Julie met the full heat of his eyes squarely, refusing to show, even slightly, how much his scrutiny was affecting her. “I can fight my own battles,” she told him.
Something shimmered over the surface of his blue eyes, something warm and bright, reminding her of dawn rising over the ocean. His mouth twitched once before curling upward at the corners, revealing straight white teeth. They nipped on the full curve of his bottom lip and he finally broke her of his spell by lowering his gaze to his feet.
He wore motorcycle boots, worn jeans, and a white t-shirt under a leather jacket. There was a silver ring on his left thumb and another on his ring finger that glinted under the sharp lights of the kitchen when he swept his hand back through his dark brown hair. He chuckled quietly, shook his head before lifting his face and capturing her all over again.
“I don’t remember you having those claws, Jewels.”
It was an innocent enough remark, yet it snapped through her like the silver studded tip of a whip. She almost hissed at the burn it left against her stiffening spine.
“Or maybe you just never really knew me.” She offered him a slight quirk of her lips in an almost sardonic smirk that never touched her eyes. “I’ve outgrown many of my bad habits.”
He searched her face, her eyes ... seemingly her soul, with an intensity that somehow felt more personal than having sex. Julie, who was neither shy about loving sex nor was prone to blushing easily, felt the familiar tug at the pit of her stomach. She also wasn’t ignorant enough to chalk the ripple of arousal as her body’s way of reminding her it had been twelve damn months since she’d gotten any. Nope. Despite her brain and heart donning battle armor and getting ready for war against temptation, her body was all but ready to let Mason Brody do to her exactly what his eyes promised.
“They must not have been very worthwhile habits if you were able to let them go so easily,” he remarked with a careful undertone that enticed a person to sin. “Because the really good ones, the ones that tie you up inside and keep you up at night...” He sucked in a deep, lusty breath through his teeth. “They never really leave you, do they, Julie?”
The cacophony of noise slamming around between her ears made it impossible to hear herself think. Her heart was a wild horse pounding between her ribs, made louder by her inability to catch her breath. She wanted nothing more than to laugh in his face and tell her he had no power over her, that she was immune to his charms and sexy good looks, but her tongue had superglued itself to the roof of her mouth and all coherent thought had fled from her mind.
She was nothing if not completely captivated by him, and she hated herself for it.
“I have an early morning,” she blurted. “Goodnight.”
Julie turned on her heels and stalked as casually as she could muster from the room without full on bolting.
No one stopped her. More importantly, she didn’t faceplant in her haste. She was free and clear.
She didn’t expel the ball of air from her lungs until she reached the top of the stairs, and only then did she let herself crumble, slumping against the wall and mashing her face into trembling hands. Her hands were cold and clammy and her knees trembled, threatening to abandon her in a heaping mess on the ground.
Get a grip! Get a grip! It was only a week. Only a week.
Releasing a sound between a whine and a sob, Julie pushed away from the wall and willed herself to place one foot in front of the other as she made her way to the first door.
Wendy was spread eagle across the roped sheets, arms and legs draped over the edges of the mattress. In the next room, Rick was a small bundle under the blankets, mouth slightly gaping, hair a mess. Julie partially closed their doors and moved to Dustin’s room.
The boy sat on his bed, clearly waiting for her.
“Where’s Mason?” he asked, in a tone that suggested he suspected she’d killed him and gotten rid of the body.
“Downstairs,” she told him.
“Is he staying?”
Julie nodded. “You’ll see him in the morning.”
Dustin didn’t show it, but his eyes lit up. “That’s cool.” He slid under the sheets.
Julie offered him a slight smile as she began closing the door.
In her room, she shut the doors behind her and leaned against them, her bravado once again melting into shaken nerves. Of all the men to waltz uninvited back into her life, why did it have to be him? It seemed like such a horrible joke. What was worse was the fact that he had once again reverted her back to that clumsy, star-struck idiot she’d been at fifteen.
