“Experiences, good and bad, happen every day. Mostly little ones. But they all add on to the pile that creates who we are. They change us. We’re all works in progress.” His expression was easygoing. His tone, suddenly, was not.
She put down her fork, pushed her half-eaten breakfast away.
It wasn’t that she disagreed with him. She didn’t. It was just that... “I don’t want to lead you on.”
She’d already said as much.
“Consider me warned.”
He wasn’t getting it. “Being jealous doesn’t mean I can follow through.” Sitting there in her expensive, glittery gown, feeling slender and feminine, across from him in the tuxedo that made him look like the sexiest man on earth, she let the words topple out.
She wasn’t sure she could have stopped them if she’d wanted to. This whole thing—him, them, Mandy showing up, egg cracking and laughter and Joy, that night by the pool...it was all affecting her.
Driving everything she said and did.
She was scared. Determined. And yearning for what she couldn’t have.
Because while the mind was powerful, it didn’t completely control, or have the ability to create, feelings. She couldn’t wish particular reactions into being, couldn’t think away the pain. She could make herself face her fears, but she couldn’t take away her ability to feel fear.
She had to tell him. It was the only way she was going to get through to him.
“I hate sex, Hunter. The thought of it repulses me. It doesn’t turn me on.”
Seeing Hunter with Mandy had made her want to like it, though. Which seemed kind of cruel...
“Was the rape your first sexual experience?”
The first three experiences. They’d been awful. Humiliating. Painful beyond belief. She still woke up with memories of that pain some nights.
The tapping of Hunter’s fork on his plate brought her gaze to his hands. To him. She nodded.
“Then of course you hate sex. What’s to like?” Relaxed in his chair, his expression was open. And...placid. He wasn’t horrified.
Or even surprised.
“You don’t care.” Disappointment flooded her. Another instance where no matter what the mind knew, no matter how good it was that he wasn’t hurt by her lack of interest—she still felt saddened that he didn’t want her in that way.
“What?” He frowned. Shook his head. “Of course I care. I’m thinking about killing the bastard. But that’s not what we’re talking about here. We’re talking about the realities you live with.”
He wanted to kill David. For her. He wouldn’t, of course. And she wouldn’t want him to. Hunter in jail for murder would be worse than being raped. But something small and tender came to life inside her.
And she had to stick with her realities. Just like he’d said.
“We’re talking about you understanding the truth.” So she could spend more time with him. If he asked.
If he even wanted to spend time with her after all this.
“Which truth is that?”
“That this isn’t going to lead to anything like what you have with Mandy.”
“I don’t want what I have with Mandy. I already have that.”
Well, that pretty much put her in her place. It relieved the heck out of her, and yet hurt her feelings.
“Good, then,” she said, collecting silverware on one plate and putting that plate—hers, the one with food still on it—on top of the other. “I hate sex and you don’t want it with me. It’s all out in the open now.” She started to rise, intending to head into the kitchen with the dirty dishes. To clean up. Say good-night. Go upstairs to Amy.
No, to bed. It was late. She needed rest.
“I never said I didn’t want it with you.”
She fell back into her chair, heart pounding and belly fluttering. Again. The thought of sex appalled her. Hunter wanting her...didn’t.
It should. The idea of a man, any man, wanting to touch her private parts, to enter them, made her shudder. Hunter wanting her... Her belly fluttered even more wildly.
What the hell was going on with her?
“Since we’re being honest here, I’ve got it bad where you’re concerned, Jules. Real bad. Worse than ever.”
He was teasing her. She could tell by the grin. But there was a serious look in his eyes, too.
He leaned forward. He didn’t touch her, but his face was only inches away. “I want you like I’ve never wanted a woman before. When I lie in bed at night, I think of you lying there beside me. I think about touching you...”
What was he doing? What was going on? What was happening? She licked her lips. Fought panic. And more belly flutters.
Her studio was right above them. Her brother in the next wing. She didn’t want to leave her seat.
Even while panic threatened to consume her.
“And now I’m going to be thinking about ways to show you that sex doesn’t have to hurt. Ways to slowly introduce you to the incredible pleasures a woman’s body can feel. Ways to help you relax, one step at a time. Not with intercourse in mind, just pleasure.”
Her mouth was thick, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She was tired. Mindless with fatigue. Him there, in her kitchen, the two of them talking, laughing... Her emotions were overwhelmed.
What he was saying was typical Hunter gibberish. It sounded...wonderful. But life didn’t work that way. She’d been robbed of her body’s ability to respond.
Just as she’d been robbed of the ability to walk into a group of her social peers at night without a panic attack or two. David Smyth Jr. had taken her capacity to trust and turned it into a need to question. He’d made her afraid of her own shadow.
“But here’s the thing.” Hunter rubbed the top of her hand with one finger. Slowly. When she glanced at him, he was staring directly into her eyes. “I know you don’t have the same thoughts about all of this. I understand that you’re in a completely different place.”
