"Gavin! Stop! You're making me feel very uncomfortable right now!" She peered through the cracks between her fingers. "Sharon, make him stop."
"What? Does this make you nervous?" Gavin held up his arm and flexed some more. "Frightened and confused? It'll make that guy you're talking about nervous, too, I'll bet. You just let me know if I need to handle things, okay?"
Juliette rolled her eyes. "Can you see the headlines? Student Defends Secretary's Honor in Front Lawn Flex-off. Oh, the publicity we could generate for this school!"
Gavin smirked and sat down again. "Okay, fine. I won't go hunt this guy down. But I have a question then. Why do you ladies let men treat you disrespectfully? What happened to chivalry and all that knights in shining armor stuff? Isn't that what girls dream about? Someone who will ride into town and fight for them?"
Juliette stopped smiling and stared at him, caught off guard by his direct questions. Finally, Sharon spoke up.
"Wow, Gavin. How did you get so insightful, so...."
"Philosophical?" The young man asked, grinning broadly. "Well, I didn't learn it in school, that's for sure. This place is full of ladies who don't respect themselves, and don't expect their men to respect them either." He shrugged. "You want to hear something funny? When I was a kid, my dad was taking some night classes at college, and for the longest time, I thought he was studying to be a knight. You know, a knight in shining armor. When I asked my mom about it, she said he was doing just that; studying to be her knight, her champion, so that he could take better care of the queen of his castle. Cool, huh?"
Sharon's eyes had grown soft as she listened to him. "Very cool," she murmured.
"I know a lot of people think I'm just a big buffoon out there having too much fun, but I'm actually on a quest, you know?" He stretched his arms up over his head, then laced his fingers behind his neck, his white t-shirt stretched tightly over his chest. He seemed very relaxed at the moment; quite different than he had a few moments ago when he'd spoken of Kelly. "Only here's the thing: I'm looking for dragons to defeat, and battles to win, and a damsel in distress to rescue, but this place seems in short supply of all three. Dude, I want to be a champion but there seems to be little demand for them these days."
Sharon stood up and came around her desk and planted her petite form right in front of Gavin, suddenly very serious. Even though he was sitting, they were almost eye-to-eye. "Listen to me, young man. Don't you ever give up that quest, do you hear? There is a girl out there waiting for you to rescue her. She may not realize it yet, but inside of her there's that little girl your mom told you about, who's longing to be fought for, to be chosen." She reached out and poked one of his elbows, the least offensive spot on the guy's body she could think of, Juliette was certain. "I like you, Gavin," Sharon stated. "I just didn't know why until today."
Gavin grinned, then glanced past Sharon to the girl who'd appeared in the doorway. He straightened in his seat, running a hand over his hair. "Hey, Kelly."
"Hi, Gavin." She smiled shyly at him. "Did you turn your stuff in?"
He beamed proudly. "Yeah. And Juliette didn't believe it was my work."
"Oh, it's his, all right," Kelly turned to Juliette. "He's been working really hard at it for the last several days now."
"I couldn't have done it without your help, though."
"You did most of it on your own. I just showed you how to organize it."
"Yeah, but you have to admit, I'm pretty unorganized."
"Okay. You are unorganized."
"Um, hello?" Juliette interrupted. "Did you need something, Kelly?"
"Oh. No. That's okay. I didn't mean to interrupt. I have to get to the library anyway. They're holding a book for me, and I told them I was on my way."
Gavin jumped up. "I'll walk with you." And the two of them headed out into the hall without so much as a goodbye.
"I just caught a whiff of romance in the air." Sharon strode back to her own desk and eyed Juliette across the room. "Is that what you had in mind when you paired them up?"
"Actually, no. I thought she was all but married to her guy, and I would never have pegged Gavin as her type. After listening to him today, though, I think he might even be my type," Juliette chortled. "So, honestly, were you at all surprised by what came out of his mouth?"
"Uh, yeah. Completely blown away. Wow."
