“What did you have in mind?”
That definitely worked. His grin was wicked and she realized how much she had missed him last night too.
“There’s a death by chocolate cake inside I planned to serve, but—”
Feeling bold, Charlotte rose to her feet and tugged him to his. “It can wait until later, right?”
In a flash, she was in his arms and he was kissing her. She felt all of his pent-up anger, frustration, and all of the emotions she’d been watching him deal with tonight. It was a heady feeling, and as she wrapped herself around him, she knew she was struggling with them, too. But when they were like this, everything else faded away. All she could focus on was the feel of Julian—the warmth of his body, the way his hands felt as they moved over her—and she wanted more.
As if he sensed her thoughts, he lifted her. Charlotte wrapped her legs around his waist, more than happy to let him take her wherever it was he wanted to have her. They’d made love in just about every room of the house, and it really wasn’t about where they were, but how fast they could get there.
Now.
She really was hoping for right now.
“Julian,” she murmured against his lips.
“I know, baby,” he said and placed her on the sofa. The sliding doors were open and the night air was cool and salty and just served to heighten her senses.
There was no finesse.
There was little foreplay.
It had only been one night apart and yet she was equally frantic for him.
Warning bells should have been going off in her head—this was too soon, too intense, too…everything—yet they weren’t. And if they were, they were drowned out by the sounds they were making along with the noise of the outside world drifting in.
She was naked before she even realized he’d been undressing her. When he stood and stripped, she licked her lips in anticipation. His body was like a work of art—it didn’t matter how many times she’d seen it, touched it, kissed it, it still made her go weak. No man should be so sculpted and sexy and perfect, and she had to keep from pinching herself to make sure this wasn’t a dream.
He was hers.
And she was his.
And if this was a dream, she hoped she’d never wake up.
* * *
“So, what’s your favorite place to travel to?” Charlotte asked later that night as Julian fed her a piece of chocolate cake while they were snuggled under a blanket on the couch.
He thought about it for a minute and took a forkful of cake for himself. “On our second world tour we had a couple of dates in London and had a week off before we moved on. Riley went home to visit his family, Dylan partied his way around London, and Matt went to Paris for a week to visit some friends. I just wanted a little peace and quiet and didn’t want to go far because it felt like we were constantly on the move. The day of our last performance, I was hanging out at the arena and there was this older guy sweeping up around the place. I asked him where he’d go if he only wanted to travel an hour from home and just wanted a little down time.”
“And what did he say?”
“East Sussex,” he said. “More specifically, the town of Rye.” He fed her another bite of cake. “I had nothing to lose, so I made some calls and rented a place for a week, and it was one of the greatest weeks ever.”
She smiled as she listened to him, because even if he didn’t give her any other details, she could hear in his voice how much he loved it.
“It was a two-hour train ride out of London, but I didn’t care. It was an incredibly scenic ride and it was the perfect choice after all the noise and chaos of the tour.”
“What kind of things were there to do in town?”
He shrugged. “It’s not really a tourist place—which was perfect for me—but the architecture and the town itself was really beautiful. It’s a shipping town and used to be completely surrounded by water.” He sighed and took another bite of cake for himself. “I just enjoyed walking around and learning the history.”
“Have you ever gone back?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Never had the time.”
“You haven’t been back to London since?”
“We have, but…” He paused. “It’s not important. What about you? What’s your favorite place to travel to?”
She knew a diversion when she heard one, but right now she didn’t want to be diverted. Turning, she faced him head on. “I find it hard to believe that with all the time off since touring that you haven’t made the time to go back to a place you loved.”
He shrugged again. “It wasn’t meant to be. Been there, saw that…you know the rest.”
“Julian,” Charlotte began patiently, “I really wish you wouldn’t shut down when we’re talking. I could tell you had more to say and then you just stopped. What were you going to say? Please.”
For a solid minute he didn’t say anything. Hell, he barely blinked. She saw the instant he resigned himself to it.
“When the band first started touring, I did stuff like that a lot when we had a couple of days off. I don’t mind staying in hotels, but I like my privacy, and believe it or not, I’m kind of a homebody. So even if I couldn’t be home…”
“You wanted it at least to feel like a home,” she finished for him.
“Exactly.” He paused. “Anyway, when Dena and I started dating, she begged to come on tour. I didn’t have a problem with it and as long as we were going from city to city, we were fine. But the first break in the action, when I had rented a place in advance and told her where we were going, she got pissed. She ruined the entire week for me with her complaining and bitching about being away from everything and how she hated having to cook for herself and do her own laundry. I shrugged it off that first time and figured she was just enjoying life on the road. But it wasn’t that at all—she just liked having people waiting on her and always wanted to be where the party was. So I stopped renting places after a while.”
“That hardly seems fair. She got to be happy and have her way and you didn’t?”
