by Brooks, Abby
“Cream and sugar? I’m sorry, I can’t be with someone who does that to her coffee.” Ian shook his head in disgust and leaned back against the counter, his abs flexing.
Juliet couldn’t stop herself from staring. “I suppose a pilot with the body of an Adonis and ability to totally tear apart a porch and put it back together again just takes his coffee strong and black.”
“Shows what you know. I like mine with cream.” He gave Juliet an ‘I told you so’ look as he pressed off the counter.
“Well, here’s the thing, Lieutenant Moore, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll show you what years of supporting myself through college taught me.” Juliet poured his coffee while Ian sat at the table, leaning back in the chair and crossing his long legs, his eyes tracking her every movement. She prepared his coffee in her favorite mug, stopping to ensure she added just the right amount of cream, then smiled as she reached into the cabinet for a bowl.
Ian raised his eyebrows. “You’re not serious.”
“Oh, I’m totally serious.” Juliet poured coffee into the bowl, added her cream and sugar, and carefully took a sip, using both hands to keep from spilling. “See,” she said, lowering the bowl to the counter. “Totally works.”
“If you say so.” There was laughter in his voice, but something sad in his eyes. “Now, almighty Queen of Not Enough Stuff, how on earth are you going to cook us breakfast using one little egg pan? I am a man, after all. A man who worked up one hell of an appetite last night.”
Juliet beamed, the smile working its way up from her toes and radiating through her entire body. She wished she had the perfect response, witty and charming, but came up with nothing more than a monstrous blush quickly pinking her cheeks.
How was he able to make her come so undone?
How did he manage to get past her practiced exterior and leave her speechless time and time again?
She bent to grab a baking sheet from under the stove, totally aware that her T-shirt had ridden up, revealing a good bit of her lace panties.
Take that, Ian Moore, she thought. That’s just what you get for making me blush. A quick glance over her shoulder as she straightened confirmed that Ian had definitely noticed the panties. He watched with curiosity as she turned on the oven and took down a large bowl, poured some flour, milk, and just a little butter into it, then mixed with her hands.
“Don’t tell me you’re making homemade biscuits. I thought you were a city girl.”
“A city girl who had to learn to get by without a lot of disposable income. They’re cheap and filling.” After making the biscuits, she plopped a few on the baking sheet and stretched out a few pieces of bacon beside them before sliding it all into the oven.
“Color me impressed.” Ian took a long drink of his coffee, his gaze locked on Juliet. “It’s time for another round of the Get to Know You Game.”
Lulu wandered over to him and stood on her hind legs, placing her front paws on his shin while she wagged her tail furiously. Ian absently scratched her head and Juliet smiled. Peter would have kicked the little dog away, complaining about dog hair on his suit pants or any other number of canine annoyances.
“Sounds good.” She pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and contemplated the rest of her kitchenware. She could make an omelet in the microwave, but that wasn’t exactly delicious, and she really wanted to do something special for Ian that morning. “You go first.” She put her egg pan on the stove and turned on the burner.
“Why did you have to support yourself through college?”
“You really go for the tough questions, don’t you?” Juliet carefully lifted her bowl of coffee and smiled over the edge.
“Enquiring minds.” He flared his hands in an apology. “If it’s not a good topic, feel free to pass.” The wicked grin he gave her told Juliet that passing would be a terrible idea. Plus, as uncomfortable as she was talking about her family, she thought she should probably save her pass for the whole ‘BDSM contract with Peter Vox’ thing.
“Oh, no. You told me passing would only make you more curious than you already were.” Julz sprayed the pan with non-stick oil and cracked an egg. It sizzled as she poured it into the hot pan and the sound mingled with the ever-present rhythm of the waves against the shore. The smell of coffee and bacon and biscuits wafted through the open kitchen as sunlight streamed through the windows, splashing light on the floor and walls.
The contrast against the cold, razor-sharp mornings she’d had in New York was powerful.
“Why did I have to support myself?” She slid the first egg out of the pan and cracked a second. “It was the only choice I had if I wanted to go to college. I wanted to prove I could succeed, that I was worthwhile, and I didn’t have a lot of support from my parents.”
“So, you just did what needed to be done. Learned to make biscuits from scratch and drink coffee out of bowls.”
“That’s exactly what I did. Learned to do things on my own, with what I had at the time. My mom was busy following her dreams, proud that she’d raised such an independent woman, and my dad was too busy with his new family to care what I was doing.” Juliet pulled the biscuits and bacon out of the oven and went to work making breakfast sandwiches which she then plated and served.
It took a lot out of her to make those statements and not get emotional. She’d spent so much time feeling alone. Loved, sure. Her parents loved her, but they didn’t care about her. Not the way she needed them to. She took a bite of her egg sandwich to try to work around the lump forming in her throat.
Ian eyed her and she could see a legion of questions hanging out in the tight spot between his eyebrows. She smiled, not wanting to darken the mood of the morning. Her past was behind her. Sure, it left its mark, but she wasn’t going to keep allowing it to hurt her. Not anymore.
“My turn,” she said while Ian took his first bite.