Juliette stuck out her bottom lip. "I want a Gavin, Sharon. Not Gavin, Gavin—I feel dirty even saying that—but a man who thinks that way. I want a champion so badly it hurts, Sharon. I want a man to rescue me, to choose me, a man who will claim me and make me his queen. I know I sound completely backward in this modern age we live in, but Gavin's right. What happened to chivalry?"
"No word from Victor, hm?" It wasn't a question, not really. It had been weeks, and she'd heard nothing from him.
"Nope. I kissed the guy, and he ran for his life." She'd gone over the events of that night too many times to count, trying to figure out what she'd done wrong. "He said I made him crazy, so maybe that really is the problem. Maybe I just scared him off." She rubbed her dry eyes, scratchy from fatigue and frustration. "I guess I just thought he'd fight a little harder for me, for us."
"Maybe it's not completely his fault," Sharon suggested quietly. "I mean, sometimes we women don't believe we're worth fighting for. And if we don't believe it, then why should they? Gavin made another good point when he said that no one wants a champion anymore."
Juliette looked sharply at her friend, a question in her eyes. "Is that what you think? Do I put that message out?"
"I don't know, Juju. I haven't seen you with Victor. But I do know how you were with Mike, and you catered to him as though he was the only one who counted in your relationship." Sharon shook her head. "It wasn't like that at the beginning. I remember him fighting for you, even going toe-to-toe with Phoebe several times."
Juliette remembered a few of those encounters, too. Where did that Mike go?
"But then Mike stopped fighting. He made you pick up the weapons instead. And when a man stops fighting for something, or someone, the value of it diminishes in his eyes. Men like Chris, and like Gavin—Wow. Did I just call Gavin a man?—are prepared to fight for the long haul. Their weapons are an extension of themselves, and they never let down their guards."
"Well, Victor isn't like Mike, that's for sure. He's definitely the champion sort. He's just not fighting for me, that's all." Juliette sighed. "At least he didn't take ten years to make up his mind."
"Juliette."
"So why won't these guys fight for me?" She was desperate to know what was wrong with her that she wasn't worth fighting for.
"Think about what he said, Juju. Maybe he actually is scared because you push him to fight for you. Maybe he hasn't had to do that before. Maybe you need to remind him of why you're worth fighting for."
"I don't want to have to remind someone to fight for me." Juliette shook her head. She straightened the items on her desk and ran a tissue over the screen of her monitor.
"That's not really fair, is it? Every man needs to be reminded of why he's fighting, and what, and who he's fighting for, even the best of them. That's our part of the relationship; to encourage, to empower, to offer sanctuary. Real relationships aren't one-sided."
"I have Tootles now, you know." Juliette quipped.
"You do have Tootles."
"Although I would have preferred a champion without fur and a wagging tail that knocks things off the coffee table. Or one who whines all night when I lock him in the garage. Not that I'd lock my champion in the garage. That wouldn't be right."
"No, that wouldn't." Sharon eyed her across the room. "So have you been back to Saturday church at all since Peterson Pie Night?"
"No," Juliette picked up Gavin's folder and leafed through it again. "Victor knows where I live."
"Juliette Gustafson, you are the most stubborn person I've met in my life." Sharon laced her fingers together and leaned her elbows on her desk. "Maybe he's afraid t
hat you're having second thoughts. Maybe he's been sitting in church, watching for you, waiting for some sign that you'll say yes again. In fact, I'll bet you a million Twinkies—"
Juliette couldn't stop the tears that welled up and spilled over. She didn't think she could be any more heart-broken than she'd been over Mike, but Victor's silence was crushing her, and she couldn't bear the thought of going to church to look for him, only to have it confirmed he was intentionally avoiding her.
"I'm sorry. I'm a jerk." Sharon shoved away from her desk and came around to perch on the edge of Juliette's. "But maybe this guy is your champion, Juju. Maybe you're just not giving him the chance to slay any dragons for you." Sharon patted her hand where it rested on the desk. "Go to church this Saturday, Juju. Go before it's too late for both of you."
JULIETTE STAYED UP as late as she could, doing everything she could think of to wear Tootles out. But the problem with her plan was that she was wearing out much quicker than the dog. Before long, she was sprawled on the couch, staring glumly at the dog chasing his tail in the kitchen. "What? Did you sleep all day while I was gone? No. Bad Tootles! Bad!"
