A look flashed over her face. He knew that look: hurt. Hell, he knew every one of Juliet’s facial expressions. From the day she’d caught the baseball he’d hit during a pick-up game at the park, he’d paid attention. She’d gone from being his friend to being female at that moment, one that was etched in his mind because it’d been so profound. Profound enough to shape the next twenty years of his life.
Juliet nodded and tucked the kitten into the crook of her neck beneath the fall of her hair as she headed back to the woman at the counter. He’d always loved Juliet’s hair. Soft and silky, long enough to get caught beneath her when he was on top… He’d loved threading his fingers through it afterwards with her head on his chest, her little puffs of breath skittering across his nipples, keeping the sensations of their lovemaking going.
God, he’d loved making love to her. She’d never held back. Had given him everything. Why in the hell hadn’t she trusted in what he’d felt for her to let nature take its course? She would have ended up with exactly what she’d wanted if she’d done nothing but love him.
And he would have had exactly what he’d wanted.
He watched her with the woman. Juliet was never still; some part of her was always moving. Her hand as she was talking, her toe tapping, her hips shifting as if she were dancing to music only she could hear. He’d loved to watch her.
He swiped a hand over his face. Some things hadn’t changed.
She glanced at him with an unguarded smile and it literally took his breath away. Juliet had always been so open, so honest, every emotion showing on her face. She couldn’t hide what she was feeling from him—or so he’d thought.
That was why her betrayal had hurt so badly. He never would have thought her capable of something as devious as rigging a pregnancy or setting the scene so her father would find them in bed together. Obviously, he didn’t know the woman he’d married as well as he thought he did.
But you want to.
That damn little voice. It always popped in when he didn’t want it to. When he’d be fixing breakfast in his apartment and it would wonder if Juliet was making those smiley-face pancakes she used to make him after football practice. Or when he’d be making his bed and remember her bending over the one in his room. Or the way her face lit up when she’d see him. Every time he looked in the mirror, he’d see Juliet’s face staring back for a second, but it was long enough to keep him from forgetting.
Looking at her now, how her right hip was cocked up, her toe tapping enough to shake her butt, he knew he’d never forget her.
Jesus. He wanted to.
Then she turned around again with a smile as big as the state they were in. The Juliet Smile he’d dubbed it. Everyone had called it that in high school. Juliet was known for that smile—and everyone knew that he was the reason she smiled like that.
It hurt. It physically hurt to see that smile on her face again, when what they’d had hadn’t been enough for her before.
Still, she practically skipped over to him with that smile, her blonde hair swishing behind her as if they were sixteen again.
“She’s mine! Your vet gave you a great reference and the lady said we can take her home now.” She grabbed his arm just like she used to, and for a minute, it felt as if they were back in high school. Back before Keegan, when the world was full of possibilities for them.
Then the kitten meowed, crashing them right back to reality, and Juliet pulled her hand away so fast it was as if she’d been burned.
No, that was him.
“Congratulations.” He tried to inject some warmth into his words because he was happy for her. As much as she’d hurt him, he could never hate Juliet. He just couldn’t ever trust her again. “Do you have a name?”
Juliet held the kitten up, nose to nose with her. “Not yet. I’m trying to figure out what she looks like.”
“A cat.”
“Funny.” This time, she swatted his arm and it made everything okay again.
“So I guess you’re going to need some supplies.”
“Oh, gosh, yes. Hadn’t really thought about that. Litter, food, some toys.”
“A bed. Bowls. A scratching post.”
She cocked her head. “You sound like you know about cats. Is that why you have a vet?”
“Had. I had a cat. Buddy. He adopted me one day. Kept showing up on my doorstep. Wouldn’t shut up until I opened the door, at which point, he dashed inside and no amount of coaxing could get him out. I guess Buddy had had it with winter and rain and being chased by other cats and he wasn’t giving up his safe and warm new home for anything. Thankfully, Dr. Bingham made house calls, which is how she knows that I have a safe environment for cats.”
“So who’s watching Buddy now?”
Tanner pointed up. “He died about six months ago.”
“You didn’t get another one?”
Tanner shrugged, not really wanting to go down this road. Losing things he cared about was tough so why put himself in that situation again on purpose? “Not the right time. I only had Buddy because he found me. With my lifestyle, pets aren’t really a good idea. But he was happy enough.”
He looked around and spied a big-ass bag of cat litter. He really didn’t want to talk about losing Buddy. It shouldn’t hurt so much to lose an animal he’d only had for three years, but it had. And it’d brought back painful memories. Sometimes the joy of having someone to care about was offset by the pain of losing them—pain he knew firsthand. “Here, I’ll get the litter. I’m assuming the woman made recommendations for what food to buy?”
“Yes. I’ll look for that.”
“Okay, I’ll pick up the scratching post and the bed, you do the food, bowls and toys, and we’ll meet at the registers in ten.”
“Race you.”
She got that damn impish smile and took off before he could reply. Not that he needed to; she knew he couldn’t resist a dare.