She shook her head slowly.
This was not going to end well.
Chapter Three
It felt like no time passed between her crawling into bed and the rude chirping of her alarm, yet the numbers on her phone insisted she had slept a full five hours.
Liar. She had a feeling evil, meddling fairies had deliberately set the time forward just to aggravate her. But with no way to prove such things existed, she was forced to heave her weary body out of bed and into the bathroom.
The shower helped wake most of her up. Her brain was still a foggy mess when she tumbled out of the tub and dressed in shorts and an off the shoulder top. The little weather icon on her phone had promised a bright, sunny day and while the sky was still an indecisive smear of crimson and gold, Julie figured she might as well give the illusion she was ready for the day.
Early morning silence followed her downstairs twenty minutes later. All the doors along the hallway to the stairs were closed, indicating that she was the only person awake, which suited her just fine.
Unlike her mother, who was part rabid dog and part zombie first thing in the morning, Julie preferred the quiet calm before the world stirred to life around her. It was another reason she had moved to her own place. She liked being the only person awake to watch the sunrise with a cup of her favorite brew cradled in her hands.
At home, the sun rose over the backs of wet, filthy buildings and the alleyway that separated her apartment from the porn shop next door. It hadn’t been easy pretending nothing existed but the slow rise of dawn, but she had. Looking out the wall of glass to a world shimmering a spectacular hue of rich gold that danced through miles of rippling fog, Julie knew she would never be able to go back.
Mesmerized, she braved the early morning chill and padded onto the patio. She was immediately surrounded by the fresh scent of moist grass, pine, and wet soil. The crisp breeze blew through her damp hair, making her shiver. She held herself as she watched soft rays of light shatter over the frost that had settled overnight. It was all a thing of dreams. She almost hated herself for not thinking to bring her phone. Scenery like that needed to be photographed and remembered forever. She prayed she would get another chance.
Leaving the doors open wide, she slipped back inside. Her bare legs were cold, as were her cheeks, but she ignored both as she set out making breakfast.
Dustin was the first to arrive, still clad in his pajamas, brown hair in disarray. Wendy was next, followed by a blurry-eyed Rick who yawned noisily and dropped into a chair at the table. Wendy hopped up on a stool at the counter and sniffed loudly at the air.
“Pancakes!” she chimed, kicking her legs excitedly.
“I hate pancakes,” Dustin muttered from his spot across from Rick.
“And that is why...” Julie swept the lid off a steaming plate. “I made you French toast and I even warmed up the syrup.”
Dustin’s face perked, but only slightly, and it was quickly straightened to a mask of indifference. “That’s okay, I guess.”
Julie had learned long ago not to let Dustin’s flippant teenage attitude provoke her. He was thirteen, the eldest of three and the only one between them who really understood what was happening to his family. Wendy and Rick, who were nine and seven, still believed they were on vacation, despite being told to the contrary. Julie was certain they didn’t quite understand the full severity of the situation their parents were going through, b
ut Dustin did, and for someone who practically lived with the family most weeks and weekends, Julie had seen firsthand just how vicious, and sometimes violent, the fights got.
Putting on her best smile, Julie ushered everyone to the table. She filled their plates with pancakes and French toast and made sure they had orange juice in their cups before moving back to the other side of the island. She drowned the pans and bowls, letting them soak in hot water while she scrubbed the counters before the batter could crust over. The children, mostly Rick and Wendy, chattered on about all the things they wanted to do around mouthfuls. Julie listened with only half an ear. She was semi-focused on lunch and supper when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and her entire body tensed a split second before the room erupted with cries of, “Mason!”
He wore flannel bottoms that hung over his sock clad feet and a white t-shirt, the same t-shirt, she was sure, as the one he’d been wearing the night before. There were pillow marks on his right cheek that was barely concealed beneath the full day’s growth on his jaw, which was doing incredibly dangerous things to her restraint. His hair was forced back carelessly from his face, by his fingers no doubt, and his eyes were heavily lidded with sleep. Nevertheless, he grinned lazily and something pitched inside Julie.