She didn’t want to be. Tears blurred her vision.
“And I’m okay with that as far as you and I are concerned.”
Because he didn’t care the way she did. She didn’t say the words out loud. They wouldn’t be fair. To either of them.
“I’m okay with it on one condition.”
She blinked. Looked him in the eye. Wanting. Doubting him. Wanting... “What condition?”
“It’s not really a condition.” He sat back, no longer stroking her hand.
She missed his touch. “What is it?”
As he withdrew, she felt stronger. Needing to go to him, which made no sense, either. She didn’t try to figure it out.
“What bothers me, really bothers me, is that now the gala’s over, and as soon as Joy’s life is straightened out, as soon as she has a home outside The Lemonade Stand, I’m not going to see you anymore.”
That bothered her, too.
When she didn’t say anything, he leaned forward again. “I want a real friendship with you, Julie. I want this—late-night talks about real things. Glasses of wine by your pool. I want to have you over to play video games and teach you how to surf. This is a first for me. Whatever it is. This...spell you have on me. I just need to know that you’re willing to be part of my life.”
There was no blinking back the tears now. They spilled over, trailed down her cheeks.
She wanted a hug, but was afraid to have his arms around her.
“I want that, too,” she said.
And hoped she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
HUNTER TOOK THE JAG out now and then, just to keep the engine running. Keep the dust out. Make sure nothing rotted or went dry from lack of use.
Maintaining that car was a labor of
love. A reminder of how he’d almost screwed up his entire life. That he probably would have if not for the father who’d cared enough to guide him in the right direction.
A reminder that just because something looked bad, because it brought trouble and pain, didn’t mean good couldn’t come of it. His partying in high school had been self-destructive. He’d hurt a lot of people, his parents and himself included. Led some kids down the wrong track with him.
And now his love of the party was a means by which hundreds of thousands of dollars went to worthy charities every year.
So sex was off the table with Julie. That very fact was providing the opportunity for something he’d never had before. A real friendship.
If he wasn’t mistaken, she was showing him how to have a committed relationship. And it wasn’t leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
On the contrary, he felt better, more alive, than he’d felt in a long time when he backed the Jag out of the drive Friday afternoon on his way to the Stand to pick up Julie and Joy.
A feeling that only intensified as the three of them drove along the highway an hour later, the ocean on one side of them, treed hills and homes on the other, the wind in their hair, and the car’s heater blowing at their feet. He took a dip in the road just right, and Joy laughed out loud from her position in the back seat.
He glanced at Julie. She was smiling at him.
That was what it was all about.
* * *
LILA AND EDWARD were waiting for them when they got back to the Stand just before dinnertime. Expecting them to take Joy into the cafeteria for dinner, leaving her to get in her own car and go home, Julie was surprised when Lila, instead, handed Joy off to her house mother and asked Hunter and Julie to join her in her office.
Edward was there, too. He sat in a chair by the desk, while Hunter and Julie took the couch. She felt as if she was in the principal’s office. As if she and Hunter had done something wrong.
Slumping on the couch Julie had a moment of panic as she wondered if Lila had guessed that she and Hunter had talked about sex.
Then she straightened up. She was a grown woman. Successful. Capable. And was permitted to do whatever she wanted in her personal life. She also knew that Lila would be the first to say so.
The older woman, in her usual brown pants and jacket, leaned back against her desk, facing them. Her expression didn’t bode well.
A glance at Edward showed Julie that the other man’s expression was grim.
Oh, God. Cara.
How could she have been so wrapped up in her own nonsensical emotions to the point of—
“Mary Amos died this afternoon.” Lila’s words fell like bombs in the room.
Not Cara. Julie felt immediate relief. And then sorrow. The poor woman, killed by her own brother, her only living blood relative, other than Joy.
And Joy... From what Julie had heard, the little girl had loved her aunt Mary. Trusted her enough to hide with her and not make a sound even when she’d seen her mother hauled off by the monster her father had become.
“When are you going to tell Joy?” she asked.
Lila looked at Edward, who bowed his head. “Not yet,” she replied. “Not until she’s speaking normally and has had a chance to adjust to having Edward in her life.”
Not until they’d had more time to find the little girl’s mother. If they could bring Cara home, she’d be the best person to help Joy deal with Mary’s death.
In the midst of this latest reality, Julie’s world righted itself again. The possibility of having sex—or not—was a small thing compared to life and death. To the raising of a child. To helping her become healthy and happy.
Hunter’s silent presence beside her seemed to amplify her own thoughts. She was glad he was there, not just in this room, but with her. Committed to being her friend. With his support, she felt better able to do whatever they needed her to do in order to help Joy cope.
“So...with Mary gone, Edward and Cara are Joy’s only living relatives. Close relatives. For now, social services have placed her in his care. Paperwork will follow to make him her legal guardian until her mother returns...”
