by Abby Brooks
“Yeah, but it’s a damn good mug.”
“It is a mighty fine mug.”
Juliet beamed. She loved that mug. She had no idea why, it was just a chunky thing she’d picked up from a vendor on the street, but it was one of the first things she’d ever bought herself. “It’d be too much to hope that you like your coffee with cream and sugar so we could share, right?”
“Cream and sugar? I’m sorry, I can’t be with someone who does that to her coffee.” Ian shook his head disdainfully and leaned back on 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 a little ‘I told you so’ look and pressed off the counter.
“Well, here’s the thing, Lt. Moore, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll show you what years of supporting myself through college has 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 made his coffee in her favorite chunky mug, stopping to make sure she added the right amount of cream and then smiled as she reached up 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 and 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,” Ian said, laughter in his voice, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Now, almighty Queen of Not Enough Stuff, just how on Earth are you going to cook us a 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 somewhere in 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 working its way across her cheeks. How is it that he’s able to make her come so undone? How is it that he manages to get in under her practiced exterior and leave her speechless time and time again? She bent to grab a baking sheet out from under the stove, totally aware that her t-shirt had ridden up and was showing 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 showed her 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 and started mixing 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 make it without a lot of disposable income. Biscuits are 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.
“Okay,” Ian said after taking a drink of his coffee. “It’s time for another round of the Get to Know You Game.” Lulu wandered over to him and stood on her hind legs, put her front paws on his leg, and wagged her tail furiously. Ian absently scratched her head and Juliet smiled. Michael would have kicked the little dog away, complaining about dog hair on his suit pants or any other number of annoyances.
“Sounds good.” Juliet 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 wow Ian this morning. “You go first.” She put her egg pan on the stove and turned on the burner.
“How come you had to support yourself through college?”
“You really go for the tough questions, don’t you?” Juliet smiled at Ian over the edge of her bowl of coffee.
“Enquiring minds,” he said, flaring 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 had the whole BDSM contract with Michael Phillips thing she should probably save her pass for.
“Oh, no. You told me passing would only make you more curious than you already were.” Julz sprayed the egg pan with some 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 filled the open kitchen while sunlight streamed in through the windows, splashing light on the floor and walls. The contrast of this morning against the cold and razor sharp mornings she’d had in New York was powerful. “Why did I have to support myself?” she asked as she slid the first egg out of the pan and cracked a second. “It was the only choice I had. 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 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 about what I was doing.” Juliet pulled the biscuits and bacon out of the oven and went to work making breakfast sandwiches that she then plated and served.
It took a lot out her to make those statements and not get emotional. She took a bite of her egg sandwich to try to work around the lump forming in her throat. 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.
Ian eyed her and she could see an army 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 had left its mark on her, but she wasn’t going to keep letting it 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’m going to want to,” she replied before she knew what she was saying. Good lord. Way to get clingy. Another bite of sandwich and a long, awkward drink of coffee to cover up her embarrassment. “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 her question. She had wanted to keep the atmosphere light, not dredge up old pain points. Ian 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 crash landed. The plane was mangled 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 out. And the damn thing caught fire and I kept right on trying until my hands burned, but I finally had to give up and leave him.”
Juliet set her sandwich down on her plate. “Shit. I’m sorry.” How else could she respond to that? What could she say in the wake of such awfulness? Here she was carrying around the scars of a family that loved her but didn’t coddle her, and he’s smiling through tragedy like that.
Ian looked her in the face and finally smiled, leaned forward and took another bite of his breakfast, moaning in appreciation. By the time he swallowed, the darkness had left his eyes. “I’m okay, I really am. I just chose not to fly anymore in order to make a clean break. Rebuild myself and my life and not live 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 must keep moving.”
“Einstein said that. It’s one of my favorite quotes.”
Ian smiled. “Mine, too. Next question. 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? Anymore 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 a good one! 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 they joked and the coffee had long gone cold when Ian finally stood up 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 one bit. But, she’d already done the strange, clingy thing once this morning. No need to do it again. She gathered the dishes from the table while Ian located the rest of his clothes. It was a definite shame to cover up a chest like that with a shirt, even though he still looked hot as hell as he raked his hands through his hair, trying to set it to rights.
“I’ll see you in the morning?” she asked as they headed towards the door.
Ian took a step back and let his eyes 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 do that throughout the day.”
“Sold.” Ian kissed her forehead and stepped out of the embrace
“You have a nice day, Lt. 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 into the playful Ian Moore reappeared and he 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 through the door and hopped into his car, waving as he pulled out of the driveway. Juliet closed 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 up into her arms. “Whatever this is, I’m going to enjoy it while I have it.”
Chapter Eighteen
If Ian wanted her wearing next to nothing in the morning, well, she’d surprise him and do just that. She had a bikini and some little shorts that she’d wear when he showed up, but that meant she’d need to go up to the bath for some personal grooming. Carrying Lulu up with her, Juliet hummed to the dog, just a silly little melody she’d made up when she was a child and kept in her head as she grew. It made her happy. Always had. And it came to her when she was happiest.