He scampered across the room to her and licked her shoulder. She sighed, grabbed a hold of the collar around his neck, and headed out to the garage with him. She dropped down onto the blanket that was now his, and pulled the dog down beside her. He let her scratch his belly while she talked quietly to him.
"Okay, Tootles, here's the deal. I need some sleep tonight. No whining, or barking, or trying to break down the door, okay? It's only for two more nights and then I'll fix the gate and you can sleep in the kitchen again, I promise." She'd ordered a replacement part online at lunch, and paid more for 2-day air shipping than she had for the hardware itself.
It was to no avail. The moment she pulled the door closed behind her, Tootles began to whimper. Hardening her heart, she covered her ears, and hurried to get ready for bed.
She could hear him through both the garage door and the bedroom door. "You lived on the streets!" she wailed. "My garage is a mansion compared to what you're used to!"
An hour later, Tootles was still at it. Periods of promising silence would erupt into long, gut-wrenching howls that ended with forlorn yapping, and she could stand it no longer. She pushed herself up and made her way in the dark to the garage. Tootles came bounding inside, rubbing up against her, licking her hands and knees in his relief at seeing her. She headed to the couch and plopped down, throwing her legs up on an armrest, a pillow behind her head.
There was a knock on the door, and the dog began to bark ferociously, lunging at it.
"Tootles! Stop it! Down! Quiet!" The string of commands was completely ignored, and he seemed frantic to get at whoever was on the porch. Juliette pulled aside the curtain at the window and peered out.
Victor Jarrett.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
JULIETTE COULDN'T BELIEVE it. "Look at him," she railed under her breath as she eyed him through the peephole. "Standing there like...like nothing's any different than it was the last time he stood there!" She couldn't believe how angry she suddenly was.
She flipped on the porch light and yanked the door open after getting a good grip on the dog's collar. "What have I done this time?"
Victor squinted a little in the sudden brilliance of the bulb over his head, but remained calm even as the dog tried to rip Juliette's arm off to get to him. "Good evening, Ms. Gustafson."
So it was back to Ms. Gustafson. Two could play that game. "It's not evening, Officer Jarrett. It's morning."
"Good morning, then. I'm here because of a noise complaint." He spoke in clipped tones that made her blood boil. Juliette pressed her lips together and peered up at him, knowing exactly what noise he referred to, but waiting for him to explain anyway. Her anger suddenly dissipated, replaced by shock and concern.
Under the light, he looked awful. The skin under his eyes was deeply shadowed, almost bruised, and his jaw was tight. He looked like he needed a nap, a shave, and a good, hot meal.
"Are...are you all right?" she asked before she caught herself, leaning forward just a little to be sure it wasn't just the light playing tricks on her.
"I'm fine." His curt reply made her step back, and he glanced down at the pad he held in his hand. "We've had a complaint about—" He stopped and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers. "It says here you have a pack of wolves locked in your garage. Is this," he indicated the agitated Tootles. "One of them?"
"A pack of wolves? Are you serious? First I'm a call girl, then I operate a motorcycle gang, and now I'm zookeeper? Mrs. Cork is certifiably insane, okay? But then, so are you because you, Officer Meanie Man Jerkett, actually believe her!" She let go of the dog. "Bite him, Tootles."
But Tootles defied her yet again, and threw himself against Victor's legs, thumping him with his tail, and burying his nose in all the inappropriate places, lavishing wet kisses all over his boots and kneecaps. Juliette rolled her red eyes and groaned.
"Oh, great. We've got a dog whisperer on the force." She was beyond caring how she sounded. He was here in the middle of the night, accusing her of housing wild animals, and acting as though the most incredible kiss in the whole world hadn't taken place only inches from where they were standing. "Apparently my dog likes you a whole lot better than I do."
"Not getting much sleep?" he asked gently. "You look exhausted. I take it he's new." The man was trying to be nice, but she wasn't having any of it.
