Gia leapt up and danced around the room, followed closely by Bob. "Ha! Ren will be green with envy! Yes, I want to go!" She flopped over the back of the sofa and lay sprawled on the cushions. "He's a friend of Taz's, right? I wonder if Ricky knows him. I should call him and find out!" She hopped up again and reached for her purse, but Juliette stopped her, laughing at her exuberance.
"Don't you dare call Ricky, you little nut! All I need is for it to get back to Victor that I'm stalking him and—"
"Victor? You're on first-name bases with him now? Woo-hoo!" Gia jabbed Juliette in her side, and Juliette responded by thumping her with a cushion.
"Pillow fight!" Gia shrieked, jumping up and launching the pillow she held at Juliette.
THEY ARRIVED ALMOST ten minutes early for church, but sat near the back for a speedy getaway. Mrs. Cork worried about leaving Mr. Bobo too long, even though he was hanging out with his new best bud, Bob. Although the plan to duck out quickly dashed any hope of lingering long enough to scout for Victor, Juliette was surprised by how much she was enjoying herself with the other two women.
Right at seven o'clock, the musicians made their way on stage. A young man in blue jeans strapped on his guitar and stepped up to the microphone. Without any introduction, he began to play. The rest of the band and singers joined in, and the chattering around the sanctuary died down as the congregation began to sing along.
Juliette wondered how Mrs. Cork was receiving it all; the casual crowd, the full band on stage, the modern worship songs. She stole a few surreptitious glances at her, but the woman seemed attentive and receptive.
Pastor Eric, in true form, preached a wonderful message from Psalms, and before long, Juliette was swept up in what he was saying. After the last chord of the night was strummed, she turned to her seatmates and nodded, signaling that she was ready to go when they were.
"Well, that was lovely," Mrs. Cork stated as they passed through the sanctuary doors and out into the chilly fall evening. "I didn't want it to end."
Gia reached over and put her arm around the stooped shoulders of the older woman. "I didn't either. That was a wonderful message, wasn't it?" Juliette just grinned proudly, still bemused both by the disclosure of Gia's faith and Mrs. Cork's personality change.
"Juliette!" The sound of Victor's voice brought her up short, and she stopped mid-stride. Was she imagining it? Her eyes met first the question in Gia's, then the delight in Mrs. Cork, who turned and waved demurely at the man rapidly approaching them.
"Hello, Officer Jarrett," the older woman called out.
"Officer Jarrett? The Officer Jarrett?" Gia grabbed Juliette's hand, whispering loudly. "Is it him?"
Juliette squeezed her sister's hand, nodded, and grinned helplessly. They both turned around to wait for him.
"Oh, my." Gia's impressed reaction made Juliette blush.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“HOW ARE YOU, MRS. CORK?" Victor didn't act at all surprised to see the woman at church with Juliette.
"I'm fine, Officer. You look very different in your clothes, Sir."
The silence that followed Mrs. Cork's startling statement was palpable. Gia snickered, then ducked her head to hide behind a curtain of hair. Victor cleared his throat. "Yes. I prefer not to wear the uniform when I'm not on duty." He looked down at his long-sleeved gray shirt and blue jeans. "Helps me blend in with the crowd."
"Don't be silly, Officer. You're too good-looking to blend in anywhere." Mrs. Cork nudged Juliette with her elbow. "I love a man in uniform, but doesn't he look nice in his street clothes?"
Mortified, Juliette dropped her gaze to the pavement. "Yes, Mrs. Cork. He does."
"Thank you, Juliette." She couldn't look at him but she was pretty sure he was grinning like the Cheshire cat. "And thank you, Mrs. Cork. You look very pretty yourself." He turned to Gia, and offered her his hand. "I'm Victor Jarrett."
"I'm Gia Gustafson. Juliette's little sister."
"It's good to meet you. Are you the one who knows Trevor Zander?"
"Taz?" Gia's eyes widened. "Yes! He's my friend's cousin. He's awesome! Do you know him, too?"
"I do. We go way back about ten years or so."
"Cool."
