Chasing Julia (Rhode Island Romance #2)

by Sophia Renny

  Chasing Julia

  Sophia Renny

  Copyright © 2015 Sophia Renny

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author via www.sophiarenny.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover Art Credit: ©iStock.com

  Cover design: © 2015 Sophia Renny

  Chasing Julia/ Sophia Renny -- 1st ed.

  DEDICATION

  For all my Rhode Island friends.

  You are true blue.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Something was licking her foot.

  Someone was licking her foot?

  It was alive, whatever it was. But it didn’t feel like a human tongue. It was a very small tongue. Very warm. Very sandpapery. Very into whatever was on the sole of her foot. That tongue was lapping at her skin at a frenzied pace, like her foot was a double scoop of Chunky Monkey that needed to be devoured before it melted under a blazing summer sun.

  Maybe this was a dream.

  Julia cracked one eye open. The eye that wasn’t scrunched against her pillow. She winced as a ray of sunlight streaming in from the bedroom window struck her eyeball like a fiery hot dagger. She squeezed her eye shut. Tiny, sharp points of light pricked through her eyelid. They pulsed with the beat of her heart.

  “Oh, God.”

  Her mouth was so dry that the words came out as a raspy whisper.

  Her head throbbed. Her eyes throbbed. Even her hair seemed to be throbbing.

  What in the world had she done?

  She was lying on her stomach. The bed sheet beneath her scratched her skin. Something hard pressed uncomfortably into her rib cage, just below her breasts. She snaked one hand under her stomach and felt around. It wasn’t the bed sheet that was causing discomfort.

  What the hell was she wearing?

  Was that a bustier?

  She slid her hand lower.

  She was still wearing panties. Satin, by the feel of them and not very substantial. Okay, that was definitely a thong. Her butt cheeks were bare.

  Why was she wearing a thong? She hadn’t worn those since she’d turned thirty; hipsters were more her style.

  And what the hell was licking her foot?

  Her feet were uncovered; one foot was hanging over the side of the bed. She jerked that foot inward and kicked the other foot out, connecting with what felt like a ball of fur.

  “Yip!”

  Four paws pounced on her lower back, nails digging through the bedspread.

  “What the—”

  “Looks like Max wants to play.”

  The weight of whatever creature that had tackled her was lifted away.

  Julia’s eyes flew open.

  That was a male voice. A very recognizable male voice. Warm and deep with a little bit of gravel. Bourbon on the rocks. It poured over her skin and flowed through her veins, igniting fires deep in her belly.

  But she’d never heard that voice right next to her in bed before.

  This wasn’t her bed.

  Her eyes tracked anxiously around the room.

  This was a hotel room.

  The window curtains were open. In the distance she glimpsed what appeared to be the Eiffel Tower.

  How did she get to Paris?

  Her heart thundered in her ears as fuzzy memories infiltrated her alcohol-soaked brain.

  This wasn’t Paris.

  This was Las Vegas.

  Oh, oh, God. What had she done?

  Slowly, painfully, she flipped over to her side to face the man lying on his side inches away from her.

  Her wide eyes landed on his naked torso, followed the dark hairs of his happy trail down to where it disappeared beneath the bedcovers. He was lean, sleek and muscular; his olive-toned skin had a healthy glow. He was using one arm to prop up his head; the other held a wriggling, motley-furred, grinning little dog tucked against his chest.

  She slowly lifted her eyes to his face.

  His teeth flashed white; his cheeks dimpled. His toffee-colored eyes sparkled.

  “Good afternoon, wife,” he said. “Sleep well?”

  Chapter One

  Six weeks earlier

  “This is a mistake. You’re just going to torture yourself watching this.”

  Julia gave her best friend, Hannah, a belligerent look. “I have to watch it. It’ll eat me up inside if I don’t. I need to see how it was when they first met. This will help with closure.”

  “Okay. But don’t tell me later that I didn’t warn you. Do you want vodka now? Or later?”

  “Both.”

  “Chunky Monkey now? Or later?”

  “Now.”

  “As your best friend I confess I do feel guilty for aiding and abetting your ten pound weight gain. Promise me you’ll start a diet with me tomorrow? I can’t find anything in my closet that fits right anymore. I’ve been wearing yoga pants for the last week. Sam is starting to get a little concerned.”

  Julia cracked a smile. “Promise.” She gave Hannah a hug that she’d intended to be quick, but it ended up lasting much longer. She shared several deep, restorative breaths with her friend before pulling away. “In case I haven’t said it enough already, thanks for being there for me, Han. Love you.”

  Hannah beamed her signature, quirky smile. “Love you back, babe. Just hope you never have to return the favor.”

  “Not going to happen. Sam is true blue.”

  Hannah retrieved two empty bowls from Julia’s kitchen cupboard. “It’s good to hear you mention his name. It’s been hard for me to talk about my fiancé much considering…”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Hannah said as she doled out generous scoops of ice cream in each bowl. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. It’s Joe who should be sorry.”