"I'm not getting any sleep right now because I'm standing here in the wee hours of the morning, warding off friendly neighborhood defamation charges from a man who has spent way too much time on my front porch. Go away, Officer. I'll keep Tootles quiet. You can assure Mrs. Cork that he won't disrupt her beauty sleep anymore." Juliette grabbed the dog's collar and glared up at the officer. "And just for the record, you don't look so great yourself. Maybe you should get some beauty sleep, too."
Victor studied her, his expression sympathetic. Finally, he tore off the top page from the pad in his hand and held it out to her. "Just a warning this time. The next call regarding a noise violation will warrant a ticket, okay?" He hesitated a fraction of a minute before continuing. "And please understand, Ms. Gustafson. I don't want to have to visit your front porch any more than you want me to. Just keep him quiet, okay?"
His voice was soft, weary, but his words sank like a stone to the pit of her stomach. Victor reached down and ruffled the fur of the dog standing between them. "You're a good watchdog, aren't you, buddy? A little loud, but you'd scare off a bad guy."
"Oh, yeah." Juliette rolled her eyes again, crossing her arms against the chill in the air. "Look how scary he is. What kind of watchdog licks kneecaps and drools on the bad guys' boots?"
"I'm not the bad guy, Juliette," Victor said, straightening up and hooking his thumbs in his pockets, but not taking his eyes off the dog.
"The verdict is still out on that one, remember?" She wasn't joking this time.
Victor grimaced, then tipped his head to meet her eyes. "Does that mean there's still hope for me?"
Now it was her turn to stare down at the dog. She didn't know what to say to him. He'd kissed her, and abandoned her without so much as an explanation, and now he stood here on her front step asking her to believe he was one of the good guys? Who was he kidding?
Finally he cleared his throat and took a step backward. "I'm happy to see that you have a dog. It's good to know I have a little help when I can't be everywhere at once."
He really did look awful, and now she saw something in his eyes besides fatigue. Was it regret? Her traitorous heart softened just the tiniest bit.
"Well, he's clearly happy to see you, too." She clung to her recalcitrance, but her tone was kinder. "You two make a good team, keeping me up all night long. I should make you take him with you, since you seem to get along so well."
She pushed the dog inside, then turned around to face him, pulling the door nearly closed behind her so just the dog's nose
stuck out between her knees. "Look, I'm terribly tired and Tootles is terribly not. We'll figure it out, I promise. If I survive." She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. "Can a person die of sleep deprivation?"
"It's a slow and painful way to go." He sounded like he was talking from personal experience.
"Lovely. Thanks for giving me something to look forward to."
The corners of his mouth twitched a little, but that was all. He simply stood there for several moments, just long enough for her to wonder if she should speak, then he cleared his throat again. "I, uh, haven't seen you in church lately."
She shook her head. "I haven't been the last few weeks. Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize to me. I was just saying I'd noticed. I'm glad you're okay. I'll stop worrying now."
"No, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me." But the thought of him thinking about her made her feel a little light-headed.
"We didn't scare you away, did we?" His voice became even quieter. "Did I?" Juliette looked up at his face, surprised at his genuine concern. Maybe Sharon was right after all.
"Scare me away? No! Michelle and Tom were wonderful, and I don't know if I even thanked them. Or you. You went out of your way to be kind to me, Vic—Officer. Most people just turn and look the other way when they see someone hurting. You didn't. So thank you."
"I'm not most people." He didn't catch her stumble over his name, or it no longer mattered.
"No." She shook her head. "You're not, are you?"
The silence that followed gave her little hope, and she pulled the edges of her robe closer in a subconscious effort to protect her heart. The night was chilly, and the darkness that settled just outside the circle of light from her porch felt unfriendly and cold.
Victor tipped his head toward the dog. "You know, Michelle is really good with dogs. I know she'd enjoy helping you with ... well, with ... your dog."
"Tootles."
"Yes. Anyway, she—"
"His name is Tootles." Why wouldn't he say the dog's name? "Too-tles." She said it slowly, as though teaching him a new word.
Juliette and the Monday ManDates Page 20