Answers For Julie (Book Nine In the Bodyguards of L.A. County Series)

by Cate Beauman

  “I’m sorry I walked out. I was rude,” she said but didn’t look at him.

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m not worried about your manners, Jules. I’m worried that you’re planning to get on a plane tomorrow.”

  “I already made the reservation.”

  He clenched his jaw with the small wave of panic. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “It’s mine to make.” She faced him now. “I’m going home.”

  “I thought you wanted answers.”

  “I thought I did too, but I don’t need them.” She went over to her suitcase, folding her dirty clothes into a bag. “My business is going to be in shambles if I don’t get back to it. I have classes to teach and massages to give—if the spa hasn’t stolen the rest of my customers.”

  He stepped farther into the room but gave her the space she clearly needed. “You planned to be away a week.”

  “And tomorrow will be four days. Close enough.”

  “The Julie I know isn’t a coward.”

  “A coward?” She whirled. “How dare you. You have no idea what this is like. No idea, Chase.”

  He was willing to give her some space, but he wasn’t about to let her walk away so easy. “This is tough. The hardest thing you’ll probably ever go through—”

  “Then don’t judge me.” She started toward the door.

  He stepped in her way. “This is going to eat at you. If you don’t stay and figure this out, it’s going to eat you alive and you know it. I can’t stay here and help forever. Let me help you find the answers while I can.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Hold on,” he said and peeked through the security hole before opening.

  “Good evening, sir.” The waiter handed over a tray.

  “Thank you. Add twenty percent.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chase closed the door with his hip and looked at Julie sitting on the bed with her back to him. “Have a glass of wine and talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Then have some wine.” He grabbed the throw off the back of the couch and laid it on the floor then opened the cabernet, poured two glasses, and sat down. “Come sit with me, Jules. Please.”

  Seconds passed before she stood, moving to where he leaned against the front of the couch.

  He took her hand and tugged gently, guiding her into the “v” between his legs.

  She sat, keeping her back rigid.

  He wrapped his arms around her, settling her against him, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I’m sorry this sucks so bad,” he said quietly next to her ear.

  Her shoulders relaxed and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  He handed her a glass, looking toward the windows. “It’s snowing.”

  “It snows in Washington too.”

  “But it’s snowing here in New Hampshire. And it’s just as beautiful.”

  She brought the glass to her lips. “I need to go tomorrow.”

  “Then I’ll drop you off at the airport on my way back to Newton.”

  “You don’t need to meet with Mr. Dubois.”

  “I’m planning on it anyway.”

  “Just let it go, Chase.” Her voice tightened with the stirrings of temper.

  He wrapped her up tighter.

  “I’m asking you to let this go,” she said more gently. “I’m asking you to drop this.”

  “For tonight.”

  “For good.”

  “For tonight,” he repeated, kissing her temple.

  “I just want everything back the way it used to be.”

  “But things are the way they are now.”

  “Why does everything have to change?”

  “Because it can’t stay the same—not with Neve or your mother, not with you and me.”

  She looked back at him.

  He took her wine glass. “Turn around, Jules.”

  She swallowed.

  “Don’t be stubborn for a change.” He patted his thighs, welcoming her to have a seat.

  She got to her knees and spun around.

  He settled her on his lap, sliding them torso-to-torso, so they stared in each other’s eyes. “We’ve never sat like this before.”

  “No, we haven’t.”

  “Something new, and it’s not too bad.”

  She shrugged.

  He slid his hands up and down her back. “It’s not too bad.”

  She jerked her shoulders again. “It has its points.”

  He smiled. “Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it has to be negative.”

  “I guess.”

  “I know.” He kissed her chastely, tasting wine. “There are so many things we’ve experienced together and so many more we haven’t.”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t want to live with you in the past. I want to make new memories. I want us to try new things.”

  “So far new things haven’t exactly worked out well for us.” She loosened his tie.

  He pulled off her sweater. “I don’t know about that.”

  “We skated and you bruised your butt.”

  He unhooked her bra, catching her pretty breasts in his hands. “True.”

  She shuddered. “And you practically sprained your knee today.”

  He suckled her breast, teasing her nipple into a hard point. “You got me there.” He moved onto her other breast.

  “And—” She snagged her lip with her teeth and gripped his arms when his mouth moved to her neck while his hands continued playing with her.

  “The sex, though.” He twisted her hair, settling it on top of her head and made his way to her ear. “We haven’t had any mishaps there.”

  She unbuttoned his shirt, sending a scattering of goosebumps over his skin as she moved her hands over his chest. “Not yet.”

  “I’m not planning on any mishaps.” He kissed her jaw, his breath coming faster. “I want to show you how we can be.”

  “You already have.” She pushed his shirt down his arms until it was off.

  “There’s so much more.” He laid her back against the blanket, settling himself over her. “I’ve never kissed my way down your stomach.” He made a trail between the valley of her breasts and groaned as she raked her fingers through his hair. “I’ve never slid my tongue around your sexy belly button.” He did and watched her muscles quiver. “I’ve never taken your pants off in front of a fire.” He unsnapped her slacks and pulled them off.

