by Morgan James
I fought the smile pulling at my lips. “You drop your dirty clothes down there, and they end up in a hamper in the basement by the washer and dryer.”
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening in amazement like a little kid’s. “Can I try it?”
“Be my guest.”
I stepped back and watched as she went into her room to gather clothes, then came back and dropped a large pile down the chute. “What now?”
This time, I did smile. “Follow me.”
I opened the basement door off the kitchen, then flipped on the light and started down, Jules on my heels. At the base of the stairs, I turned right and headed toward the washer and dryer. A hamper sat on the floor next to them, now full of Jules’s clothes. A huge smile lit her face, and my heart stuttered in my chest. It was the first time I’d seen her smile, really smile, since she’d arrived. For it to be over something so mundane blew my mind.
Her eyes darted toward the washer, then up to me. “I, um... would you mind if I use yours?”
“Not at all,” I replied. I turned to go, letting her do her thing, but her small voice stopped me halfway back to the stairs. “Eric?”
I couldn’t ever remember her calling me by my name before, and I closed my eyes briefly before turning back to face her.
“Could you, um, show me how this works?” Her voice was soft, her cheeks pink as if she was embarrassed to even have to ask. For the millionth time, I wondered who Jules really was and where she’d come from.
Masking my surprise, I approached and pointed to a knob. “You’ll need to decide what temperature water you’ll need, and how much.”
Her brows drew together. “Do they all go in together?”
I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling and undermining her confidence. “The tags on your clothes will tell you how to wash them. Some materials are more sensitive than others.”
I tried to relate it to her as best I could. “You know how some items can only be dry cleaned?” She nodded at my question, and I continued. “The rest of your clothes are like that, too. Some colors and materials do better in warmer water, some in colder. Let me take a look.”
I picked up a shirt off the top of the pile and flipped it inside out, inspecting the tag along the seam. “This one says wash in cold. Let’s start a pile for each.”
We set out separating the clothes, placing each in their respective piles until I came to a pair of lacy pink panties. Almost as soon as my fingers grazed the material, I dropped them again, and Jules’s face turned as pink as the fabric. She snatched them away, but not before I caught sight of the little black bows running in a straight line down the back, right where the crease of her ass would be. All I could envision was Jules in those tiny panties and nothing else.
She began to load the washer, and I turned once more to head upstairs, hoping the awkwardness would dissipate. I picked up a shirt that had missed its pile and carried it back to the washing machine. I reached around to drop it in just as she backed up. Her back hit my chest, bringing her body against mine, and we both froze.
For a long second, neither of us moved. I forced my fingers to release the fabric, dropping the shirt into the washer, then slowly withdrew my hand. Jules inhaled sharply as I brushed her arm in the process. Still, she didn’t move. Holding my breath, I gently rested my fingertips in the crook of her elbow.
The curves of her tiny body fit perfectly against the planes of mine, the top of her head ending just beneath my chin. My fingers itched to settle on her hips and pull her further into my embrace. I wanted to feel every inch of flesh sliding over my own.
“Sorry.” My breath stirred the wispy hair by her ear, and I felt the faint vibration deep in my bones as a delicate shudder wracked her body.
“It’s fine.” Low and breathy, her voice was barely a whisper—but I heard it. Not fear. Not embarrassment. Lust. She wanted to be touched; she needed it.
I congratulated myself on her reaction but hated myself for the same reason. I shouldn’t want to want her... but I did. Unable to break the connection just yet, I slid the pad of my thumb back and forth over her soft skin, reveling in the feel of her. Inhaling deeply, I gave her arm a gentle squeeze before reluctantly stepping away.
She was too young, too innocent and naïve. She was secretive and untrusting, and I didn’t know if she would ever open up to anyone. I wanted to be her confidant, yet at the same time, it would be easier to pretend there was nothing between us. I was already feeling more than protectiveness, and I couldn’t allow my attraction to her to dictate my actions. I’d learned firsthand what distrust could do to couples. Not that we were a couple—we weren’t. Neither of us could afford that.
