by Leroux, Lucy
Determined to make herself useful, Juliet started cleaning. Ethan wasn’t a messy man, but there was a lot scattered around—tools and materials he was using in the ongoing renovation of this place and possibly hers. Most of it had been placed high enough up to stay out of Luna’s reach, but the little girl was a bit of an acrobat in addition to being an escape artist. With a little effort, she might reach some of those tools and sharp-looking pieces of flooring.
Carefully, she organized the objects on high shelves, leaving them out in the open where Ethan could still easily find them. Then she went into his office. His papers were all over the desk. Not wanting to disrupt his work, she pushed the haphazard piles into neat stacks.
An ornate paperweight was carelessly tossed between piles. Picking it up, she read the letters engraved on it—FBI Medal for Meritorious Achievement. It was followed by Ethan’s name. Santo cielo. He wasn’t a normal police officer. Ethan was an FBI agent.
Sick to her stomach, Juliet sat down in the leather office chair behind the desk. Was this better or worse than being a run-of-the-mill cop?
Worse, definitely worse.
Though she had spent time in Boston during her school days, she didn’t know much about the FBI in this country. She had been studying corporate and international law. Television shows and movies glorified cops and FBI agents, but the newspapers reported on crooked policeman all the time.
It’s supposed to be better here, she reminded herself. Though corruption was real, it wasn’t institutionalized the way it was back home. In fact, she might be able to find someone who could help her. Someday.
What if she showed Ethan the video?
Stop that. Stop it right there. Despite his kindness, she didn’t know anything about the man. She couldn’t take the chance he would be on her side. Too much was at stake. Confiding in anyone, especially an FBI agent, was too big a risk.
Exhausted after her small efforts at organizing, she went to the bedroom to rest, but her brain was buzzing and she couldn’t settle down to sleep. Today had been too much of a shock.
Dear Lord, what’s going to happen tonight?
Chapter Ten
“Going home to the little woman?” Jason asked, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
Ethan dropped the finished stack of reports in his outgoing mailbox. “Bite your tongue.”
His partner snorted. “Well, a woman is waiting for you, right? A pretty one if I don’t miss my guess.”
He scowled. “How do you figure that? Furthermore, why do you care? Aren’t you supposed to be a happily married man?”
Jason smirked. “I am. But I know this girl is attractive or you wouldn’t be playing the white knight to this extent.”
Ethan rolled his shoulders, stretching before tossing his notes into his messenger bag. “Why? Am I incapable of helping someone in need unless they’re smoking hot?”
“Oooh. So she’s not plain old hot? She’s smoking. This gets better and better.”
Ethan threw his pen at his partner, who caught it neatly. “Of course you would help a mother in need,” Jason said generously. “However, I seriously doubt you would move her in with you if she didn’t make your downstairs bits stand and take notice…”
“Nice.” Ethan sniffed disdainfully. “Except the moving-in part is temporary. She goes right back to the studio apartment once I finish putting down the bamboo flooring. This weekend at the latest.”
Jason stood, shutting off his desktop as he rose. “Well, if she lasts a little longer than that, you might think about bringing her to the Caislean for dinner some night. I’m sure a working mom would appreciate a night out at a five-star restaurant. You can even bring the kid. Maggie would enjoy meeting them.”
They headed to the elevators. “Trust me, you don’t want me to that,” Ethan said. “Women get ideas when you put them around babies. I thought you were determined to keep that gorgeous wife of yours in the honeymoon phase.”
Jason shrugged. “I’m not a newlywed anymore. It might be time to start talking about expanding our twosome to three—for starters. I’m determined to field a baseball team by the time Maggie and I are through.”
Ethan groaned aloud. “Good God, don’t you start with that. I mean it, Jason. First Patrick and now you going full-bore marriage and family. I refuse to be the last man standing.”
His partner’s snicker was not comforting. Damn it. Mason and Donovan needed to move back here ASAP. He was surrounded.
* * *
The smell of cooking food permeated the hallway. Instantly starving, Ethan threw open the door, calling out Julie’s name in a loud stage whisper. Luna dozed against him, completely tuckered out from the full day of play at her babysitters. His free hand held his suitcase and few surprises Jason had pulled out of his trunk in the parking lot after work.
“What is that?” he called, looking for Julie. “It smells great.”
The oven buzzer was his only answer. Juggling the toddler, he checked the new oven, pleased the timer had shut off the heating elements. If Julie were taking a nap, then at least she wouldn’t have burned down the apartment.
After setting Luna down for a pre-dinner nap, he found the woman sleeping in his bed. She was wearing one of his many FBI T-shirts—and nothing else.
His cock stirred at the sight of her shapely legs. Whoa. Down, boy. Now was not the time and this was not the woman for that kind of thing. Moving quietly, he stowed his gun in the lockbox, deciding to transfer it to the bottom drawer of his office desk. Julie would sleep easier if it were farther away from her.
Unfortunately, even when she was out of sight, his hard-on stubbornly stayed where it was. It was as if her image were burned into his brain.