He groaned and closed his eyes in pleasure. “Oh, Juliet,” he said around a mouthful of biscuit. “You keep feeding me like this and you might never get rid of me.”
“You say that like I’ll want to,” she replied before she knew what she was saying. Nice, Julz. Way to get clingy. Eager to keep the conversation moving, she asked her question. “How come you’re flipping houses instead of flying planes? Flying was your life-long dream, right?”
“Talk about tough questions.” Ian didn’t look at all playful and Juliet regretted asking. She wanted to keep the atmosphere light, not dredge up old pain.
He took a deep breath and let it out before sitting back and running a hand through his hair. He turned his head away from Juliet and gave his answer to the ocean.
“On my last flight, my plane malfunctioned and we went down—crashed. The plane was mangled to hell and my co-pilot was stuck, bleeding and unconscious. I did everything I could to get him out, tore a bunch of ligaments in my back and shoulders trying. But I couldn’t get him free. The damn thing caught fire and I kept trying until my hands burned, but finally…I had to give up. I had to let him go.”
Juliet set her sandwich back on the plate. “Shit. I’m sorry.” How else could she respond to that? What could she say in the wake of such awfulness? There she was carrying around the scars of a family that loved her but didn’t coddle her, and Ian was smiling through tragedy like that.
He met her eyes and finally smiled, leaned forward and took another bite of his breakfast, moaning in appreciation. By the time he swallowed, the darkness was gone from his gaze. “I’m okay, I really am. I just chose not to fly anymore to make a clean break. Rebuild myself and my life without ending up stuck, living in the wake of the accident. We all have things that break us, but we get stronger each time we put ourselves back together. Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you have to keep moving.”
“Einstein said that.” Juliet nodded her approval. “It’s one of my favorite quotes.”
It was, in fact, the one quote she based her life on.
“Mine, too.” Ian smiled. “Next q
uestion. What other quotes do you have rattling around up there?”
Juliet thought for a moment. “Luck is what happens when opportunity meets preparation.”
Ian nodded in appreciation. “Another great one.”
“What about you? Any more inspirational quotes?”
“Milton Berle said ‘if opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door.’ I’ve tried to build my life around that one.”
“Oh, that’s good! I think I kind of live my life that way already.”
“Sounds like it.”
They finished their breakfast while playing the Get to Know You Game. Over and over, they found things they shared in common. Similarities in thought and in their approach to life and the problems that came with living. They laughed and joked, and the coffee had long gone cold when Ian finally scooted his chair back from the table and stretched.
“I don’t think we’re gonna get much work done on the deck today. We’ve talked away the morning and it looks like a hot one out there. I do need to get going though, have a few things I need to get done today.”
Juliet couldn’t help but pout. She didn’t want him to leave. Not for one minute. But she’d already done the strange, clingy thing once that morning, so she gathered the dishes from the table while Ian located the rest of his clothes. It was a shame to see him cover a chest like that with a shirt—even though he still looked hot as hell raking his hands through his hair, trying to set it to rights.
“I’ll see you in the morning?” she asked as they headed toward the door.
Ian stepped back and let his gaze sweep over her body. “Only if you promise to look like that,” he said and pulled her in for a kiss, tracing a hand up her back and wrapping it in her hair, the other one squeezing her breast through the thin fabric of the T-shirt.
“Okay,” she breathed when he finally pulled his mouth from hers. “I’ll promise to look like this as long as you promise to never stop doing that.”
“Sold.” Ian kissed her forehead and stepped out of the embrace.
“You have a nice day, Lieutenant Moore.”
He snapped into a sharp salute, face hard and eyes stoic, jaw set and chest out. “Yes, ma’am!” And then the naval aviator dissolved and the playful Ian Moore reappeared and slid one eye closed in a wink. “Mostly because I’ll be thinking about you.”
And then, before she could think of anything clever to say, he swept out of the house and hopped into his car, waving as he pulled out of the driveway. Juliet shut the door and leaned against it, eyes closed. Chest heaving.
Was this really her life?
Could she finally be on the brink of some kind of happily ever after?
Living out her dream in a home near the sea, with a man who took her breath away every time he came near?
“I don’t know, Lulu,” she said, sweeping the little dog into her arms. “Whatever this is, I’m going to enjoy it while I have it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Juliet
If Ian wanted her wearing next to nothing in the morning, then that was exactly what he’d get. She planned to be wearing her bikini and an itty-bitty pair of shorts when he arrived, but that meant she’d need to perform some personal grooming first.
Carrying Lulu up the stairs with her, Juliet hummed a melody she’d made up as a child and kept in her head as she grew. The tune only came to her when she was happy. It’d been a long time since she thought about it and the fact she was singing it at all said a lot about her state of mind.
Ian was good for her.
The dog’s nails clicked on the bathroom floor when Julz set her down. Dirt caked the edges of the aged tiles and dust gathered in sticky clumps at the walls. Yellow water and rust stains sullied the sides of the tub and sink, and someone had painted the entire bathroom an obscene gold.
“Not exactly spa quality, but we’ve been in worse, haven’t we?”