Chapter 13
Giuliana
I paused in the act of hanging a bright blue zip-up sweatshirt. “Will the resort have a spa?”
Confused Bahamian blue eyes met mine. “A what?”
I slipped the hanger on the wire rack, then turned my attention to Mia. “A spa. Massages, facials, manicures, that kind of thing. Mr. Prescott never mentioned anything. Are you guys planning to put one in?”
A bright smile lifted her lips. “It sounds so funny to hear you call him Mr. Prescott, like he’s all professional.”
Embarrassed heat flared across my cheeks. “It just feels strange to call him Jack.”
It was too personal, too... friendly. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to be on such familiar terms with him.
Mia waved away my concern. “Everyone calls him Jack; he prefers it. Anyway, what were you saying?”
My gaze slid over her unpolished nails, and I bit my lip. “I don’t know. It was just an idea.”
She set down the shirt she held and propped one hand on her hip expectantly. “Tell me.”
Those blue eyes pierced mine, and I caved. “I was just thinking... A lot of resorts like this have restaurants, shops, spas.”
Mia nodded. “The restaurant is about another six months out. We’re interviewing chefs right now. But a spa...” She tapped her chin in thought. “I hadn’t even thought of it.”
I shrugged. “Wouldn’t it be nice for people to come down off the slopes after a long day and be able to get a massage? Or grab a new dress from one of the shops and have your nails done before dinner?”
Mia’s smile grew. “See? This is the problem with men running stuff.”
I gave a little laugh. “They rarely understand our needs.”
“Exactly.” She nodded. “Which is precisely why we need to tell them.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.
“Wait!” I cried out, trying to dig in my heels. “Where are we going?”
“To tell Jack we need a spa!”
I let out a little laugh as she dragged me out of the shop and down the corridor. Jack lifted his head as we entered his office, and Mia pointed at me. “Tell him.”
“Wh—” My eyes widened, and my gaze darted between Mia’s face and Jack’s. My heart raced, and my feet felt frozen to the floor under his dark stare. Every muscle went completely rigid as I clammed up, unable to speak.
Mia swooped in and saved me from the awkwardness of the moment. She slapped one hand on his desk. “We need a spa.”
Those dark brown eyes turned to Mia, and his eyebrows lifted in a mixture of confusion and surprise. “What?”
“A spa. You know.” She held up a hand in my direction and wiggled her fingers. “Massages. Manicures. That sort of thing.”
Jack was shaking his head before she even finished. “More additions right now will throw us off schedule.”
“But—”
“And that’s without even discussing the licenses for a place like that.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “I don’t think we can swing it.”
Mia crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I want a spa.”
One nearly black eyebrow arched as he stared at her. “We don’t even know if it would be profitable. These are things that need to be taken into consider
ation before we just jump into something.”
“They’re always profitable. Aren’t they?” Mia directed the question at me, and my mouth dropped open.
“Um...”
“Of course they are.” She waved a hand as if it didn’t matter. “Jules and I will check into all of the regulations and licenses we would need, and we can build a proposal from there.”
Jack practically growled. “You can’t just make decisions because you own half the company, you know.”
“Please.” Mia rolled her eyes. “It’s a great idea and you know it.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t, but—”
She propped her hands on her hips and glared at her fiancé. “You’re just being stubborn.”
My stomach clenched as I watched his lips press into a firm line. Please stop, I mentally begged Mia. Don’t do it.
“We’ll run the numbers, but I’m not promising anything,” he warned.
“Fine.” Mia threw her arms up and flounced away. “But you know I’m right.” She let out a small yelp as Mr. Prescott’s hand whipped out and caught her on the bottom. My heart thudded to a stop in my chest, my breath suspending itself in my lungs as I took a step toward her. Oh, God. I wouldn’t watch another woman suffer at the hands of a man. I moved instinctively, my only thought to save her from the same fate I’d suffered for the past few years.
