed the books back onto the bed. “Not the lists, the books! Don’t you see, I don’t function!”
“No, I don’t see,” he answered, anger rising below the frustration. “What am I supposed to see?”
“Chad, listen to me. I have a very limited short-term memory. I honest to God won’t remember to eat lunch if I don’t write it down and mark it off. I can’t make coffee or start a load of laundry without having a system to get through the steps.”
He still looked blank.
“I know it doesn’t seem like laundry needs a system, but believe me, when you have no memory you realize it does! You have to sort the clothes, then put them in the washer and add the soap and start the machine. Never mind remembering you need to go back and put them in the dryer!”
He waited for her to continue, his head beginning to spin.
Pacing again, she spoke with her teeth clenched, slashing her hands in the air. “Have you ever stepped into the shower and not known what to do? Needed a drink of water and had no idea where to get one?” She stopped and leaned on the edge of the bed, her eyes bright with tears. “Have you ever had to go look at the front of your house to know your address?”
Chad shook his head. “Are you telling me that those things happen to you?”
“Every day!” she ground out, tossing her hands. She turned from the bed, then swung back around. “Now you know! I’m handicapped, disabled, broken, whatever politically correct word you want to use.”
His ears ringing, Chad scooted to the edge of the bed and dropped his feet over the edge. “Is this because of the encephalitis?” he asked.
The question deflated the anger and emotions feeding Julia’s tirade, and she melted onto the floor, her head in her hands. Chad lowered himself slowly to sit beside her. “Is it, Julia? Tell me about before you got sick.”
Sobs wracked Julia’s shoulders, but she looked up, tears streaming off her chin. Desperate to make him understand. “I was smart,” she cried. “I graduated at the top of my class, had a fantastic job. I was—I was—”Wrenching tears took over her confession.
Gently Chad scooped her into his lap, rocking her as she cried.
“Julia, I’m sorry this happened to you,” he murmured, smoothing his hands over her hair.
Her muffled voice continued. “They shaved my head. I was ugly—my own husband didn’t want me.”
“You could never be ugly,” he soothed, as his heart broke and fell around him. Clinging to her, Chad wished he could somehow reverse the horror that had befallen such a sweet person. “You didn’t deserve this, sweetheart,” he whispered into her hair.
Julia lurched back, her eyes huge. “But I do! I do deserve it. I was mean and petty and judgmental. I thought I could do anything, have anything.”
Taken aback, Chad paused. “Well, nobody deserves to get sick, Julia, I don’t care how you were, you didn’t get sick because you weren’t nice. You can’t think like that.”
“You don’t understand,” she sobbed, burying her face back in his chest.
For what seemed like hours, Chad held Julia on hi
s lap, rocking and soothing her, reassuring her that she was okay, to go ahead and cry, and that he didn’t care if she had to use a notebook; but in his heart he knew that he could never have a relationship with her. Not until she could believe in her own heart that she was worth loving.
Leaning his head back against the wall to stare at the ceiling, Chad felt absolutely helpless. Holding Julia tight, he could do nothing but will hope and comfort into her fragile body.
Chapter Fifteen
Julia leaned one hip against the hutch in the kitchen and rubbed the back of her wrist across her forehead as she watched coffee trickle into the pot. The rich steamy smell of the brew carried a hint of normalcy to her swollen and tender heart. Tugging her bathrobe tighter across her chest, she sighed then leaned her elbows on the counter in front of the coffeemaker and dropped her forehead into her palms.
What had she done? Bared her soul, that’s what she’d done. The last few drips of coffee dribbled into the pot, urging Julia to straighten and pull a delicate china cup from behind the wavy glass doors of the hutch. She knew the cup had been designed for tea, but this was a coffee morning, no question.
Once her cup had been enhanced with a dash of half and half and a liberal helping of sugar, Julia snatched an ornate spoon from the dish drainer on the sink and stirred her coffee as she wandered to the living room. As she paused in the doorway to speculate on her new furniture, the sound of mewing kittens mingled with her thoughts, and a weak smile tilted up one corner of her mouth. Even through her emotional fog, the simple pleasures of her new home filled her heart.
She padded to the sofa and bent to arrange a pile of rosebud-covered pillows, then dropped down onto the cushions and snuggled her back deeper into the pillows. Sipping from her steaming cup tentatively with a flinch, she gently plopped first one slippered foot and then the other onto the coffee table. Languidly she stretched, inhaling the scent of home and coffee, the night before spinning through her mind in fragments and flashes.
Hometown Series Box Set Page 47