Lulu cocked her head, one ear sticking straight up, an agreement if Juliet ever saw one.
The bathroom was fixable. It wouldn’t take much effort to deep clean and paint the walls. Ian surely knew how to replace the tile and she wouldn’t be surprised to learn he could replace the sink and tub as well. Still humming, she gave the bath a quick wipe down, then filled it and climbed in, sighing as the water crept its way up to her shoulders. As she shaved, she grew quiet, the happy melody chased away by worrisome thoughts.
What if Ian was actually another alpha male who wanted to control her?
What if his charming exterior hid the need to treat her like property and take away her autonomy?
What if, deep down, he really got off on hurting her?
Her mind balked at the thought. Ian was kind. Giving…
He was also confident and liked to take charge, but he didn’t seem like…well…an asshole like Peter.
But she’d only met him a few days ago.
Anyone could fake a persona for a few days.
Right?
Her heart argued with her head, pointing out all the good things Ian had done for her, all the ways he’d made her feel special and safe. But her head turned the argument around, pointing out how those good things proved exactly why Ian was dangerous.
He ordered for her at the restaurant. He brought her furniture without asking if she wanted it. Hello controlling and goodbye autonomy.
He captured her hands above her head, trapping her against the door and only tightened his grip when she’d squirmed.
And not to be forgotten, he smacked her ass. Hard.
She shook her head as she ran the razor along her leg.
Sure, all those things were true, but each of them could be easily explained away. His brother owned Harrison’s. Ian knew the specialty was delicious and made sure she didn’t miss out. What was so bad in that?
She desperately needed furniture. Where was the problem with him lending her some?
And she liked having him hold her wrists like that. Thinking about it still made her lower muscles clench. As for that smack on the ass? He’d followed it up by rubbing his hand over the spot, soothing her, and making her feel muscle-quiveringly good before he did it again.
And she liked that too.
But…just because she liked it didn’t mean it was good for her.
Right?
Maybe it was best if she slowed things with Ian down. To sit back and pay attention. If it seemed like he was trying to take over her life, or order her around, or—she shivered—got too aggressive with her, then she’d…
…what?
Move out?
Because she had so many other options in front of her…
She laughed a little—the sound echoing against the tile—then bit her lip. That would have to be something she decided later.
If she ever got to that point.
Ian Moore was not Peter Vox.
And for that matter, Ian had more reasons to judge Juliet than she had to judge him. She shuddered to think what he might say if he discovered all the things she’d done with Peter. It didn’t matter that he basically forced her. What mattered was that she let him. It had all been right there in the contract she gleefully signed her name to. Before that, the control had been one hundred percent in Juliet’s hands and she willingly gave it away.
Those were some heavy thoughts for a day with no deadline but bedtime.
Julz puffed out her cheeks and let the water out of the tub. Time to stop dwelling on dark topics and start enjoying the benefits of a beachfront property. She slipped on her bikini, grabbed a towel, some sunscreen, sunglasses, and her cellphone, then stepped out the backdoor and squinted against the sun. Ian was right. It was a hot one. And it was barely April! In New York she’d still be wishing for a coat.
A wide smile broke across her face as she crossed the porch, looking down at the section they’d repaired the day before. Seeing those clean planks of new wood and knowing she helped put them there planted a dose of satisfaction in her heart. By the time she finished the short walk to the beach,
her mood had already brightened. It would take actual effort to stay upset with the sun beating down on her shoulders and the wind blowing off the ocean, cooling the sweat beading on her brow.
She dropped her stuff in the sand and kept walking until her toes touched water. A wave rolled in and frothed around her ankles while the sun glistened across the miles of blue sea that disappeared into sky. Tears of gratitude pricked her eyes. Breathing deeply, she dug her toes into the sand, watching the water dredge holes around her feet and feeling like she’d finally come home. All those years of forcing a smile were over because, in Bliss, her smile showed up on its own.
Deciding against a swim in favor of baking in the sun, Juliet headed back to her stuff. She sprayed sunscreen across her body, remembering Ian’s hands and mouth on her breasts, and smiled despite her reservations. When she picked up her phone to check the time, she found a text from him.
I missed you the moment I walked out your door. Counting the hours until morning.
Juliet tapped the phone against her smile, feeling good from the inside out. It only took her a moment to decide how to respond.
You make me feel better than I ever thought possible.
Of course, she questioned the clingy factor the second she hit send, but brushed the thought away. It only took a few minutes for a text to come back in.
And just think, I’m only getting started.
If the last few days counted as warmup, she couldn’t wait for the real deal. She even considered texting him that, but decided against it and called Willow instead, not even worrying about using her secret code.
Willow picked up after the first ring. “Hey!”
“Hey yourself!”
“You sound pretty damn relaxed. I take it things went well with Mr. Amazing?”
“I guess you could say that.” Juliet leaned back on her elbows, pinching the phone to her ear with her shoulder, and closed her eyes.
“And is that because you took a certain someone’s fantastic advice and slept with a certain hot stranger…?”
Juliet’s eyes flicked open and she bit her lip. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