I was reaching for her, ready to pull her out of harm’s way as she whirled on Jack. Surprise jerked me to a stop when she let out a little laugh and threw herself at him. Mr. Prescott met my gaze as he wrapped one arm around his soon-to-be-wife’s waist and pulled her close. I halted my hands midreach, then pressed them flat against my stomach in an effort to contain the mixture of unease and confusion swirling within.
My teeth sank into my lower lip as I tried to reconcile the soft slap in my mind. Mia trusted Jack never to hurt her, but my uncle hadn’t always seemed abusive, either. I’d only experienced suffering instead of pleasure at my uncle’s hands—but I was now seeing a different side of things. Touch wasn’t always hard and punishing. Mia hadn’t seemed to mind—just the opposite, in fact. I didn’t know how I felt about that. My mind screamed one thing while my heart said another.
Jack’s assessing eyes missed nothing as they bored into mine for another long moment before turning back to Mia. He cupped her face in one hand and stared down at her. Something indefinable passed between them, making me feel like an interloper. The connection between these two was like nothing I’d ever seen. Finally, he dropped a kiss on her upturned mouth. “On second thought, I think it’s a great idea.”
“Really?” Mia fairly squealed as she threw her arms around his neck.
He nodded. “I still want to run the numbers, but I think it’ll make a great addition.” His dark gaze slid toward me. “I think if anyone could make a go of it, it would be you two.”
His compliment warmed me, and I could feel a blush stain my cheeks as I dropped my head and stared at my toes.
“Put together a proposal, and we’ll have Carter take a look at it.” He continued. “Briarleigh definitely needs a feminine touch. I’m sure I can count on you two to make that happen, right?”
I lifted my gaze to find him staring right at me. I knew what he was asking. Did I plan to stay long enough to help and see this through? I couldn’t go anywhere else; not really. I had no family to turn to, and, though Mr. Prescott paid me each day, I owed Eric for letting me stay with him. It would be a long time before I was ready to move on. Truth be told, I didn’t want to leave. I liked it here. Though I didn’t get out much, I liked the small town of Pine Ridge. It was quaint and quiet, and everyone knew everyone. That might not be so important to some people, but to me it meant the world. If a stranger showed up, everyone would know it by lunchtime at Rosie’s. I was safe here. I liked my job, and I liked the Prescotts. And then there was Eric. I wanted to stay.
Mr. Prescott pinned me with his dark stare, and his brows lifted a tiny bit in silent question.
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The lines of his face softened the slightest bit. “You can call me Jack.” He offered a tiny smile, the first one I’d seen. “Mr. Prescott makes me feel old.”
A grin pulled at my lips, and for the first time, I began to relax. This was where I belonged. Maybe one day I would move on, but I was safe here. Mia and Jack were, if not friends, exactly, close acquaintances. This was where I wanted to be.
Jack kissed Mia’s forehead and gently pushed her away. “Now get out of here so I can get some work done. You’re a damn distraction.”
A huge smile split Mia’s face as she pressed her hands together in a praying motion. “You’ll love what we come up with, I promise.”
“I’m sure.” He threw a sly wink at his fiancée, one I’d have missed if I wasn’t paying close attention. There was so much emotion conveyed in that tiny gesture.
Mia bounced toward me. “I have to stop by my office real quick to grab my laptop. Meet you back in the shop?”
“Sure.”
Bemused smile in place, I strode back down the hallway toward the pro shop. I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what had just happened. Jack and Mia’s relationship was strange to me. Even my parents hadn’t been overly affectionate. My mother seemed to tolerate my father more than anything, and I knew he’d had several affairs during the course of their marriage. I knew what he’d done was wrong, but he was my daddy—I loved him regardless.