His laugh was deep and masculine and made goose bumps scatter along Julie’s arms and a shiver pass up her spine. Her fingers tightened on the damp rag she’d been using to scrub at the oven top.
Wendy was out of her seat first and bolting across the kitchen to throw herself into Mason’s arms. He caught her like she weighed nothing and hoisted her up into the air. Rick hurried after his sister and was pulled against Mason’s hip with one hand pressing between the boy’s shoulder blades. Wendy was perched on his other hip for better support.
“Man, I missed you brats,” Mason told them, beaming from ear to ear. “You’ve grown.”
Wendy looped her thin arms around his throat and squeezed so tight Julie was afraid Mason’s head might pop off.
“We missed you!” the younger girl declared and planted a loud, wet kiss to Mason’s bushy cheek.
Rick squeezed his eyes closed and circled Mason’s waist with both arms. He looked like a kid at Christmas, clutching his most prized present. Julie felt herself melt, felt her lips curl. Then she caught herself.
Before he graduated high school and left for university, Mason had been their babysitter. Julie remembered all too well sitting at her bedroom window, watching them as he would chase the three around the yard next door. Their squeals and giggles could be heard for miles. He had always been really good with them, as Maureen had been kind enough to point out on the phone the night before. But his love for his cousins was never in question. It was his inexplicable ability to turn her inside out that worried Julie.
“Hey, bro.” Mason grinned lopsidedly at Dustin, who had yet to get out of his chair. “How’s it hanging?”
Dustin was more suave about the greeting. He meandered over like he was swaggering into a high end club and casually bumped his fist against Mason’s.
“It’s hanging,” Dustin said casually. “Does Mom know you’re here?”
Mason shuffled deeper into the room with Rick still clinging to his leg like a baby kola. He grunted slightly under all the weight, which made Wendy giggle and grip tighter to his neck.
“I talked to her last night,” he told Dustin.
“Did she say you could stay?” Rick chimed, tilting his head back to peer up into Mason’s face with wide blue eyes.
“She did.” Whoops and squeals filled the sunbaked kitchen at the news. Mason dumped Wendy into her chair and hoisted Rick up. He dropped the seven year old into his chair as well, freeing himself of children. “You guys are up way too early. What happened to sleeping in?”
“I smelled pancakes,” Wendy said. “Julie makes the best pancakes in the whole world.”
Those unfathomable blue eyes slid to the side and caught Julie in their web. “Does she now?”
Wendy nodded enthusiastically, making her brown bob swing wildly around her small face. “Have you ever tried them?”
“No,” Mason said slowly, still watching Julie. “I can’t say I have. She seems to be full of surprises lately.”
Torn between pitching the rag at him and bolting from the room, Julie found a small balance by turning away with the pretense of scrubbing the pots in the sink. But even while pretending not to notice, Julie could feel his eyes roaming over the expense of her back. Her skin prickled with heat and she had to stave off a shiver. Her better judgment lost the war and she stole a peek over her shoulder. Sure enough, his gaze clashed with hers instantly.
“I ate them all!” Wendy announced proudly. “I eat a lot. Mom says I have a black hole in my stomach.”
Mason mussed her hair fondly, but a little absently. He moved away from the table and wandered casually forward until only the island separated him from Julie. His palms pressed flat against the marble and he leaned forward.
“What does a guy have to do to get a stack of those pancakes?”
Refusing to be deterred by his captivating presence, Julie gestured to a nearby plate of French toast. “There’s French toast left if you—”
“French toast and I had a falling out a few years back.” He bit his lip in a way that was more than a little distracting to her senses. “I’d really like your pancakes, Jewels.”
Was he seriously trying to seduce her into making him breakfast after everything that had happened? It was absurd and yet...