Another awkward silence settled around them while they all exchanged expectant glances. Finally, Juliette couldn't stand it any longer. "Was there something you wanted, Officer?"
"Victor, please. I saw you come in and just wanted to say 'hi.' I'm glad you ladies made it tonight."
"Thank you," she nodded, disappointment bursting the bubble of hope inside her heart. "It was a wonderful service."
"I love the passage your pastor spoke on tonight," Gia added, trying to help things along, but Victor only nodded. Juliette thought he looked like he wanted to say more, but when he remained silent, she spoke, keeping her voice light.
"Well, you two, we should get going. We've got the kids waiting for us at home."
Mrs. Cork glanced down at her watch, worry lines forming in her forehead. "Oh yes. Mr. Bobo must be wondering where I am." She looked up at Victor and explained. "We left the two dogs together in Juliette's back yard, and I can only imagine the kind of trouble they'll dream up if we leave them alone much longer."
"Of course." Victor dipped his head briefly, as though to excuse himself. "You should go. I'll look for you next week, okay?" He took a step back, but Mrs. Cork put a hand out.
"Officer Jarrett, I may be old, but I'm not blind, and I can see the way you're looking at our Juliette. Why don't you invite her out for coffee? Or mocha latte twice removed, or whatever it is you kids drink now-a-days."
"Mrs. Cork!" Juliette wanted to dissolve into the pavement right where she stood. And Gia? She was no help either, her hand over her mouth, giggling like a schoolgirl. "I think it's time to go home, ladies. Now." She spun on her heels and began to walk away.
"Juliette!" Gia cried. "Wait!"
"Juliette!" Mrs. Cork scolded. "Come back here, honey."
But it was Victor's voice that made her falter. "Juliette." Why did her name sound like a caress when he said it? And then his hand was on her elbow and he was walking beside her.
"What do you want, Off—Victor?" She was growing weary of the rollercoaster of emotions she experienced when she was around him.
"Mrs. Cork—" He began.
"You want Mrs. Cork?" Now she was getting belligerent, and she didn't care.
"No!" His hand tightened on her arm. "I want you."
THIS WAS NOT GOING at all the way he'd planned. He was used to hoofing it in uniform; running down miscreants was part of his job description in this town. But running down three women in a church parking lot didn't sit well with his ego. Then Mrs. Cork's awkward comment about his clothing, followed by her not-so-subtle attempt to coerce a compliment out of Juliette, made him feel even more out of his element. When Juliette made the decision to round everyone up and go home, he was almost relieved to be off the hook. Mrs. Cork, however, having none of it, threw the gauntlet at him with both hands. Even then, as Juliette turned and fled the scene, he might have chickened out, but one look at her little sister's face and he was done in. The pleading in her eyes was the proverbial kick in the pants, and he straightened his shoulders with renewed determination. He wasn't going to back out again. He was taking Trevor's advice; he was picking up the bat for real this time.
And swing away, he did; a solid strike. I want you? How could he let those words fly out of his mouth? Why did he always make such a fool of himself around her?
Well, at least she'd stopped walking.
"I'm not doing a very good job of this, but would you at least hear me out?" She nodded but didn't look up at him, crossing her arms and staring straight ahead at her car. He imagined she wished she was already behind the wheel, a million miles away.
"I meant to say that Mrs. Cork was right. I wanted to ask you out tonight. I'm sorry it all happened the way it did, because I had it planned so differently. I was expecting you to be alone." He shrugged self
-consciously. "It would have made things a lot simpler."
"Well, I'm sorry I made things difficult for you. I'm sorry I didn't follow your plan." She kept her face averted. "But I'm not just a lonely old maid sitting in the back of church, pining away for Prince Charming, you know."
"Good grief, Juliette! I didn't mean it that way either!" He stepped back and ran frustrated fingers through his hair. Was she making this hard on him on purpose?