  Julia leaned against the kitchen counter. She sighed heavily. “He was sorry, Han. He said over and over how sorry he was. He was honest and sincere, just like he’s always been. He said he had never wanted to hurt me.” Her voice cracked a little.

  “But he did. So, when do you think you’ll be able to talk to him again?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s been four months. When was the last time he called?”

  “Just yesterday, actually. I forgot to tell you.”

  “What did he say this time?”

  “He just asked me to call him. That’s all.”

  “Maybe he’s worried about you watching the show tonight.”

  “Maybe.”

  Hannah slid the bowls of ice
cream across the counter toward Julia. “Go get cozy. I’ll grab the shot glasses.”

  Julia went into the living room and sat down on the brown leather sofa facing a flat screen television affixed to the opposite wall. She set the bowls on the knotty pine coffee table.

  Over the last four months, she’d spent more time in this room than any other. It was still difficult being in the bedroom, even though she’d purchased a new mattress and changed the décor. Too many memories still lingered in that space. More often than not, she ended up sleeping on the couch. It was wide, firm and comfortable.

  It was a gorgeous, warm early-September evening, but she still drew a fleece-lined throw across her lap. It had become a kind of security blanket.

  Hannah entered the room and set a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses on the coffee table. She plopped down on the couch close to Julia, grabbed a corner of the throw and tugged it across her legs. She gave Julia a shoulder bump. “You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Hannah reached for the remote and turned the television on.

  It was already set on the HOME channel. That had always been Julia’s favorite channel, even before Tony and Joe’s show had come to be.

  She ate some ice cream, one eye on the commercials leading up to the show.

  Rossetti & Rossetti—bold, burgundy letters on a cloudy gray background—appeared on the screen. A male announcer’s voice filled Julia’s living room.

  “Today on Rossetti and Rossetti, the brothers will journey to the village of Conimicut, Rhode Island where a young woman has recently inherited a cottage in need of a major overhaul.”

  Exterior shots of a two-story 1920s era wood and brick bungalow appeared on the screen. As the camera panned the surroundings and then showed images of Conimicut Point Park and Narragansett Bay, the announcer continued: “Tony and Joe are about to meet Willa for the first time to walk through her home. Willa was the lucky winner of a total home makeover sponsored by the HOME network and the Rhode Island Home Show.”

  A spoonful of ice cream lodged in Julia’s throat as she got her first glimpse of her ex-fiancé since the awful, horrible day back in May when he’d broken their engagement after confessing to her that he’d fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with Willa Cochrane.

  She swallowed down the ice cream and the huge lump of pain that had swelled up from her heart as the front door opened, framing a petite, brown-haired and beautiful young woman with wide blue eyes. Then the view switched to a shot from behind the woman’s back, zooming in on a grinning Tony and an unsmiling Joe.

  “Hello there,” Tony said, with his usual charm and enthusiasm. “You must be Willa. I’m Tony Rossetti and this is my brother, Joe. It’s great to meet you. Congratulations on winning the contest!”

  Willa greeted them and asked them to come inside. Julia noticed that she didn’t shake hands with either of the brothers. She appeared to be nervous, avoiding Joe’s eyes as she led the men into her living room and shared the history of the house with them.

  “She talks funny,” Hannah commented, sounding snide.

  “Don’t be mean. Tony shared some of her background with me. She was a child prodigy. She has the I.Q. of a genius.”

  “An intellectual? One of those head in the clouds types, I bet.”

  “Shh. I can’t hear what Joe’s saying.”

  Willa had led the men into her dining room. Joe shoved aside the heavy velvet curtains, releasing a visible cloud of dust. Tony made a comment about the room looking like it hadn’t been used that often.

  “Do you like to entertain?” Joe asked Willa.

  Julia was so distracted by the unusually gruff tone of his voice that she didn’t hear Willa’s reply.

  “What do you do for a living?” Joe asked Willa next.

  Reasonable questions from a contractor preparing to put together the ideal remodel plan for a homeowner. But Julia sensed the undercurrent beneath Joe’s questions; his curiosity was more than professional.

  He’d confessed to Julia that he’d felt drawn towards Willa the moment she’d opened that front door.

  Julia wished now that he hadn’t shared so many intimate details with her. But that’s the way he’d always been with her since they were children: open, direct, honest. Except for those murky weeks prior to the break-up when he’d become increasingly distant, and she’d been too consumed with her wedding plans to realize something was very, very wrong.

  Now everyone was in the master bedroom.

  “Is this where you sleep?” Joe asked Willa, his voice low and intense.

  “Jesus,” Hannah murmured. “Can I please change the channel, Jules? This is just too cruel.”

  “No.”