Seizing a calming breath, she shook soap suds and water from her hands and turned to him.
“Everything you need is in that cupboard there.” She pointed to the pantry. “Except the milk and eggs, and don’t call me Jewels.” Drying her hands on the rag she snatched off the counter, she turned her attention on the kids. “Why don’t you guys get dressed? We’ll go for a hike.”
“I don’t want to go for a hike,” Dustin griped. “We’re on vacation.”
“I want to go!” Rick said, raising his arm into the air.
“Can I stay?” Dustin ignored his brother. “I’m old enough to be alone.”
“I think...” Julie hooked the rag onto the handle of the oven. “You can use some sun. Afterwards, once the water warms up, maybe we can try out the lake.”
Wendy and Rick were out of the room before Julie even finished. Dustin glared at her as though she’d suggested he gut a kitten with a box opener.
“The lake is disgusting. That’s why we have a pool.”
“Dustin,” Julie said slowly, trying to remind herself he was really a good kid behind the brat mask he wore. “You’re not going to fester on the sofa for the next four weeks playing Minecraft. We are going to go out, enjoy the weather, and have some fun.”
“I’m not a little kid!” Dustin snapped, leaping to his feet with such force, his chair skidded back and hit the floor with a deafening crash.
“Whoa, dude!” Mason turned to the younger man. “Chill.”
Pink spots appeared on Dustin’s cheeks. His balled hands trembled at his sides as he glowered from Mason to Julie. His glasses caught the light and glinted.
“Why are you taking her side?” Dustin accused hotly.
“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” Mason soothed. “But I do think you’re being a little harsh.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Come on. It sounds like fun. I’ll even join you.”
Dustin’s jaw worked like he was chewing steel, but he mashed his lips together and stormed from the room, muttering unintelligibly under his breath.
Julie exhaled once he was gone and folded her arms over her abdomen. “He’s usually a good kid,” she said, feeling the need to defend the boy. “He’s just having a hard time right now, what with the divorce and all.”
“Yeah, but that’s no excuse to be a little shithead,” Mason replied evenly.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what his excuse had been four years ago, but she opted agains
t it and averted her gaze.
“Maybe.”
She heard him shuffle and looked back in time to watch as he planted both forearms on the counter and leaned in.
“So, listen.” He cleared his throat. “I think we got off on the wrong foot last night.”
Her brow lifted with interest. “Think so, huh?”
He rolled one broad shoulder in a shrug. The corner of his mouth lifted in that lopsided grin that made her heart miss a beat. “I’ve certainly never been ambushed before by a bat wielding maniac.”
Julie gasped in amused outrage. “Maniac?”
“Come on.” He straightened. “Even you have to admit that was like James Bond crazy.”
Julie huffed, folding her arms. “First I’m a maniac, now I’m crazy. Anything else?”
He groaned and dropped his chin forward. His eyes closed in a grimace. “I have never had this much trouble talking to a girl.”
“I’m finding that hard to believe.” She circled around the island to gather the dishes off the table.
He was studying her when she turned back. There was contemplation in his expression and something else that lit her skin on fire. The dishes in her hands rattled as her nerves jittered anxiously. The sound jolted her back to the present and she quickly ducked her head and hurried past him. She dropped the plates and cutlery into the soapy water and stayed to watch them sink to the bottom. Anything to keep from looking at him again.
“Julie...”
She didn’t budge, except to squeeze her eyes closed tight. She prayed he would go away and leave her alone with what was left of her sanity. But he stayed.
“Will you please look at me?”
It was only because of the mature voice in her head, reminding her she was an adult and that ignoring him was childish, that she braced herself and turned.
The expression on his face could only be described as pleading, maybe even guilt ridden and agonizing. It was not something she had ever seen there before, not on him. In all the years she had known him, he had never been anything but confident and so sure of himself. Now he was watching her with eyes that begged her to hear him out.
Kissing Trouble Page 4