"How did you mean it, then?" she asked, finally turning to glare up at him. "I wish you'd make yourself a little clearer, because I can't figure out from one day to the next whether you're coming or going. What is it you want from me, Officer Jarrett?" She ducked her head, her words coming out harsh, frustrated. "And why am I always asking you that?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets, and his jaw muscles tightened. It seemed like everything he said she took the wrong way. But she had a point, didn't she? Hadn't he sent her some pretty mixed messages over the last few months?
When he didn't answer right away, she shook her head. "I'm tired. I didn't sleep much last night, so I'm sorry if I'm being rude. I need to get back to my dog. He seems to be the only one I don't inconvenience, let down, or scare off these days." She took a jerking step forward. "Goodnight."
Her words were like sword thrusts to his gut and he thought he knew exactly how she felt. His whole life he'd been a let-down to the people he loved. His father who never came for him, his mother whom he couldn't save, and his sisters who didn't want him to save them. He'd finally found his place on the police force, settling for 'just the facts' so that he knew exactly what was expected of him. As far as his relationships with women, who was he kidding? He hadn't forgotten the look on Amanda's face when she told him it wasn't enough, that he wasn't enough. He'd seen the disappointment and hopelessness blocking out any love she might have felt for him.
And he would eventually do the same to Juliette. Those tears building in her eyes were red flags. He would let her down, too, just like he let down everyone else.
Run, man. Run.
"No!" The word clawed its way past the tightness in his throat. He launched himself in front of her before she could get away, reached out and grasped her upper arms, stopping her in her tracks. He was aware he might be being too forceful—belatedly, he prayed she wouldn't misconstrue his intentions and cry out for help—but he threw caution to the wind. "No. Listen to me, Juliette."
He took her chin, gently, but intentionally, and turned her face toward his. She didn't resist, but stared past his left ear. "Listen to me," he spoke more earnestly, but let go of her. "Please look at me, Juliette."
When she finally did, he nearly stepped back, almost unable to bear the burden of what he saw in those gray windows. He took a deep breath and let it out in a disgruntled sigh. "I have made a jerk of myself at every opportunity with you, and if not a jerk, then a fool. I have gone about this whole thing wrong from the very beginning. When Trevor told me to...to ask you out, I should have jumped at the chance." His brows formed a jagged line above his eyes. "But you make me feel uncomfortable in my own skin, Juliette, and I don't like it at all. You make me question everything about myself; my plans for the future, what I thought I knew about women, even my feelings toward sisters in general."
"Trevor told you to ask me out? Why on earth would he do that?"
He raised his hands, impatient with her interruption. "I don't know. I suppose he thought it would be good for me, for us. I don't know, Juliette!" Is that all she heard? Didn't she care that he was baring his soul to her? Man, he was losing it, big time. "And then when Michelle and Tom made me—"
"They made you?" Juliette looked aghast. "Is that why you asked me over for pie? Because they made you?"
"No! It's not like that at all. Let me finish, please. They made me face some things about myself that I didn't want to face. It was like they held up a mirror and made me take a real good look at myself." He sighed, wishing he could find better words to explain his behavior, but no matter how he said things, he looked bad, even to himself. "You're not making this any easier for me, you know."
"Oh, really?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, while you were discussing your life with the man in the mirror, I was wondering what was wrong with me. First you patronize me like I'm some bubble-headed little woman, then you think me the worst of the dregs of society. You apologize, practically break down my door to kiss me, then you disappear into the night like I'm some kind of a...a pariah. And now you want me to make this easy for you?"
Victor shook his head and muttered, "I can't win with you, can I?" Everything she said was true, yes, but he wanted to make things right. She, however, wasn't going to give him an inch, and he was no longer sure he wanted it.
She shook her head. He didn't know if she was agreeing with him or just frustrated in general. He decided to try one more time.
"Michelle told me I was a fool for not pursuing you."
"Well, I don't know about that, but you're a coward for leading me on. I gotta go." She turned away to leave.
"Please don't go yet." His voice was harsh with misery and he wished with all his might that he could take back the last three weeks and do them over again. "You're right. They're right. Juliette, do you know why my friends all think I should pursue you?"
She just stood there, her back to him.
"Because being around you makes me act like this," he grumbled. "And they all think it's funny."