Fuck. The bad weather had to let up soon. Ethan needed to hit a few of his favorite bars, the ones where it was easy to find a quick hookup. Except that wasn’t going to happen. The forecast called for frigid temperatures for the next few nights, which would make the roads icy. Only the most desperate of women would be out on the prowl for a little strange this week.
A noise made him glance up. A sleep-tousled Julie stood in the doorway of his office, still in only his t-shirt.
With her drowsy expression and disheveled hair, she looked as if she’d just been fucked. Or at least that was what he imagined she would look like, flushed with deep pink full lips.
Hell, did the woman bite them in her sleep?
Just like that, he was burning again. She’s flushed because she’s running a temperature, he chastised himself.
Awkwardly, Julie waved.
“Hi. Sorry about this.” She gestured to the T-shirt. “I was behind on laundry. Since you have a set of machines up here, I took advantage to get caught up. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” He glanced down at himself, then sat abruptly in his chair to hide his obvious erection. “Luna’s asleep. How are you feeling?”
“Better. I took the clothes you left in the drier and folded them. I was going to put them away in the drawers, but then I decided I should ask for permission first. I left them folded on top of your dresser in the bedroom.”
Her blush told him some of his underwear had been included in that load. “That’s fine. I don’t keep anything sensitive in the drawers.”
His extra-large box of condoms was stashed in the bedside table. He didn’t know whether she had peeked in there, but he wasn’t going to be embarrassed about those. Ethan was young, virile. The sooner his houseguest learned that, the better.
She needed to learn a few other things, too. For example, wearing a man’s shirt and nothing else was asking for trouble.
His stare must have made Julie realize that fact. Flushing a deeper red, she excused herself and practicality ran to the bedroom. She returned in a few minutes wearing her own clothes.
He met her in the living room. “I see you did a little child-proofing.”
“Yes…sorry.”
Why was she always apologizing
to him?
“Don’t be. It was a good idea. Something I should have thought of myself. Did you talk to Luna today? I told her sitter to call you.”
“Yes, thank you.” She gestured to the stuffed bear he’d dropped on the counter. “Is that yours?” She sounded amused.
He laughed. “It’s for Luna from my partner’s wife. Maggie—that’s Jason’s wife—also sent over a few new outfits. They’re in the bag on the couch.”
Her expression grew tight. “She didn’t have to get her anything. Really, you’ve done too much already.”
He walked around the kitchen island to the fridge for a beer. “A few new clothes and toys can’t hurt. And trust me, Maggie loves any excuse to shop.”
“She’s too generous,” Julie said, examining the contents of the bag. He’d checked inside—there were onesies and a cute little pajama outfit as well as two dresses with matching winter tights. At the bottom of the bag was another pack of diapers and wipes.
She handled each item, studying it pensively before putting it back in the bag. Ethan cocked his head at her downcast expression. “You don’t like taking help, do you?”
A corner of her mouth twisted up. “Am I that easy to read?”
“To me you are.”
Her expression grew even more troubled, but he only caught a glimpse before she turned away and busied herself at the oven. “I hope you like casserole—I saw you had plenty of cheese and tuna. If not, I can make another one of the frozen pizzas.”
“Whatever it is it smells great. And sorry about the frozen pizzas. I know they can get monotonous. But we could have ordered take-out now that the roads are a bit better. You should be resting.”
“It was no trouble. Besides, I feel much better today. As for the pizzas, I like them, but I thought you might appreciate something different. Tuna noodle is Luna’s favorite. Well, when she’s eating. She’s very picky about her food. I also made rolls to go with it.”
She gestured to a basket covered with a kitchen towel. He lifted the towel, revealing golden-brown dinner rolls. Not known for his patience, he immediately gobbled one up.
“Holy crap. These are amazing.” He grabbed two more.
“Leave room for the main course,” she said with a laugh, pulling out the glass baking dish from the oven and peeling back the foil covering. Shell pasta was smothered in bubbling cheddar and Monterey Jack cheese.
His stomach growled aloud. “So, it’s basically mac and cheese with tuna? That sounds amazing.”
“I also grilled some of your frozen asparagus,” she added with a quirk of her lip.
He started to set the table. “Oh, that was something the grocer threw in. I guess I can have some of that, too.”
Smiling, she carried the casserole to the table, but by the time she set it down, she was wilting again.
Ethan hurried to pull the chair out for her. “Thank you for making dinner, but I would rather have frozen pizza than have you overextend yourself. You need to regain your strength. Sit and eat.”
“I was going to dine later,” she said, holding the chair for support. “I might go lie down again.”
“No. You’re up. Sit,” he insisted, rising to guide her to the seat across from his. He ushered her into the chair despite her protests.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to eat alone?”
“I eat alone all the time. I’ll be glad for the company.”
Even eating with Luna had been kind of nice, but the little girl frequently napped for a few hours after getting home.
Juliet smiled weakly. “I don’t want to impose…”
Scooping a heaping helping of noodles on his plate, he sat with a grin. “Don’t worry about it. So, Julietta, tell me about yourself.”