  “Chase, just hurry.”

  He shook his head. There would be no hurrying. They’d hurried this afternoon. He slid off her stockings then nibbled at her knees, making his way up to her thighs. “I’ve never done this either, Jules. You’re so soft. You smell so good.”

  “That’s okay,” she shuddered out. “I mean that we haven’t done this.”

  “No.” He slid his fingers over the crotch of skimpy red fabric.

  She moaned.

  “I’ve never done that before either, Jules.” He nipped at the skin along the barrier separating him from what he wanted most.

  She trembled. “Please.”

  He pressed his mouth to her through her panties.

  “Chase,” she whispered.

  “I’ve never tasted you, Jules. I’ve never ever tasted you.” He yanked at her underwear, ripping the fabric. “God, I need to taste you.” And he did, gliding his tongue along wet, silky fire, groaning as she stiffened and gasped. “God Jules. God.” He went to work, slowly, torturously so, bringing her higher, lacing their fingers as she shuddered and moaned. He urged her over the first peak and she whimpered, expelling a long breath.

  “I’ve never heard you scream.” She always came quietly. Tonight he would change that. “You’ve never screamed my name.” He waited for her to stop pulsing against his mouth and sent his fingers inside.

  She clutched at his hair as he plundered, working her, quickly figuring out her wants and needs.

  “Chase,” she choke
d out.

  “Louder.”

  “I—I can’t.”

  But she could, and he was going to show her. He added more pressure, picked up his pace, and she thrashed about as her moans grew louder.

  “Please. Please.”

  He swept his fingers, watching as she jerked, her eyes growing wide and blind as she cried out, long and loud. He spurred her on, sending her soaring. “Chase. Chase,” she called on a raspy scream.

  She shuddered out breath after breath as he hurried with the rest of his clothes and made his way up her body. He looked into her eyes. “I’ve never been inside you like this before.” When Julie was half-wild from pleasure.

  She pulled his mouth to hers, and he pushed himself inside.

  Arching, she tipped her head back on a throaty purr and came for the third time.

  “Jules. Julie.”

  “I can’t take anymore,” she struggled to say.

  He nodded. “One more.”

  “I don’t think I—”

  “Yes, you can. Let me show you.” His mouth never left hers as he fought to hold on, to bring her over one more time, wanting to take her with him.

  Her hips rocked faster and she called out to him, going over, clinging to him and shuddering. “Chase,” she said on a whisper close to his ear as they both caught their breath.

  He looked into her eyes and lifted her, bringing her with him to bed. He pulled back the covers and settled her against him, kissing her forehead.

  She stroked her fingers over his pecs. “I feel like I should say something after an experience like that.” She smiled at him.

  “Say you’ll stay in Boston with me.”

  Her smile vanished. “I’m not making decisions when I can barely think.”

  “So sleep on it.” He kissed her, playing it casual even when he was afraid she would leave him. “I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

  Her brow furrowed. “That’s not fair.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Sleep on it, Jules.”