“Pretty much.”
“Wow.”
He fed her the last piece of cake and placed the empty plate on the coffee table in front of them. “I got used to it.”
“But it makes you angry to think about.”
“Well, yeah,” he said with a humorless laugh. “I was paying for everything and never got to do what I wanted.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
Finally.
Charlotte took a minute to think about her next words carefully. She adjusted the blanket and put a little space between them. “How long into the relationship before you realized there were issues?”
Then she held her breath and hoped he wasn’t going to shut her down and walk away.
“Six months,” he admitted as he looked down at his hands, the blanket…pretty much anywhere that wasn’t directly at Charlotte.
And to her surprise, he kept talking.
“It was after that tour when I knew there were problems. Enough that I seriously was ready to throw in the towel. The problem was—at first—Dena put on a good show for everyone. She was a freaking delight to everyone we met—including my parents. So, when I mentioned how I wanted to break up with her, both of my folks got on me about it. They always told me that you have to work hard for the things you want, how all relationships have their ups and downs, and how I needed to try to exhaust every option before calling it quits.”
Charlotte nodded, thinking it was admirable of him.
Then he looked at her. “My parents weren’t particularly close. Never have been, never will be. I can’t ever remember seeing them show affection for one another, although they were always very respectful to each other. I thought that’s how relationships were supposed to be. Except—for me—they never were. I’m not like that. When
I’m with someone, I enjoy laughing and kissing and touching…” He gave her a lopsided grin. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“I have, and I’ve enjoyed it very much,” she said lightly, hoping he would continue.
“The first time I found out Dena had cheated, my parents were visiting. I was mortified. Like, seriously mortified. It wasn’t until later on that I realized I was more upset about my parents witnessing it than I was about her cheating.”
Yikes.
“We fought, with my parents in the next room, and Dena stormed out. My dad never said a word to me about it, but my mom came out and we talked through the night.”
“And what did she say?”
At this point, Julian reclined and let his head fall back against the cushions as he sighed. “She told me how when I was little, she’d had an affair. She took full responsibility for it, even though she said it was because she was lonely and she wished my dad was more…affectionate, caring, emotional. It wasn’t that she was in love with this other man, she just wanted to feel something from someone.”
“Oh, Julian. I’m so sorry,” she said softly, but he wasn’t really listening. He seemed to be lost in his memory.
“The guilt of what she’d done was killing her, so she confessed to my dad and he forgave her. But he also told her that if she wanted to leave him for this other man, she could do that too.”
Charlotte could only stare in wide-eyed shock.
Julian lifted his head and looked at her and let out another mirthless laugh. “Yeah. That was pretty much my reaction too.”
“I…I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“I asked her why she decided to stay if she wasn’t happy, and after she gave all the usual answers—there was me, and she still loved my dad—but the craziest thing about it all was how she kept waiting for him to fight for her. She never left, so it wasn’t as if he had to beg her to come home. She wanted him to fight for her and let her know that she meant something to him.” He scoffed. “She’s still waiting.”
“And you heard that and thought…”
He rose and stretched, reaching for his jeans and sliding them on before facing her. “I thought if I just kept fighting for Dena, she’d change. Joke was on me though, right?”
Her heart broke for him all over again. Carefully, she stood and wrapped the blanket around herself as she stepped in close. “No, the joke’s not on you. I think what you did just shows the kind of person you are, and it makes me angry for you that Dena didn’t appreciate all that you sacrificed for her and the relationship. She didn’t deserve you.”
She saw him swallow hard. “My life was a freaking joke for those years, Charlotte. Everyone knew I was making a mistake, but I was trying to prove a point.” He shook his head. “And it wasn’t even a point I wanted to prove! I didn’t want my parents to be disappointed, and I didn’t want to lose, and in the end, both those things happened!”
“Your parents can’t possibly be disappointed in you, Julian.”
But he nodded and looked a bit arrogant as he did. “But they are. After the whole wedding fiasco, I took a few days and then called them to let them know I was all right, and I got lectured on making a scene. A scene! There was no real concern about my feelings or how devastated I was. It was all about how my actions made them look!”
“Okay, but you have to admit, from everything you’ve told me about the wedding, that had to be a bit of a shock for everyone. Maybe you could have given them a warning about what you were planning.”
“They would have talked me out of it. Or my mother would have. I was finally ready to take back control of my life, and maybe that wasn’t the best way to do it, but it’s done and I can’t change it!”
He stormed away from her and went to look out the windows toward the beach, while Charlotte took a moment to wrap her brain around what Julian had just confessed. It was no wonder he had such a strong will and ironclad control now—for far too long he’d felt like he was being told how to live his life, and now…now he’d taken it to the extreme.