Images of claiming his victory—or losing to her because the prize was the same—flashed through his mind. Juliet beneath him in the football stadium that one night. Another time in the meadow at the far corner of their ranches. They were never sure whose property they’d been on that time, so they’d had to move around a few times that afternoon to make sure they christened both pieces of property. The land they would unite with their marriage.
Technically, it was united now. He’d hadn’t really thought about it since getting off that plane. No, he’d hit the tarmac and hadn’t looked back—as he’d been doing for the past seven years.
She’d never contacted him. Not that she could have, he supposed. His parents knew how to get in touch with him—well, they had his home address. He hadn’t told them what he was doing for a living. Didn’t want to scandalize them.
It was funny that he’d gone into dancing. Juliet had been the one to teach him to dance. To listen to his body’s rhythm and move to it. The rhythm that she’d put there.
So, yeah, he channeled her when he’d danced in the beginning, before he’d worked out his routine. Before he’d been comfortable. He’d channeled their time together, what it’d felt like to shimmy up against her. Remembering how she’d turned him on as she’d glide against him. He’d hated remembering, but his moves drove the club’s patrons nuts—he was the highest tip earner. A couple of the guys said it was because of his junk, but Bry had said he worked the crowd like a pro. Like a natural.
Loving Juliet had been the most natural thing in his life.
Jesus. He had to snap out of this. He was here for one reason and one reason only. Then he could get the deed to his father’s ranch, give Juliet the divorce papers, and he’d be gone. For good this time. There was nothing left for him here anymore, because all of it was tainted by the memories of Juliet.
“Tanner Wentworth, please report to checkout. Tanner Wentworth, please report to checkout.”
Juliet’s impish giggle followed at the end. No matter how stern she tried to sound, that giggle gave her away.
She’d won, dammit. While he
’d been standing here, paralyzed by the memories of the past, Juliet was moving full steam ahead into her future with her kitten… and without him.
For some reason, even though that’s what he wanted, the idea hurt.
Chapter Eleven
“What do you think about Buttercup?” Juliet set the bowl of water on the mat in her laundry room.
Tanner handed her the food bowl. “She’s not yellow.”
“Duchess?” She stood up and brushed off her hands.
He cocked his head—because the kitten wanted to lick his neck. “The cat was white in that Disney flick.”
She ran her hand over the kitten’s back. “How about Beauty?”
“Try Beast instead.” Tanner tugged the heathen’s claws out of his neck as he handed her back to Juliet.
“She just wants some lovin’ is all.” Juliet took the fuzzball from him.
“She might have better luck by sheathing her claws.” True in so many aspects of life...
Juliet hunched down to put the kitten on the mat by the food. “Do you think we should move the bowl away from her litter box? What if cats don’t, you know, like to do that near where they eat?”
Tanner hefted the container of litter onto the bottom shelf in the closet so Juliet could handle it after he left. “Can’t help you there. Buddy wasn’t all that finicky. As long as he had food, he didn’t care where I put it. Probably was just grateful he didn’t have to fend for himself.”
Something Tanner could relate to since he’d left.
Jesus. He didn’t need to go down that path. He also needed to get out of this laundry room. It was too damn small and Juliet’s perfume was too damn powerful.
Was she trying to kill him?
“So what’s the verdict? Beast?”
Juliet rolled her eyes. “I’m going to have to think about it a little more. See what she looks like.” She stroked the kitten’s fur. “What would you like to be called, baby?”
She’d stroked him and called him baby once upon a time.
He really needed to get the hell out of this laundry room.
Juliet let out the breath she’d been holding when Tanner left the laundry room. She’d never thought of it as a particularly small room, but with him in here… Yeah. It was. And she didn’t mean just physically. Tanner’s essence filled the room. She could still smell the soap he used—he didn’t do cologne. He didn’t need to.
She’d never done perfume either, preferring the lotion he’d bought her after they’d made love in a field of bluebonnets. They’d stumbled upon it at the mall and he’d used his pizza delivery money to buy it for her. She’d long ago used up the original tube, but had kept buying it. Scent was a powerful reminder and she’d never wanted to forget that afternoon in the field or what life had been like when Tanner had loved her. Now, maybe the scent would help him remember. So she’d given herself a couple of extra applications this morning and hoped for the best. Unfortunately, so far, she didn’t see any sign that he’d even smelled the scent, let alone remembered it.
But she wasn’t giving up. He was here, he was in her house, and if she ever had a chance of winning him back, this was it.
***
Two hours later she doubted winning him back would ever happen. For it to, he’d actually have to be around her. But while she and the kitten had been hanging out in the living room playing with an exhaustive amount of toys—she’d gone on a similar buying binge when she’d stocked Keegan’s nursery, which had been a real heartbreak to clean out—Tanner hadn’t left the guest room once.
She tossed the plastic ball with a bell in the center for the kitten to go after and the little thing scampered off, following the ball as it rolled—oh no. There was an opening at the end of the bookcase that she hadn’t realized was big enough for not only the toy, but also a kitten. And, of course, the kitten slipped through.