She dropped her fork. “What? I’m sorry. It’s Julie, not Julietta.”
Ethan noted her sudden agitation before taking a bite. He swallowed, letting his eyes roll back into his head in ecstasy. “Damn, that’s good.”
For such a simple dish, it was divine. “Your name—you said it was Julietta when you were sick that first night. You also told me Luna’s name.”
She ducked her head. “Oh, it’s Julie. But I was named after an aunt, Julietta, so I was sometimes called that. I don’t use it now. Everyone at the bar calls me Julie.”
Ethan served himself a heap of casserole, wondering why she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “So Julietta is a family name? It’s pretty.”
“I prefer Julie.” Picking up her fork again, she began to eat.
“Julie it is then.” He waved his fork. “Why did you move to Boston?”
“After I finished school in Mexico, I was promised a job by a small law firm here as a paralegal, but the office closed up shortly after I arrived. I had to scramble to find other work.”
“And your parents? Where are they?”
Her eyes grew distant. “They’re gone. Over a year now.”
“I’m sorry.” That explained why they hadn’t been around to help. “Can I ask how they died?”
She tensed, her grip strangling that fork. “It was a car accident.”
He paused to take a sip. “I’m prying, aren’t I? I’m sorry. You can tell me to stop.”
“It’s all right.” But it wasn’t. She was holding her fork, but she wasn’t using it. His stubborn curiosity must have made her lose her appetite. Do I try to make her feel better or go for broke?
“What about Luna’s father?” he asked, kicking himself for his damnable curiosity.
“Oh…well, he’s not in the picture.”
Determined to keep talking despite the foot in his mouth, he said, “I figured that part out, but maybe your ex could contribute. Have you tried suing for child support? I know a few people who did that—women I met on the job. It does work.”
Her expression firmed. “Child support isn’t a possibility. And I don’t want anything from my ex. He’s not who I thought he was.”
Was it pride or fear talking? The way she lived—the two battered suitcases and backpack. It was the hallmark of a woman on the run. Had Luna’s father been a bad guy?
He wanted to question her further, but Julie looked so uncomfortable he decided to let it go for the moment. She wasn’t a subject in an interrogation room. He could afford to wait, to establish some trust.
Instead of talking, he helped himself to more of the casserole. By the time he was done, half the large platter was empty.
Throughout his meal, Julie watched him with wide eyes. “I guess you were hungry.”
“Actually, I grabbed a slice on the way home. But this was too good to pass up.”
Julie laughed, picking up one of his untouched asparagus spears with her fork. She bit it, then gave him a coy smile. “I don’t know how you stay in shape. If I ate like you, I’d have to be wheeled around in a hand truck.”
“So you noticed my fine figure?” He flexed under his shirt, tossing her a flirtatious grin.
Her smile dampened. “I noticed you weren’t five hundred pounds, which I would be if I ate like you with any regularity.”
Ethan downed the last of his beer.
“I have the right genes, I guess. I inherited a fast metabolism.” His daily workouts didn’t hurt either.
Julie finished her meal, then rose and began to clean up.
“Let me do that,” he said, rising. “You’re still weak.”
“I’m much better now that I’ve eaten. Please go enjoy one of your sports shows. This is no trouble.”
He took the plate from her. “Not a chance.”
“I can do the dishes at least,” she insisted.
“That’s what I have a dishwasher for.” He opened the appliance door, then started loading it.
Julie craned her neck to see inside. “I’ve never lived in a place with one. How does it work?”
Ethan explained where to load what and how to run the washing cycles. When they were done, she stepped away and started wiping down the counters and wrapping the leftovers up. They
worked together with an odd synchronization that felt oddly familiar.
“Would you mind if I kept child-proofing?” she asked afterward. “There are a few more things I meant to store out of reach. I can return everything to its place once the studio is ready.”
“All right.” Ethan was about to offer to help when he remembered. He checked his watch. “Damn. I forgot the guest room furniture is on its way. The delivery is due any minute.”
“There’s a furniture store that delivers this late?”
“It’s only a little after six.”
She glanced at the darkened windows. “Oh, I think I’ve lost track of time being inside all day. It gets dark so early, and it feels much later.”
He agreed with a murmur. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to call the delivery company to see how far out they are.”
“No problem.” After excusing herself, she began to bustle around the background while Ethan made his call.
It was fortuitous timing. The delivery van had just turned onto his street. He went downstairs. Feeling a little bad the elevator was still out, he helped them carry the bedroom end tables inside while the men handled the bed and frame.
By the time they were done hauling everything to the top floor, he needed another beer.
I wonder if Julie could drink one with me, he thought as he tossed fresh sheets onto the bed. If she didn’t like beer, he had a few bottles of wine stashed somewhere in the closet. He hadn’t been able to get her antibiotics, but the meningitis appeared to be clearing up without them, confirming it had been viral in origin. It also meant she could have a drink with him. If Luna was still asleep, he’d ask.