She walked over and stood beside him. “I think you’re very brave,” she said quietly, and although she kept her gaze forward, she felt him staring at her. “You were in a bad situation and you needed to get out of it. Most people would have stayed in the cycle and resigned themselves to being miserable. There was never going to be a winner where you and Dena were concerned. I’m just sorry that not everyone saw it that way.”
Together they stood silently and watched the waves until Julian said, “Thank you.” His voice was gruff—almost raw.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.” And she meant it. It helped her to understand him so much more than she’d ever thought she would. He was still struggling with this and he probably would for a long time, but at least now she could understand.
“It doesn’t mean I’m weak,” he said, this time his voice so low she almost didn’t hear him.
“I know that.” And that just shattered her heart. For someone as strong and proud as Julian to think anyone would view him as weak, and to admit it, had to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
There were still dozens of questions she had for him, but not now. They’d talked enough.
Without a word, she reached for his hand and led him to the bedroom. Beside the bed she dropped the blanket she’d been clutching to her and let it pool at her feet. The heat in his gaze battled with gratitude that she hadn’t pushed him for more.
And as she wrapped her hand around his nape and pulled his lips to hers, Charlotte knew that she was the one who was thankful because she had earned his trust.
And she’d do everything in her power never to betray it.
Chapter 8
They didn’t make it to San Francisco.
The day before they were supposed to leave, Charlotte’s car died and she was too upset about repairs and having lost half a day of work to go. To say he was disappointed was an understatement, but Julian knew when to push and when to let her be. It would have been easy for him to step in and take care of the car repairs and have them be on their way, but he knew she wouldn’t want or appreciate that.
Luckily Charlotte was a little easier to figure out than most women he knew.
Monday morning while she was getting ready for work, Julian walked into the bedroom with her coffee. “You want me to drive you to work, or do you want to take my car?”
She was shimmying into a dress and he had to hide a smile as he watched her move. There was a small selection of her clothes here at his place and an equally small selection of his over at hers. When her car died on Friday, he’d brought her back here and they hadn’t left since. He’d tried to reason that they could as easily be in San Francisco as they were in his house, but he could tell she was too distracted to enjoy herself. There were a ton of reasons why it made sense for her to keep her own place, and it wasn’t like this house was his, either, but he was finding there had only been a handful of nights that they’d spent apart in weeks.
“If you don’t mind driving me in, that would be great,” Charlotte responded as she took the coffee from his hands. “Thank you.”
He watched in fascination as she got ready. It was the shortest routine he’d ever seen: Charlotte could shower, do her hair and makeup, and get dressed in thirty minutes.
That was a record in his book.
She took a sip of her coffee before securing her hair in a ponytail. Smiling at him, she said, “On a positive note, we have three new people starting today. Two are transferring from other human services offices, so they won’t require training.”
“And that means…?”
“It means my days are going back to normal. I’ll be done at five, and I have nothing scheduled at the shelter this week.” With a sassy grin she added, “That’s practically like a vacation for me and I plan on taking advantage of this s
chedule.”
The pure joy on her face and in her words was infectious, and Julian found himself smiling with her. “We should do something to celebrate tonight. Maybe go out for a nice dinner, a little dancing? What do you think?”
“Ooo, I like the sound of that. Yes, please!”
Leaning in, he kissed her. “Then leave it to me. I’ll make reservations, but I’ll make them late enough so you can do whatever you need to do to freshen up before we go.”
“And I greatly appreciate it,” she said and took another sip of her coffee. “I need to check with the mechanic today after lunch and see what the deal is with my car.”
“You know he’s thinking transmission. That’s not a small job.”
“I know,” she said with a small pout. “The car is getting old and I’m not the greatest about maintenance, but I was really hoping it would last me a little longer before anything major happened. I’d love to get something new, but I’m not loving the idea of a car payment right now.”
“Maybe it will be something a little less major. You never know.” He was hoping he sounded optimistic, but he’d driven her car enough to know she really was bad about maintenance and it had a lot of miles on it. It was a wonder the transmission was the only thing to go.
“Maybe,” she said with a sigh, finishing her coffee. “You ready?”
Nodding, he followed her out of the bedroom and out to the car. He didn’t mind driving her to work. He kind of enjoyed it. By the time she walked through the front doors of the office building, however, Julian’s mind was already working on what he was going to do that day.
Once he was back home, he looked around and realized that as much as he liked this house, it wasn’t his and he was ready to start looking for one of his own.
Milestone number one, he thought.
It was time, and while it would have been easy to call on Mick to help him start looking, this was something he wanted to do on his own. Although…he hadn’t heard from Mick again about the sale of his house, so no doubt he was going to have to talk to him about it anyway.
Not the worst thing in the world. They hadn’t spoken in more than a week and that was usually the longest they’d go—even while Julian had been on the road searching for himself, Mick had forced him to check in once a week just so he’d know Julian was alive.
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