Her voice trailed off. Julie knew what hadn’t been said. And in case she doesn’t return. That was a higher than ever possibility with Mary’s death in front of them. Cara was with a man who’d killed his own sister. Such a fiend probably wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to the wife he’d also beaten.
“You’re Joy’s guardian.” Hunter’s words reminded Julie of the other part of this situation.
Edward nodded. He had to be happy about having legal custody of the little girl. And yet, under these circumstances...
“How are you doing?” Hunter asked him next. Sounding nothing like the party man she’d met months before. But exactly like the man she’d come to know. The one who could intuitively sense when someone was struggling. And then try to lighten the load.
“We’re going to be just fine,” Edward said, glancing at Lila.
“Edward’s leaving her here, with us, for now,” Lila said. The two exchanged another glance. “We’re going to continue spending time with her. We’re hoping you’ll do more positive grandfather work with your art sessions,” she said to Julie.
“I won’t take her away from here until I know it’s not going to be detrimental to her,” Edward said. “At least not if I can help it.”
He mentioned that he was thinking of taking Joy to his hotel for dinner and to play in the games room for a little while. To get her used to being with him outside of The Lemonade Stand. “I was hoping you’d come along sometime,” he said to Hunter. “She likes you.”
“Of course, I will.” Hunter’s response was immediate. “And she likes you, too,” he added.
Julie listened to the plans being made around her. She loved that Joy had so many people watching out for her. She grieved a bit, too. Selfishly. And for Mary Amos.
The woman had died alone. Without anyone who loved her by her side.
Sometimes life wasn’t perfect. Far from it.
Other things were changing, too. Their plans with Joy were changing.
Julie with Joy. On her own. For art therapy.
Hunter and Edward with Joy, on their own. Solidifying the family they’d become.
Lila at the Stand with Joy.
Their foursome was breaking up.
Just as she’d known it would.
* * *
HUNTER HAD SPENT eight hours engrossed with business tasks before taking the Jag out on Friday. Much as he wanted to ask Julie to have dinner with him as they left the Stand, after saying goodbye to Edward and Lila who were going to the hotel with Joy for dinner, he knew he needed to get home. He had to exchange the Jag for his Escalade and head over to the hospital event that Kyle was hosting. Not to check up on him. Just to schmooze. The Time of Your Life was his economic mainstay. His support and his grounding, too.
He needed grounding.
News of Mary’s untimely death, of Edward suddenly being the sole legal caregiver of a seven-year-old child, had brought him back to reality.
If he didn’t focus on the party, life would overwhelm him.
Julie didn’t seem all that disappointed when he told her he had to go home to change and get to work. She didn’t ask him about the night’s party.
She said goodbye and got in her car.
She didn’t wave as she pulled out and drove past him.
He didn’t wave, either.
But he wanted to.
He decided he had to call her.
They’d had a great time with Joy that afternoon. Yeah, they’d been met with grim news—but it was good news, too, for Edward. And for Joy, even if she didn’t know it yet.
The little girl would be safe and secure and loved, no matte
r what happened. She wasn’t going to be in foster care, regardless of how things turned out with her mother.
They should be celebrating.
He was about to call Julie, but his phone rang before he’d actually done it.
Mandy.
He was truly not happy to see her name pop up on his screen. Which wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
Anything different.
He was the who was acting differently, who seemed to be changing.
“Hey, Sexy, what’s up?” His cheerful voice sounded like overkill to him. Hopefully she hadn’t noticed.
“Now that’s what I like to hear on the other end of the line when I call my main man,” she said.
Her main man? That was a new one, and, perhaps oddly, it rankled. But, hey, they’d had lots of nicknames for each other over the years.
And it wasn’t like she’d said only man. He wasn’t her only man. They’d never been each other’s only. And that had worked both ways. Mandy saw other men. He knew that for sure.
“So what’s up?” he asked again, making a turn and then another. A couple of miles on a straight stretch of highway and he’d be home. Fifteen minutes to change into a tux and he’d be out the door.
“You, I hope. With me. Whenever you’re done tonight, meet me at Yank’s.” She named a club they’d been to many times over the years. It was in Oxnard. She had a place there.
“I’d love to, Man, but I can’t tonight. It’s been one hell of a week. I’ve got a couple of bids to do and some follow-up reports.”
“On a Friday night?”
He understood her disbelief. He’d never worked on a Friday night after a gig. He was always too wound up. Ready to have a good time.
“I told you, this week’s been crazy.” He couldn’t tell her about Joy. Or didn’t want to. Joy and Edward...Mandy wasn’t in that part of his life. As far as he could remember, she’d never asked him if he had living parents, let alone known anything about them.
It said something about his life that, until this moment, it hadn’t even seemed strange to him.
“You sure it’s not that beauty in black who’s keeping you away from me?” A sultry, pouty tone entered her voice. One she used in bed.
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