by Brooks, Abby
“Juliet Lane, what’s gotten into you?” If Willow sounded incredulous before, she sounded downright awestruck as she digested Juliet’s story.
“Right? Now you see why I called! It’s only been a few days and I don’t know anything about him except how I feel when he’s around.”
“And how’s that?”
“I feel better than good. I feel alive. Like the best version of myself. Happy.” Juliet realized she had the biggest, stupidest, goofiest smile stretched across her face. “Willie, he makes me happy. Like for really real happy.”
“You know what?” Willow paused dramatically and Juliet waited impatiently. “Fuck it. You deserve to be happy, Julz. Have a blast. Be free. Swoop this Ian up and have some fun. I say sleep with him.”
“Willow!”
Sleep with Ian? That was the last thing she expected her friend to say…but the grin on her face stretched even bigger and she had to wonder about how true that last thought was. Maybe that was exactly what she expected Willow to say.
“Maybe you need this,” Willie continued. “Maybe you need this guy to come in and sweep you off your feet so you can finally realize that you’re not unlovable.”
“I never said I thought I was unlovable.”
“You never had to say it. I know you well enough to figure that out. So what if your dad spent all his time and attention on your stepmom and stepbrother. And so what if your mom was busy being happy with her husband. None of that says anything about what kind of person you are.”
Tears pricked Juliet’s eyes, but she absolutely refused to cry. She’d spent too much time with her makeup to ruin it over something silly. “I know none of that matters,” she said around the lump in her throat.
“Your head knows it, Julz, but your heart never has. You’re the sweetest, hardest working, most caring, special-est girl I know. Now, you go out there and let that Ian make you swoon. Let him make you feel special. Let him take care of you. Let yourself love him, if it comes to that. But most importantly, have fun!”
Juliet thanked her friend and said her goodbyes before dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a tissue. She’d never told anyone that somewhere along the line, she deemed herself unlovable. For Willow to have known, for it to have been so obvious, cut her to the quick.
What had Ian said that morning? New town, new home, new guy, new rules? Juliet decided to take that to heart and make it her Bliss motto.
Enough with the sadness!
Enough with the need to control everything!
Enough with the self-doubt!
It was time to really and truly take charge of her life and find happiness. Not just find it…but to allow it.
Throw caution to the wind.
Follow her heart.
And if her heart led her straight into Ian Moore’s bed, then so be it.
She’d quite willingly allow that, too.
Chapter Eighteen
Juliet
Tires crunched over the gravel driveway at precisely seven o’clock. Julz hopped up from where she perched on the edge of the couch and started toward the door.
How about you wait for him to actually get out of the car? You know, maybe try playing it cool?
She blew out a long breath and wiped her hands on her thighs. It took concentrated effort, but when Ian finally knocked on the door, she walked like a grown woman rather than skipping and running to him like the excited child inside wanted to do.
When she pulled open the door, her heart stuttered and stammered to see him, the memory of their kiss still lingering heavily on her mind. Freshly shaven and wearing a well-fitted gray button up and slacks, Ian looked absolutely delicious.
“Hey,” she said, smiling and biting her lip.
He stepped back, taking her in. “Wow.”
“You like it?” She spun in a slow circle, giving his eyes time to travel over her body and liking the way having his full and complete attention made her feel.
“I very much like it. You look spectacular.”
Juliet beamed as he offered his hand and led her to the M4 gleaming in the driveway. He opened the passenger door and stepped back.
“Thank you,” she said, sliding into the leather seat and looking up at him. His dark hair shone in the low light and the glint in his eyes promised of wicked pleasures yet to come.
“Of course.”
After Ian closed the door, Juliet tracked his progress as he walked around the front of the car. He looked absolutely sexy as hell. The perfect combination of everything.
His dark features gave him an edge of mystery.
The nice clothes gave him an aura of luxury.
And that swagger in his step? Whether he wore his cowboy boots and jeans, slacks and a button-down, or a full-blown tuxedo, he made that swagger look damn good. All of it combined to give him a dominant edge which Juliet found unbelievably attractive.
In theory, she reminded herself. Dominant men are only attractive in theory.
Ian lowered himself into the driver’s seat and backed out of the driveway. They chatted amicably as he wound his way through the streets of Bliss, pointing out landmarks as they drove. Before long, they pulled into the parking lot of a small seaside restaurant with an unassuming exterior.
“Welcome to Harrison’s.” Ian offered his elbow as she got out of the car. As she threaded her arm through his, he leaned in and whispered, “I promise you’ll love everything you order, or I will personally drag the owner out of the kitchen and give him a noogie.”
“That sounds a little extreme.” Juliet quirked her head. “Extreme and strange.”
“I promise you, this guy has earned his fair share of noogies in his lifetime.”
“I take it this is a friend of yours?”
“Friend, brother. Potato, po-tah-toe.”
Juliet paused just inside the entrance, taking in the simple, yet elegant décor—unassuming and gorgeous. “This is James’ place?” Somehow, she couldn’t see the tattooed and gregarious James pulling off this level of understated sophistication.
