Coming Home (Vista Falls #4)

by Cheryl Douglas

  “It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

  “I know. I’m not. I do my job because I love it, not for the money.” He still couldn’t believe he’d been paid as much as he had for his apps. He’d developed them for the fun of doing it, not because he’d expected to inspire an entire nation to eat healthier and get fit.

  “Zeke… why did you decide to use your middle name instead of your given name?”

  He rubbed his temple, remembering when he’d made that decision. “I didn’t want to be that guy anymore, the one everyone associated with killing his big brother. I wanted to reinvent myself, be someone new, I guess.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Can you?” He looked down at her sandaled feet, smiling when he saw the cute airbrushed patterns on her silver-painted toes. “I can’t imagine you wanting to be anyone other than who you are.”

  “You’re right. I like who I am. But I think we all go through phases when we wish we could be someone else.”

  “Oh yeah? Who or what did you want to be?”

  “I wanted to be a pediatrician for the longest time. Actually, I was on the track to premed.”

  “What happened?”

  “My father convinced me that following in his footsteps would be a better plan.”

  “Do you ever regret that decision?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken the time to get to know a woman like this. It was a nice change of pace.

  She blew her cheeks out before releasing the air. “No regrets.”

  He thought the gesture was cute. It reminded him of a little girl testing the boundaries. “You ever get to cut loose, Jules?”

  “The other night with you was the first time in a long time.”

  He’d suspected as much. “I’m glad I could provide a release for you then.” He chuckled when she elbowed him in the ribs. “I wasn’t being literal.”

  “I needed that.” She sighed when the phone in her purse rang. “A night where I could forget everything: who I am, my responsibilities, why a woman in my position shouldn’t get tipsy and leave a bar with a handsome stranger.”

  He leaned his shoulder against hers, bending his head to whisper in her ear, “Don’t forget the part where you let that stranger do unspeakably hot things to you.”

  “I’ll never forget that.” She blinked, her expression soft.

  “Neither will I.” He felt his heartbeat quickening as she leaned in. “We’re in public, baby.”

  “I know,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.

  “Anyone could see us.” And he would never do anything to put her career in jeopardy, especially now that he knew how much it meant to her.

  “I know.” Her lips parted before her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip. “But I still want you to kiss me.”

  That was the only invitation he needed. He slipped his hand under her hair, cradling her neck as he tipped her head back and swept his tongue inside her mouth. Kissing her was even better than he remembered because he’d convinced himself it would never happen again. The gentle breeze threatened to lift her short, flowing skirt when she rested her legs on top of his. Placing his hand against her bare thigh to hold her skirt in place, he deepened the kiss, remembering how lucky he’d felt when he’d thrust his hands beneath her skirt and torn off her panties.

  “I want you,” he murmured, grazing her jaw with his lips. “Come over to my place tonight. I’ll get rid of Branson.”

  Her internal struggle seemed to last all of three seconds before she said, “Okay.”

  ***

  Juliette couldn’t believe she was standing on Zeke’s doorstep again, this time with a bottle of wine in hand. He’d texted to invite her to dinner, and since she wanted to spend more time with him, she’d agreed.

  Their talk in the park, not to mention that kiss, had distracted her for the rest of the day. She’d had a mountain of paperwork to read through to prepare herself for the requests being made of her at the upcoming town council meeting, but she couldn’t focus on anything but the taste of Zeke’s lips and the promise of more…

  He opened the door before she could ring the bell. “Hey, did you plan to stand out here all night?”

  “I was just thinking…” She smiled when he took the bottle and pulled her into his arms.

  “About what?”

  “The way you make me feel.”

  “Oh yeah?” He kissed her gently. Nothing like the kiss in the park that had curled her toes, the kiss was sweet and tender, as if they had all the time in the world. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot myself, the way you make me feel.”

  “Tell me.” She wanted to know she wasn’t in this crazy, scary adventure all alone.

  “I will.” He tugged her inside. “Eventually.” When she slipped out of her heels, he asked, “How’s the ankle?”

  “Better.” She peeked into the adjoining living room. “Where’s Branson?”

  “He said something about calling a girl he met at Rusty’s the other night, maybe grabbing dinner and catching a movie.”

  “So we have the whole place to ourselves, huh?” she asked, slipping her arm around his waist as he led her into the kitchen. Being with him felt strange, almost as if he were her boyfriend, but he wasn’t.

  “Yeah.” He set the bottle of wine on the counter before brushing her hair over her shoulders so he could kiss her neck.

  “What are we doing?” she asked, fisting his T-shirt.

  “Uh…”

  “A couple of days ago, we agreed not to see each other anymore, yet here we are acting as if we’re, I don’t know, dating?”

  Faint lines appeared around his eyes when he smiled, and Juliette was mesmerized. Every single little thing about him was sexy to her.

  “It might be hard to date since we’re not supposed to be seen together.”