Now she did look up at him, just from the corner of her eye. "What does that mean?"
"They think—"
"No. I mean, act like what?" she interrupted. She turned around to face him now, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest.
"Like a fool. Like a jerk. Like a...a coward." The word did not come easy.
"So let me get this straight. They want you to pursue me because they think it's funny that you act like a jerk toward me? Why do I suddenly sympathize with Elizabeth Bennet, Mr. Darcy?"
Victor rolled his eyes and stepped back, hands raised again in surrender, having no clue who Mr. Darcy was and not really caring. "I give up. I give up." He called out to the two women who stood at a distance behind them, "I give up!" Then he turned back to her and bowed his head mockingly, pretending to doff a hat. "I'm sorry for disturbing your evening, Miss Gustafson. I will leave you in peace."
He spun on his heels and had taken three long strides when she spoke. "My sisters think you should ask me out, too."
He didn't turn around, but her words jump-started his heart. "They do?"
"Yes. And they haven't even met you yet. Well, except for Gia. But she thought so before tonight. So does my friend, Sharon."
"And now your Mrs. Cork...."
"Yes. She seems to be suffering from the same madness as everyone else. It's as though the world is conspiring against us."
Victor turned around and faced her from several feet away. "Or for us."
"Hm."
"Juliette—
"Officer Jarrett—" They both spoke at the same time.
"Victor," he corrected again, his voice harsh with need. He wanted to hear her say his name. He needed to hear his name on her lips. He needed her to want to say his name. "Go ahead."
"Victor. Yes." She looked down at her feet as though directing them to move. She took two tentative steps toward him and raised her eyes to meet his. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. But the fact is, since we're being honest here, I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster when I'm with you. And I don't really like rollercoasters. It's a control thing, or so I've been told. I like order. I like predictable. And I don't like surprises. I know you'd probably never guess all this about me, considering my state of mind whenever you're around me, but it seems to me that you, sir, are the one who brings the wild-child dingbat out of me. I'm boring by nature. I'm sensible and steady. I wear practically the same thing almost every day—ask my sisters! I'm a color-inside-the-lines kind of girl, Victor Jarrett, except when I'm around you."
She sm
iled then, and he felt his shoulders relax. He moved a little closer and hooked his thumbs in his pockets, a slow grin spreading across his face as he watched her internal struggle playing out on her face.
"I wear me out when you're around. I can only imagine what I do to you." She snorted softly, a sound he was beginning to really, really like. "See? I don't even think that made sense."
"Actually, it made perfect sense to me. I was just thinking the same thing." If only she really knew what she did to him. "Except I wouldn't call it wearing me out. More like wearing me thin. Wearing me down. Wearing me—"
"Ok. Ok. I got it." She flapped a hand in front of her like she was shooing a fly away. "Look, it's getting late, and I did promise to get Mrs. Cork home right after church." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then looked up at him with a sad, half-smile. "I think we should call it a week, Victor, okay? I need to go home."
He didn't want to let her go. A quick glance over his shoulder, however, told him that Mrs. Cork was indeed getting anxious, and he had to admit that Juliette looked exhausted. Lord, why is there always someone or something getting in the way?
"Sure," he agreed out loud, even though his insides were resisting with every fiber. "I understand. You look like you could use some rest." As soon as the words were out, he knew he'd stepped on her toes again, and he wished he could suck them back in. "Sorry. That didn't come out right. You look great. Fantastic. Beautiful."
"Flattery, Victor, will get you nowhere. I know what I look like. Gia and I had a chick-flick slumber party with Bob."
"Lucky Bob," he interjected.
Juliette snorted rudely. "Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep. And unfortunately for you, that seems to be the way you always get me." She turned toward Gia and Mrs. Cork, and called out, "Come on, ladies."
Mrs. Cork eyed him quizzically as she approached, but she wisely didn't say anything. Victor was glad. He felt roughed up, almost like he'd been brawling, and still unsettled about a lot of things, especially his feelings for Juliette. He didn't need anyone rubbing things the wrong way right now.
Juliette and the Monday ManDates Page 23