“Nope. Harry’s.” Ian nodded at the hostess who greeted him warmly and led them to a table with a view of the ocean.
“Just how many brothers do you have?” she asked as Ian slid out her chair.
“That’s it. James, Harrison, and me. Add in our father and that’s all the Moore men Bliss could handle. Of course, then there’s our sister, and I don’t think anyone can handle her.” Ian took a seat as the hostess asked for their drink orders.
His dark gaze found hers. “What do you think about red wine, Juliet?”
“Haven’t met one I didn’t like.”
“Perfect,” replied Ian before ordering a bottle of something that sounded trendy and expensive.
Juliet watched the hostess disappear in the maze of candlelit tables. “You sure know how to spoil a girl.”
“Maybe you’re just the kind of girl who deserves spoiling.”
She blushed and opened her menu, desperate to hide the goofy grin that slid across her face. “What’s good here?”
“It’s run by a Moore. Everything’s good here.”
Juliet couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, what’s better than good here?”
“Do you trust me?”
She eyed him warily. The honest answer was yes. Considering trust wasn’t something she handed out easily, certainly not to men she’d only known a handful of days, that was a feat. For whatever reason, she felt completely at ease with Ian and she wasn’t even sure what it was about him that made her feel that way. She nodded, opting for the truth rather than what she thought the truth should be.
“Good.” He took the menu out of her hands. “Then I’ll order for you.”
Juliet’s heart went to war with her head. On one hand, there was something incredibly appealing about letting Ian order for her, about placing herself in his hands. And on the other, she was a strong, capable woman who shouldn’t allow anyone else to lead her through life.
Everything
that happened with Peter was proof of that truth.
“You think you know me well enough to order for me?” she asked in a light tone, hoping it hid the battle of intellect and emotion raging inside her.
“You think you’re such a closed book that I can’t take a decent stab at it?”
“Okay, Mr. Confident.” She folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. “Show me what an open book I am.”
Ian pursed his lips and pretended to study her, slitting his eyes as if he intended to see into her soul and discover her deepest secrets and truest truths. When the waitress returned with the wine, Ian ordered them both the same thing—oysters on the half-shell topped with a crunchy, spicy mix of diced cucumber, chilis and pear, crab cakes with smoky onion remoulade, and a salmon and citrus salad topped with poppy seed dressing.
Juliet raised her eyebrows. “I have to hand it to you,” she said, nodding. “That actually sounds delicious.”
“Of course it does.” He sat back, pride dancing across his face, as if his Juliet-reading skills were never in doubt.
“That doesn’t prove anything, though. You didn’t order what you thought I’d like. You just ordered me what you like.”
“And who’s to say I don’t think we like the same things?”
There it was again. The crazy happiness that bloomed out of nowhere and made each and every moment seem important and precious. She glanced through the window at the ocean, the lights from the candles reflected in the glass. There she was, being made to feel beautiful and special by this handsome man. This handsome man whose kiss had been so deliciously rough and commanding earlier that afternoon.
All she wanted was more.
More kissing.
More contact.
More talking.
More Ian Moore.
Juliet sipped her wine. “This is really good.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“I can see why.”
Ian tilted his glass her way before taking a drink of his own. He settled back in his chair, his gaze locked on hers. “Let’s play a game.”
“What kind of game?”
“The Get to Know You game.” He swirled his wine, the burgundy liquid coating the glass.
“And just how does one play the Get to Know You game?”
“It’s pretty simple. I ask you a question, you answer it truthfully.” Ian held eye contact, his face light and open.
“And what if I don’t like the question?”
“Why wouldn’t you like my question?” He tilted his head, face quizzical. “Do you have a deep, dark secret you don’t want me knowing?”
You mean like I was a subservient sex slave to a rich and powerful CEO of a large tech company? Yeah, I don’t want you to know that. “We all have things we want to hide, don’t we?”
He narrowed his eyes, studying her intently. After several moments, he bobbed his head as if he’d come to a decision. “You can have one pass. But”—he held up a finger—“you have to realize that a pass will only make me more curious about the question.”
“I won’t pass lightly, then.” Juliet nodded, folding her arms on the table and leaning forward. “And what about me? Do I get to ask you questions?”
“Of course. It wouldn’t be much of a game, otherwise.” His sultry lips curled into a half-smile. “And I bet I can do it without having to pass once.”
“You don’t have anything you want to hide?”
“Nothing I want to hide from you. I fully intend to wow you tonight.”
I fully intend to be wowed by you tonight, she thought to herself. “All right. The Get to Know You game. Who starts?”
Ian smiled and extended his hands in a gesture of concession. “I’ll even let you go first.”
“How very chivalrous of you.” Juliet took a moment to consider. Personal questions would be better left for when they were deeper into the bottle of wine, so she opted for something simple. “What’s your family like?”