  Juliette knew it had to hurt, believing he was her dirty little secret. “It’s not that I’m ashamed of our… friendship.” She cleared her throat, hoping she’d opted for the right word. “I’m not. I like you. I like spending time with you, and I’m so impressed by everything you’ve accomplished.”

  “But…?”

  “For starters, I’m terrible at this dating thing. I cancel at the last minute, forget to call back. A time or two, I’ve even stood a date up because I worked right through and forgot about it.”

  “Huh.” He ran his lips down her neck, making her shiver. “I guess I’ll just have to see what I can do to make sure you don’t forget about me then.”

  She knew there was no chance of that happening. She’d thought of little except him since they met. In fact, that afternoon, she’d been counting down the minutes until she could see him again.

  “You’re a distraction,” she said, curling her hands around his biceps when he popped the first button on her sleeveless cotton blouse so he could gain access to her cleavage. “That’s not good. I can’t afford a distraction. I need to stay focused.”

  “Right… focused.”

  Her buttons were popping, and she had no desire to stop his exploration, which proved just how wishy-washy she was where this man was concerned.

  “Juliette.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Look at me.”

  She forced her eyes open. “What’s wrong?”

  “You tell me. What’s so wrong with this? Since when is it wrong to feel good? Since when is it wrong to be with someone who distracts you, who makes you laugh, who reminds you that there’s more to life than work?”

  His questions made it hard to breathe. She claimed to want a life outside of work, but did she? She claimed to want love and more balance in her life, but did she really? That would mean taking a chance, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to do.

  “You scare me.” Those might have been the three most terrifying words she’d ever uttered since she’d never told a man she loved him.

  “I scare you?” He stepped back. “Care to explain?”

  Given h
is history, she realized she should have chosen her words more carefully. “It’s not that you scare me. It’s just that, um, this thing between us kind of scares me.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it’s the way you make me feel for starters. You touch me, and I forget everything. Who I am, what I am, my responsibilities and… everything. You make me forget everything.”

  “I like that I make you forget everything.” He gave her a smug smile as he reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “And know that you’re not alone in that. You distract me too.”

  “I do?”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “Of course you do. Ever since we made love, that’s all I’ve been able to think about.”

  “We didn’t…” She shook her head, feeling stupid for trying to correct him. Of course he didn’t mean they’d made love. It was just a silly figure of speech guys used so they wouldn’t risk offending the girls they’d had sex with.

  “We didn’t make love? Is that what you were going to say?”

  Now this is awkward. “It doesn’t matter what you call it. I know what you meant.”

  “I don’t think you do.” He nuzzled her neck. “See, I have sex with girls all the time.”

  “Good to know.”

  He chuckled with his lips pressed against her jaw. “What I mean is sex is meaningless. What we did meant something to me.”

  “Oh.” It had meant something to her too, maybe too much.

  “Oh?” He tipped her head back. “That’s all you’re going to say… oh?”

  She laughed self-consciously, realizing he was the kind of man who enjoyed making people squirm. “What do you want me to say?”

  “I want to know how you felt about it.”

  “I… it was… nice.” She blushed when she realized she couldn’t have chosen a more bland word to describe the hottest night of her life. “Okay, it was better than nice. It was—”

  “Epic?” When she slapped his chest, he grinned. “What? I was only trying to help.”

  “I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of expressing myself.” Except with Zeke. With him, she was worse than a tongue-tied freshman on her first date.

  “Good.” He stepped back, resting his very fine backside on a stool at the breakfast bar as he propped both elbows on the counter behind him. “So let’s hear it.”

  She distracted herself by studying his tattoos. That was when she spotted the black-and-white portrait of his brother on the back of his forearm with the year he was born and the year he died. “That’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you. So are you. That’s why I need to know if you’re as into me as I am you.”

  Her eyes flicked to his, and she could tell he was serious. “I am… into you.”

  “Good.” He reached for her and tucked her between his legs. “Then let me take you upstairs.”

  She gasped, but his words weren’t nearly as shocking as how much she wanted to take him up on his offer. She’d come here for dinner never expecting to be tempted by dessert first.

  “You know you want to, Jules. So what’s stopping you?”

  “Guys and girls aren’t the same when it comes to stuff like this, you know.” She was tracing the ink on his arm with her fingertip, trying to avoid his gaze. “It’s harder for us to do casual. At least it is for me. Things can get messy. Feelings can get hurt when things get too… intense. I know this is only supposed to be for fun, while you’re in town—”

  “When did I say that?”

  “You didn’t have to come right out and say it.” She bit her lip. “I know you have a life back in California that you’re probably headed back to soon.”

  “So?”

  The fact that he thought nothing of it just reinforced the fact that she needed to be careful. “So… my life is here.”

  “I know that. And?”

  “Well, if I’m sleeping with you and you leave town…” She’d never been the jealous type and was ashamed to admit she was feeling possessive of a man she barely knew.