“Oh, no! Come back here!” Juliet climbed off her backside and crawled over to the bookshelf, grabbing the feather toy on her way. Maybe she could coax the kitten out with it.
A couple of flicks of the feather by the opening got a paw out and a little blue eye blinking in the darkness, but the opening was big enough for Juliet to get only her fingers through. No way to reach in and pull the kitten out.
Food. That was always an incentive. And not that dry stuff she’d bought; desperate times called for desperate measures.
Juliet opened a can of tuna. No cat could resist tuna.
Except this one apparently. The paw disappeared the minute the tuna showed up and so did the blue eye.
“Come on, baby.” Juliet took some tuna on her finger and stuck it into the opening.
Not even a lick.
“Okay, let’s try something else.” She headed back to the kitchen and grabbed a piece of cheese.
She got a sniff this time.
A smear of butter got a lick, and a piece of ham got her finger nipped.
But the kitten wasn’t coming anywhere near the opening. Not that Juliet was going to be able to get her out even if she did. The little Houdini was going to have to walk out on her own.
Juliet flopped back onto her butt after sprinkling some of the dry food in a path away from the opening. All that did was get the paw out to scrape the closest pieces inside.
She crossed her legs and plunked her chin into her palm. “Why was it so easy for you to go in there but too hard to come out?”
“You’re talking to the wall?”
Of course Tanner would catch her not at her best: when she’d been bested by a kitten. “I’m talking to the kitten, but I can’t tell if she’s listening.”
“You do know she can’t understand what you’re saying, right?” He hunkered down next to her. “Ah. She found a hole.”
“Is that what that is? I thought it was a pinprick, but somehow she managed to squeeze through.”
“Cats are like that.” He peered into it. “It doesn’t go anywhere, does it?”
“Go any—? Oh no!” Juliet jumped to her feet. “That’s the outside corner of the house. If there’s an opening—” She ran out the front door.
Great. Just great. If this kitten escaped, she’d be one more thing Juliet loved but couldn’t manage to hold onto.
She ran to the corner, running her palm over where the siding met the foundation, prying her fingers under it, feeling for a hole.
So far, so good. At least she didn’t have a basement to worry about.
She tried the other side, running her fingers under the edge of the siding, prying the vinyl back as much as possible, but she couldn’t feel any opening. It all seemed intact.
Standing up and brushing the hair out of her face, Juliet tried to catch her breath. She needed to calm down. She was overreacting. It was just a kitten stuck in a corner. She’d figure something out.
She headed back inside—and found Tanner on his stomach, a screwdriver in his right hand, his left next to the opening.
“Come on, sweetheart. It’s okay. You don’t need to be afraid. I’ve got you,” he crooned to the kitten.
And just like that, Juliet was transported back eleven years to when he’d held her after she’d given birth to Keegan and their world had come crashing down around them. She’d cried—God, how she’d cried—and Tanner had been there, crying with her, holding her, soothing her. Promising her there’d be more babies. That they’d get through it together.
She’d held on so tightly to him—her anchor in the floundering ship of her life then. But he hadn’t known then what she’d done. Hadn’t known that it was her guilt as well as her grief consuming her. She’d had to come clean. Had had to tell him to absolve herself of the guilt of creating Keegan before they’d been ready.
And then everything had gone to a worse depth of hell than she’d even imagined had existed.
“Come to papa, baby.”
His words—they hit her in the gut. Ripped it to shreds. Baby. Papa. Those were such special words and she’d made a mockery of them.
She reached for the back of the chair and lowered herself into it, trying not to cry.
Yeah, that didn’t work. She couldn’t not cry. For all that she’d lost. That they’d lost. What she’d cost Tanner.
She was crazy to think he’d even want to give them another try. She couldn’t understand why he was even here. If he’d been the one to ask her for help, after having done what she’d done, she might have told him to take a flying leap, regardless of the pain he was going through.
Tanner was a better person than she was—as evidenced by the kitten crawling out of the hole and curling into his palm.
“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you.”
His hand looked so big compared to the tiny kitten. So big yet so gentle.
How well Juliet remembered those hands on her. And she didn’t mean in a comforting way, though they had been that, too. But no, she was remembering those hands running all over her. How he’d touch her face so gently, cup her breasts, grip her hips, slide between her thighs—
She had to close her thighs then. Clench them against the ache that always started when she remembered making love with Tanner. Even when she’d seen him dancing in that club, she’d been turned on though she’d known he hadn’t been dancing for her. Everything Tanner did turned her on. Right down to crooning to a kitten.
“You might want to find a board or book or something to put in front of this hole, “ he said, not turning around as he continued to pet the kitten. “Now that she knows where it is, she’s going to want to keep going back.”
If that kitten was smart, she wouldn’t move from where she was right this minute.
“Good idea.” Juliet stood up and headed toward her garage. She had some wood scraps out there, and it’d give her time to regroup. She hadn’t expected to be assailed by memories every second she was around him. Had hoped that they could focus on the future, but their past kept overwhelming her.
Six minutes later, she was back with a couple of scraps, some screws, the cordless drill, and some stain.
Beefcake & Retakes Page 8