  She nodded, and within minutes she was asleep in his arms.

  ~~~~

  Alyson smiled up at Mommy, then at Noah as they helped tip the bowl.

  “Slide your spatulas around and get all of that out of there.”

  She and Noah did what Mommy said.

  “That’s the way, Ally. Good job, Noah. I have the best little bakers.”

  “Can we lick the bowl?” Noah asked.

  “Can we, Mommy?” Ally chimed in.

  “A couple of tastes. You’ll be able to have a piece of cake after you eat a good dinner.”

  Ally and Noah stuck their fingers in the remains of the cake mix.

  “Mmm. Chocolate.” Ally beamed.

  Noah grinned. “You look like a clown, Ally. It’s all over your face.” He stuck his fingers in for another sample.

  “All right now, Mr. and Ms. Sticky Fingers. Come on over to the sink for a wash.”

  The phone rang.

  “Oh, shoot. I bet that’s your father. Stay right here while I answer. Don’t touch anything.”

  “Okay,” she and Noah said in unison.

  Mommy set the bowl out of reach on the counter and left the room.

  “Let’s have more,” Noah whispered. “One more taste each.”

  Ally covered her mouth, giggling. “Okay.”

  “I’ll taste first then I’ll help lift you up so you can have some too.”

  Ally nodded.

  Noah hurried to the counter, hoisted himself up on his elbows, and helped himself to more chocolate. “Okay. Your turn. Come over before she comes back.”

  Ally hurried over and Noah lifted her around the waist, grunting as he fought to stand still.

  She stretched forward, but the bowl was just out of her reach. “Higher. I can’t get it.”

  “You’re too heavy.” He set her down. “Stand on my back.” Noah got down on his hands and knees.

  Ally used the edge of the counter and Noah to get up, leaving a mess of smears behind.

  “Did you get some?”

  She teetered on Noah’s back, reaching in, tasting and reached in for more, her sticky, slippery hand losing purchase on the countertop. She gasped, teetering, and fell to the side. A quick sharp pain ripped at her arm before she landed with a nasty thud on the marble floor.

  “Ally,” Noah gasped. He scrambled around and his eyes grew wide. “You’re bleeding.” He hurried over and hugged her as she sobbed. “Mommy! Ally’s hurt!”

  Mommy rushed in. “Oh my gosh!” She ran over and scooped up Ally, grabbing a clean dishcloth from the drawer and pressing it to Ally’s arm. “Noah, we need to go to the hospital, honey. Hurry and get your shoes. You can put them on in the car.”

  “Is she going to be okay, Mommy?”

  “She’s going to be just fine.” Mommy smiled at her as she hugged her close. “You’re going to be just fine, my sweet little Ally.”

  “It hurts, Mommy,” Ally sobbed harder, burrowing her face into Mommy’s soft neck, breathing in her perfume.

  “We’re going to make it all better.”

  Julie gasped, opening her eyes and pressing her hand to her upper bicep, half expecting to see blood oozing from the gash where she’d hurt herself so long ago. But as she slid her fingers over the smooth skin of an injury healed twenty-five years ago, a tear tracked down her cheek. She hadn’t hurt her arm on a fence like Mom told her. She’d fallen and ripped her skin on the cupboard handle. And Noah and Neve had helped her. Her brother and mother. “No,” she whispered fiercely, shaking her head as the waves of fear overwhelmed her.

  Closing her eyes, she clenched her jaw and tensed her muscles until they ached, and still she trembled while her mind flashed through another onslaught of images she couldn’t keep from coming: Mickey and Minnie Mouse ears she and Noah wore in some huge crowd, sitting in Jay Porter’s lap as fireworks flew high in the sky, then her Mom and Gramps.

  My God, Miranda, do you have any idea what you’ve done? What in the hell are we going to do? How could you do such a thing to that sweet little girl upstairs?

  But she’d never found out what Mom and Gramps had argued about while she and Chase listened through her bedroom door, because Mom and Gramps left moments later to pick Gram up from her quilting class down in Spokane. Not long after Officer Kenny knocked on the door to tell her they were gone—dead in a fiery crash just outside of town. Her mother had been driving on that perfectly sunny summer day and collided with a tree—no skid marks—a horrible accident the authorities had never been able to explain.

  Had Gramps figured out she was Alyson Porter? Had Mom ended their existence to keep her secret safe? Julie shook her head, more than half sick thinking such awful thoughts. She yanked the covers back and rushed out of bed, grabbing Chase’s shirt still lying on the floor. She put it on, clutching her arms around herself as she moved to the window, looking out at the falling snow.

  “Jules?”

  “I’m over here.” She wiped at her damp cheeks. “Go back to sleep.”

  He sat up, scrubbing at his jaw. “What are you doing?”

  “Just taking a minute. I got a little too hot.”

  He got up and pulled on his boxers. “Why do you sound like you’re crying?”

  She shrugged and squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to collect herself.

  He walked to where she stood and tilted her face to the light filtering in through the windows. “What’s wrong?”

  Her lips trembled as she shuddered out a breath. “I had another dream.”

  He wrapped her up, sliding his hand down her back. “What was it about?”

  “I didn’t hurt my arm on a fence, Chase. I lost my balance and fell off of Noah’s back.”

  He held her tighter, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry this is so hard.”

  She eased away. “I don’t know why I’m so upset.” Sniffling, she fiddled with the buttons on the cuff of his shirt. �
�It might be a mistake. I could’ve dreamt what I did, because Neve told me about it the night we met for drinks,” she justified even as she knew her mind was trying to tell her what her heart refused to believe. She looked at him, waiting for him to placate her and tell her she was probably right. When he didn’t, she turned away, wanting to be angry but needing to share the rest. “Um, do you remember the day Mom and Gramps died?”

  “It’s pretty hard to forget.”

  “I mean before the crash.”

  He stepped up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not sure, honestly.”

  “They fought. You and I were screwing around on my bed, but we stopped when we heard Gramps raise his voice. Gramps never yelled.”

  He slid his palms down her arms. “He was a pretty mellow man.”

  “He asked Mom how she could do that to me.” She turned to face him again. “Do you remember how we wondered what Mom had done? How we joked about how Gramps called me a sweet little girl even though I was seventeen and you’d just had your hands down my pants?”

  “Now that you mention it, yeah.”

  “I completely forgot about it. Everything changed after Officer Kenny came to the door. That just came back to me now.”

  “Are you thinking their argument was about this?”

  “I don’t want to.” Her breathing grew unsteady again. “There were no skid marks at the crash site. I remember hearing one of the officers say that if they didn’t know my Mom better, they would’ve sworn she aimed for the tree. Maybe she did. What if she did, Chase?”

  He took her hand. “Come back to bed.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to dream again. I don’t want to think these ugly thoughts for one more second.”

  “So we’ll talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Boston.”

  “We don’t have to.” He cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to her forehead. “We don’t even have to go back to bed.” They walked to the couch and he lay down, making room for her to follow and snuggle her against his side. She nestled up next to him, settling her head on his chest, and slid her hands down to his waist, her fingers stopping on the wound half hidden by the edge of his underwear.