  “You’re worried that I’ll be sleeping with other women?” His expression was unreadable when he said, “Jules, I can’t read your mind. You have to talk to me. If you’re concerned about that, tell me.”

  “Fine, I’m concerned, okay?” She groaned as she dropped her head into her hands. “Ugh! I can’t even believe I just said that. I have no right to expect you to—”

  “Stop.” He kissed her—she assumed to shut her up. “I don’t know where this is going. Neither do you. And I have no plans to leave town in the immediate future. So how about we just focus on enjoying what we have for as long as it lasts. Sound like a plan?”

  A plan. She’d always been a planner. That was why it killed her not to have one. Especially when it came to a man who made her feel out of control so much of the time. “Sure.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.” His hands curled around her shoulders. “If you’re not okay with my proposition, just say so.”

  She considered her options. Walk out and never look back or take a leap of faith and go upstairs with him. “Door number two.”

  He frowned. “Excuse me?”

  She hadn’t intended to say that aloud, and she couldn’t explain what it meant without seeming even stranger than she already did. “I want to be with you.”

  “Good.” He curled his hands around her shoulders. “But I’m rescinding my offer.”

  She blinked, certain she’d heard him wrong. He’d only made one offer, and he couldn’t or wouldn’t take it back now, would he? “Excuse me?”

  “I want you,” he whispered, drawing her closer as he curled his powerful arms around her. “But I don’t want this to be like every other relationship I’ve had—all about the sex. If I take you upstairs now, that’s what it’ll feel like.”

  She considered telling him she was okay with that, but she wasn’t, not really. Her hormones might call her to task on that, but deep down, she wanted more than one more night of unforgettable sex. “Okay, so what do you propose?”

  “That we get to know each other.” He gave her that crooked smile that made her breath hitch. “Not just surface stuff, like your favorite color or sports team. I wanna know what makes you tick.”

  “Makes me tick,” she repeated, licking her lips. His proposal made her nervous. What if he was bored to tears when he got to know the real Juliette? “Well, that would be my work, I guess.”

  “There has to be more to you than that.”

  She dipped her head, ashamed of how one-dimensional her life had become. “Not really.”

  He curled his large hands around her face, tipping it up until she was forced to meet his gaze. “Then we definitely need to do something about that.”

  Chapter Seven

  Just as Zeke had suspected, there was a lot more to Juliette than her work. Over dinner, he’d learned that she’d backpacked through Europe the summer before she started college, spoke three languages, loved classic literature, and listened to Frank Sinatra when she needed to escape the pressures of her job.

  “I can’t believe you made all this,” she said, gesturing to the remnants of their dinner.

  “It’s no big deal.” It was a simple menu: glazed salmon, roasted potatoes, sautéed asparagus, and tossed salad. He hadn’t wanted to spend a lot of time on prep in case she decided to bail on him at the last minute.

  “It is to me,” she said, sitting back with a contented sigh. “I can’t tell you the last time I had a home-cooked meal like this. It was amazing. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” He didn’t cook for women often. Dinner meant a couple of hours of conversation, and he usually didn’t have enough in common with the women he dated to be entertained by them for minutes, much less hours. “You don’t like to cook?”

  “I do,” she said, reaching for her wine glass. “I just don’t have the time.” She gestured to the kitchen, which was open to the dining area where they’d eaten. “Making t
hose muffins for you the other day was the most time I’d spent in a kitchen in ages.”

  “I never got a chance to thank you for those, by the way. They were delicious.” He leaned in to kiss her, a mere brush of his lips against hers. Then he kissed her again. “Addictive.” Just like you. One taste of her sweet lips and he wanted more.

  “If that’s how you say thank you, I’ll have to bake for you more often,” she whispered, her eyes slightly glazed as she pulled back far enough to look at him.

  “I wish you would.” He cupped her face, getting lost in her hazel eyes. “How ‘bout every time we have a sleepover?”

  “So you think there will be more sleepovers in our futures, do you?” she asked, running a hand over the stubble on his jaw.

  “I’m pretty sure there will be.”

  If he had his way, tonight would be their second of many, but he didn’t want to push. He’d meant what he said—he wanted to get to know her better without it being all about the great sex. They’d already proven they were compatible in that department, and he was anxious to learn whether their compatibility extended beyond physical chemistry.

  “Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  He leaned back, grinning. “Shouldn’t I be?”

  “I refuse to answer that,” she said, trying to suppress a smile. “On the grounds I might incriminate myself.”

  “Ugh, not the legalese,” he said, raising a hand. “I’ve heard enough of that to last a lifetime.”

  Her smile slipped. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget what you’ve been through.”

  He’d learned the hard way he’d never get anywhere in life with a victim mentality. He’d played the cards life dealt him when his brother died and had never questioned whether he’d done the right thing. “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. At least I wasn’t locked up for life with a bunch of guys two or three times my age. I could handle myself in juvie. In prison? I’m not so sure.”