I think that was part of the reason my mother had so willingly stepped away when daddy died. She’d given me over to Uncle Massimo’s care and could finally do what she wanted with her life. She no longer had to pretend to like a man she wasn’t in love with. Sometimes I wondered if she knew how awful Uncle Massimo really was. I’d like to think that she didn’t, but who knew? Wouldn’t she have fought to keep me instead of allowing him to sweep me right out of our house and under his wing?
The last time I’d seen her was when I’d selected my wedding gown. Though saying that I had any choice in the matter was an overstatement. Uncle Massimo had herded me away, never leaving the two of us alone.
“Hey.”
I stumbled, caught off guard, and my head snapped toward Sam where he stood several feet away. My heart jackhammered in my chest, and I fought for control. “Oh, hey.”
“You liking it around here so far?”
“Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Good.” He awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. “So, um... did you get the flower I left for you?”
My eyes widened. “That was you?”
“Well... yeah.”
He said it like he was surprised I even had to ask, and I quickly covered my blunder. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure it was for me.”
His stance relaxed, and his charming grin came out once more. “Of course. Actually...” His gaze darted away for a second before returning to me. “I was wondering if you might like to go out sometime.”
I opened my mouth, then snapped it closed again, unsure exactly of what to say. Sam was nice enough, but I hated to hurt his feelings by turning him down. I bit my lip and shifted on my feet as the silence stretched between us. “I—I can’t,” I finally managed to stammer out.
His fell in disappointment. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry,” I rushed to say. “I just... I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t explain why things would never work between us. Thankfully, he offered a tight smile. “No problem. I guess I’ll see ya around?”
“Sure.” I nodded, and guilt tugged at my heart as he turned away.
Chapter 14
Eric
Nodding to the few patrons still filling the booths, I strode into the diner and up to the waist-high bar in front of the kitchen. Cynthia exited the double swinging doors and offered me a pretty smile. “Food’s almost ready. Let me drop this off and I’ll grab it for you.”
“Take your time.” I propped one hip on a barstool and pulled my phone from my ba
ck pocket to check my emails.
“How’s your houseguest?”
I bit back a groan and smiled across the bar at Rosie. “Just fine, ma’am.”
I should have known she’d hear about Jules staying with me sooner or later. I’d stopped in over the past few days to pick up food, always ordering two meals—one for me and one for Jules. Trying to put off the inevitable, I made sure to talk with a different waitress each day. I was probably lucky it had taken her this long to nail my ass down. If there was gossip to be found, Rosie was sure to dig it up.
Her gaze jumped toward Cynthia as she passed us once more, then it returned to me. “She’s a good girl, that one. You helped her a lot.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “I just did my job.”
Rosie regarded me, one eyebrow lifting toward her hairline. “You help an awful lot of people, Sheriff. But only one’s livin’ with ya.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Saying anything else would be suicide. I refused to confirm or deny her suspicions, but I knew rumors would soon spread like wildfire. I wondered if any were making their way up to Jules at Briarleigh yet. What would she think of it? Would she be appalled... or flattered?
I touched the brim of my hat just as Cynthia brought me the bag of food and set it on the counter in front of me.
Rosie offered a sly smile. “See you tomorrow, Sheriff.”
I rolled my eyes, hating that she was right. I’d seen Jules’s meager supply of college-like food in the cabinets. It magically appeared one day, but I couldn’t get it off my mind. I didn’t know how she could bear to eat that stuff. It wasn’t nutritional in the least, and she was still too fucking skinny. The day after I’d seen the cheap noodles and canned foods in my cupboard, I started ordering daily specials from Rosie’s Diner.
Most days, I would order lunch and take it back to the station, so I wouldn’t show up at home with two boxes of food. I typically told Jules that Rosie had sent too much, or that someone at the station didn’t want it. The first night, she’d given me a strange look but didn’t argue. Ever since, she had just kind of accepted it. She would take the food and head back to the bedroom, then eat in silence by herself. I hated that she felt like she had to do it, but it was probably for the best. We danced around each other, trying to stay out of the other’s space as much as possible.