“Interesting choice.” Ian narrowed his eyes as if her question was anything but simple. “My family is wonderfully boring in that we love each other, and our gatherings are pleasant and easy. On the other hand, my family is extraordinary in that we’re all fast-paced and successful in our own rights.” He flared his hands. “No great secrets there.”
“Sounds wonderful, actually.” Juliet sat back as their salads arrived, folding her hands in her lap while Ian thanked the waitress and watched her leave.
He picked up his fork and stabbed a tomato. “My turn,” he said, popping the bite into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “What inspired you to ask about my family?”
His question made her uncomfortable for some reason, a little flustered and defensive, and she didn’t know why. “It seemed like a good place to start.”
“No.” Ian lifted his eyebrows and pointed his fork her way before using it to hunt another tomato. “I want the real reason. No cop out answers.”
The real reason? Did he think there was some kind of underlying something-or-other hiding inside her question?
“I just think family is important is all. I was curious about one that managed to raise a man like you.”
“Family is important, Juliet. A tree with deep roots laughs at storms.”
She tried not to let him see how his words punched her in the stomach. She had no true roots. She’d never felt safe or secure in her family. Never felt cherished or adored. She grew up aware she was the obligation standing in the way of her parents getting what they wanted out of life.
Keeping her face light, Juliet moved on to her next question. “What earned you the title of Lieutenant?”
“I was a naval aviator until an injury earned me an honorable discharge.”
“A naval aviator?” Surprise sent her eyebrows into her hairline. “Like, you flew planes?”
“I did.”
“So, the ‘Tower…coming in hot’ thing was for real? I thought you were just ripping off Top Gun.”
“No. But that is one of my favorite movies.” Ian held up his hands. “And it might be part of the reason I wanted to fly planes in the first place.”
“What happened?” Juliet picked at her salad. “How did you get hurt?”
Ian tsked and pushed his empty salad bowl away. “By my count, you just asked four, maybe five questions. It’s my turn.”
“But there’s no way I have any answers as interesting as I fly planes.”
“Let me be the judge of that, thank you very much.” He paused as the waitress came to clear away their salad plates. “Do you consider yourself a risk taker?”
I signed a contract that gave a man complete power over me. I think that’s a pretty decent sized risk.
“Yes. I’d say I take risks.” Juliet took another drink of her wine and Ian reached across the table to top off her glass.
“Name a few.”
She held up her hand. “Nope. It’s my turn. Besides, that’s not a question.”
“Exactly, so, we won’t be skipping your turn if you tell me. Plus, you already owe me like six questions as it is.”
“I thought you said four or five.”
“Interest rates are a bitch.”
“Fine.” She thought back. “I went bridge jumping with my friends once. That was pretty risky.” She told him about the time she went hiking along some old railroad tracks. They came to a bridge that stood about thirty feet above a river. “It was all I could do to climb over that railing, to feel it against my back and know there was nothing between me and a freefall into the water. I was the last one to jump. But I did. And it was exhilarating. I was supposed to keep my arms wrapped tight around me when I hit the water, but at the last second, I flung them out to my side. They slapped the surface so hard it broke blood vessels. Had some nasty bruises.”
“Ouch.” Ian cringed. “Ever jumped out of a plane?”
“Nope. Have you?”
He widened his eyes and looked at her like she’d missed something big. “Naval av
iator...?” he said when she didn’t make the connection herself.
“Oh! Right! Was it amazing?”
“Imagine your experience stretched out over many minutes. Well, minus the bruising, I guess.”
Juliet sighed wistfully. “I used to wish I was a bird. They’re so peaceful and free, up there in the sky. Looking down on us all. In my head, skydiving is kind of like that.”
“Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”
Her stomach flip-flopped and she wasn’t sure if it was the thought of actually skydiving, or the thought of spending more time with Ian. “I’d like that,” she managed, lowering her eyes and looking at him through her lashes.
Ian continued asking questions and answering hers, and it felt like she’d known the man all her life.
Like her heart knew he existed from the start and had been on hold, waiting for them to finally meet.
Like a missing piece of her soul finally fit itself into place.
She’d never felt so at ease, so real, so…happy.
Chapter Nineteen
Ian
Watching Juliet talk about herself was like watching a strange version of peekaboo. From time to time Ian caught glimpses of pure exuberance poking through her practiced exterior. Such vivid emotion would transform her face, it was like watching a child. Not because she was childish, but because he saw uninhibited joy and delight. Like the time he watched her sing and dance in her car while he led her to the house she’d be calling home for a while.
But that joy was contrasted by a deep sadness.
A tense-jawed, dark-eyed sorrow that she tried to hide behind a constant smile.
Ian wondered how many people had been fooled by the act. Or worse, how many people saw through it and decided not to care.
He refused to let her hide behind her practiced answers and cultivated responses. Whatever had her so disappointed in life, whatever hurt she was hiding, he was going to find it. And when he did, he’d eradicate all traces of it. There was something special in the woman across from him. Something more than just a gorgeous body and quick mind.