The dog’s nails clicked on the tile when Julz set her down. “Not exactly spa quality, but we’ve been in worse, haven’t we?” Juliet asked and Lulu cocked her head to the side as if to agree. Dirt caked on 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 walls an obscene gold.
But all that was fixable. It wouldn’t take much. Juliet could clean the dirt and paint the walls. She was sure Ian knew how to replace the tile and wouldn’t be surprised to learn he could replace the sink and tub as well. Still humming she filled the bath and climbed in, sighing as the water made its way up to her shoulders. As she shaved, she grew quiet, the happy melody chased away by worrisome thoughts she didn’t even know she was having until she realized she’d stopped singing.
What if Ian was actually another alpha male who wanted to control her, to hurt her, to make her his and take her away from herself? He seemed kind and giving … sure he was confident and liked to take charge, but he didn’t seem like … well … an asshole like Michael. But, she only met him a few days ago. Anyone can fake a persona for a few days. Right?
Her heart argued with her head, pointing out all the good things he’d done for her, all the ways he’d made her feel special and cared for. But her head went right ahead and pointed out just how those good things proved Ian was dangerous. He had ordered for her at the restaurant. He had brought her furniture without asking if it was okay. He had gripped her hands above her head, trapping her against the door and only held tighter when she’d squirmed. And then, he’d smacked her right on the ass. Hard.
And those things were all true, but he’d known what the specialty was at the restaurant. And she’d needed furniture. And she liked having him hold her wrists like that. It made her lower muscles clench even now, just thinking about it. And the smack on the ass? He’d followed it up by rubbing his hand over the spot, soothing her, and then plunging his fingers inside her and making her feel muscle-quiveringly good before he’d gone ahead and done it again. And she had liked that too.
Thing is, just because she liked it didn’t mean it was good for her.
Right?
She’d just have to take it easy 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 would, what? Move out? She laughed a little, the sound echoing against the tile and bit her lip. That would have to be something she decided if she ever got to that point.
If.
If she ever got to that point.
Ian Moore was not Michael Phillips.
And for that matter, Ian had more reasons to judge Juliet than she ever had to judge him. She shuddered to think about what he might do if he found out about all the things she’d done with Michael. It didn’t matter at all that she didn’t like what he had done. What mattered was that she had let him do it.
Julz puffed out her cheeks and let the water out of the tub. So much for that great day she thought she was going to have. These were some awfully heavy thoughts for a day with no deadline but bedtime. Time to stop dwelling on dark topics and start enjoying getting to live right next to the ocean. She slipped on her bikini, grabbed a towel, some sunscreen, sunglasses, and her cellphone and then stepped out the back door and still had to shield her eyes against the sun. Ian was right, it was a hot one. And it was barely April! She’d still be wishing for a coat in New York.
She couldn’t help the smile as she crossed the porch, looking down at the section she’d helped Ian repair yesterday. It felt good, seeing those clean sections of strong wood, knowing that she had helped put them there. By the time she finished the short walk down to the beach, her mood had already brightened. It’d be impossible to keep a dark mood with the sun beating down on her shoulders, the wind blowing off the ocean and cooling the sweat that had already formed on her brow.
She dropped her stuff on the beach and kept walking until her toes touched the water. A wave rolled in and frothed around her ankles while the sun glistened out across the miles of blue sea that disappeared into blue sky. Julz raised her arms and took a deep breath and tears of gratitude pricked her eyes. In all her years, she had never felt so happy. So relaxed. She dug her toes into the damp sand, watched the water dig deep holes around her feet and it was like she had finally come home. Like all those years of forcing
a smile were over because, here, in Bliss, her smile just showed up on its own.
Deciding against a swim in favor of stretching out on her towel and baking in the sun, Juliet headed back to her stuff. She sprayed some sunscreen across her body, remembering Ian’s hands and mouth on her breasts, and smiled despite her reservations about him. Picked up her phone and found a text from Ian.
I missed you the moment I walked out your door. Counting the hours until the morning.
Juliet tapped the phone against her smile, feeling good from the inside out. It only took her a moment to figure out how to respond.
You make me feel better than I’ve ever felt.
Of course, she instantly questioned the clingy factor the minute 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 this was his warm up, 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!”
“Well you sound pretty damn relaxed. I take it things went well with Mr. Amazing?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Did you do it? Did you throw caution to the wind and sleep with him?”
“Willow! You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
Willow laughed. “Bullshit. You most definitely tell. Hell, you even told when you were contractually obligated not to.”
Worry clenched Juliet’s stomach. It’d been a long night of drinking followed by a long night of sharing secrets when she’d told Willow about her arrangement with Michael. She trusted Willow, but the fact that she’d gone against her word didn’t sit well with her.
“Stop getting mad at yourself about it,” Willow said after a few seconds of silence on Juliet’s end.