  Now they were walking upstairs. Tony put his hand on Willa’s lower back and made a teasing comment about how steep the stairs were. Julia was startled by a sharp bite of resentment. Tony had always been a flirt. This wasn’t anything new. Why did it bother her?

  Joe was inspecting the furniture. Then he reached up to touch the low ceiling. The camera shot was a wide angle showing both him and Willa in the same frame. Willa had her eyes glued to his chest. Julia couldn’t blame her. Joe looked so masculine and strong, his tall, sleekly muscular build shown to its best advantage as he stretched his arm to the ceiling.

  “This can be opened up to the beams,” he said. “We could put a couple of skylights up here. We could even turn this space into one large master bedroom. Do you have children, Willa?”

  “No… No, I’m not married.”

  “Let me ask you this, then. Do you see yourself living here for a long time? Raising a family here, maybe? Or will this be a summer home?”

  “Yes,” Willa answered softly. “I’d like to raise a family here. It’s a good neighborhood.”

  The camera zoomed in for a close-up of Joe’s face. His eyes seemed to glow, his gaze intent on Willa.

  “Gah!” Hannah shrieked. “What the hell are we watching here? The Bachelor?” Her outburst drowned out the voiceover.

  The show cut to commercials.

  “Sure you want to keep watching?” Hannah asked, her worried eyes scrutinizing Julia’s pale face.

  Julia grimaced. “Yes. But I need a shot.”

  Hannah set her empty bowl on the coffee table and poured out a shot of vodka for each of them. She handed Julia a glass and tapped hers against it. “How about we do a shot for every time they zoom in on Joe’s face?”

  Julia tossed her head back and downed the shot in one gulp. Hot liquid poured down her throat and burned her lungs. She held out the empty glass for a refill. “Only if you’re planning to crash here tonight. No way am I letting you drive home drunk.”

  “Fine with me,” Hannah agreed as she refilled both their glasses. “I don’t have anything on the agenda for tomorrow anyway. Thank God tomorrow’s Friday, right?”

  Hannah ran a graphic design business from her home. Julia had first met her over ten years ago when Julia had been outsourcing some print materials for an event. Hannah was the same age; they’d hit it off immediately. Hannah’s bubbly personality brought out Julia’s inner playful side—the impish, sometimes devilish personality that she rarely revealed to her parents, or to anyone else, now that she thought about it. Her parents had raised her to be the perfect lady; she’d always done her very best to live up to their high expectations.

  She was pretty sure they were watching this episode right now, too, though they hadn’t mentioned the Rossetti brothers’ show once in her presence since May. Her mother had taken Julia’s cue and avoided bringing Joe’s name into their conversations. Diane Kelly had been just as devastated as Julia when Joe had broken the engagement—probably even more so. She had been convinced since Julia was a little girl that her daughter would marry Joe someday.

  Strangely, her mother was the first person Julia had thought of when Joe had broken things off. Diane had intertwined her expectations and dreams so closely with her daughter’s that Julia had only rec
ently begun to wonder if she had been living her mother’s dream all this time and not her own.

  “And we’re back,” Hannah said in an aside as the Rossetti & Rossetti logo flashed on the screen again.

  Everyone was in Willa’s kitchen now. Tony was raving about the 1950s era appliances. Joe was running his hands along a built-in wall unit. They were talking about how much counter space Willa wanted in her kitchen. Joe said they’d have to take the wall unit out to have enough space for the counters. He opened one of the drawers.

  Suddenly, Willa came running towards him and shouted, “No!” She reached inside the drawer and pulled something out. It looked like a child’s drawing.

  Julia leaned forward, her heart thumping painfully as she watched her ex-fiancé brush his fingers down Willa’s arm and then clasp her wrist. He brought both of their hands upwards so he could get a closer look at the picture. The camera zoomed in on both him and Willa as she explained that she’d drawn the picture when she was seven years old.

  And there it was.

  Julia could practically hear the click as their eyes met. Something softened in both of their expressions. It was like they were the only two people in that room.

  “Holy shit,” Hannah breathed.

  Julia was finding it extremely difficult to breathe at all.

  And then Tony was moving into the shot, bursting that intimate bubble, forcing Willa and Joe’s attention back to the task at hand. Tony’s voice was calm, his manner confident. He took charge as he guided Willa outside to talk about landscaping and other design elements.

  Joe didn’t speak with Willa again for the remainder of that segment. There was a brief interview of him talking about his overall first impressions of Willa’s house. He concluded by saying, “That kitchen wall unit is a well-made piece of furniture that clearly holds some special memories for Willa. I’m going to do everything I can to keep it intact in that room. But, if she wants the counter space, it’ll have to come out.” He shook his head, looking troubled. “I don’t want her to be unhappy.” And then he seemed to realize what he’d revealed with that comment. His expression went flat. “It’ll be a tough choice for her, but sometimes you have to sacrifice sentimentality for the sake of practical design.”