by Nalini Singh
Stunned by his brother’s casual and devastatingly accurate analysis, Jake didn’t move as Danny led the girls to the playground. Instead, he looked at the fear inside him… and he saw Calypso looking back. The first girl he’d ever loved, his heart all puppyish and excited and adoring. Her coffin had been so light against his shoulder as he led the pallbearers to her burial plot.
Her death had nearly broken him.
And now he was starting to fall in love again.
Juliet stared at the two bunches of roses on either side of her desk. The second had arrived in a crystal vase. Just as well, because she only had the one retro milk-bottle style vase that she kept in a drawer for the days when she felt like picking up a bunch of cheerful blooms from the local shop.
Iris had pushed her cat’s-eye spectacles down her nose when she saw the roses. “Since you haven’t thrown them in the trash,” she’d asked, tone arch, “I assume they’re not from Reid?”
“No,” she’d muttered. “They’re from my personal pain in the rear.”
“I do like his style.”
As Juliet stood staring at the roses, she realized so did she—and it was freaking her out. Jake was flirting with her, but to what end? No way could this ever work between them.
Yet… he’d stood by her through Reid’s machinations.
Not only that, he’d made her smile when all she’d wanted to do was rage at the world. Each time she caught the scent of the roses, her lips curved. As for his cards, she had them tucked into a zippered pocket of her bag.
Serious Jacob Esera didn’t seem the type to write silly poetry. But he had.
Teeth biting down on her lower lip, she took out her phone: Sorry to interrupt the honeymoon, she typed to Charlie, but I have a question.
Her phone pinged ten minutes later while she was finishing up the last emails for the day. Piña coladas and sunshine—it’s a hard, hard life.
You forgot the sex, Juliet messaged back with a grin.
I’m currently watching my gorgeous husband walk around our beachfront cabin in nothing but a pair of old rugby shorts. Trust me, I have a certain physical activity permanently on the brain.
Chuckling because Charlie was probably blushing as she typed that, Juliet went to respond when Charlie said, What’s the question?
Juliet made herself push through her hesitation. Hypothetically speaking, if Jake sent a woman roses two days in a row, one with a poem attached, would that mean anything?
Our Jake?!!!
Yes, your Jake.
Can I consult Gabriel? You’ll be anonymous, promise.
Juliet decided she might as well get the info straight from the top. Yes, okay.
The next few minutes inched by.
Gabe says that either his brother has been possessed by aliens, or this woman must be special. Jake doesn’t do courtship or flirting.
Juliet stared at the roses, thought about the messages he’d sent her, the silly poem, and her breath, it stuck in her chest. To have a man like Jake, devoted and steady and passionate, in her corner? It would be a dream.
Of course, even if she ignored the whole media drama, the dream could quickly turn into a nightmare. She and Jake weren’t friends, and after her childhood, after Reid, Juliet needed to be friends with her lover, needed to be able to lower her shields with him. Needed to be able to cry and break and curl into him.
Right now all Jake had seen was her prickly outer shell.
What if the softness inside repelled him?
She was still thinking about that the next morning when there was a knock on the door. It sounded like the impatient knock of a courier, but she looked through the peephole to make certain. Seeing the familiar cranky face of her local courier driver, she opened up to sign and receive the package.
Carrying it to her kitchen counter afterward, she saw it had been overnighted from a local address. She opened it up with a frown to glimpse the jacket for the hardcover book Humans of New York by the photographer Brandon Stanton. Hands trembling, she opened the book. It took her a second to see that there was a pink sticky note poking out of a particular page.
Turning to that page, she saw it was a photograph of a couple in Times Square. They were re-creating that famous image of the sailor kissing a woman bent over his arm. On the sticky note were the words: I’ll bring the sailor suit if you bring the dress and the heels. – Jake
Juliet dropped the book on the counter, only to pick it up an instant later to stare at Jake’s scrawly writing. It was as terrible as it had been back in school. Her fingers traced the jagged lines. That was when she noticed the edges of the book bore a few small marks, and when she turned the pages, she saw the imprint of two tiny fingers on a photograph featuring a group of children—possibly in ink, maybe in juice.
This was Jake’s copy of the book.
Jake, who didn’t flirt, who didn’t do courtship.
Heart thunder, Juliet decided to pack a dress and heels.
23
A Deadline (Also, Phenomenal, Circuit-Blowing Sex May Come Up)
Two days after Danny’s weirdly wise bit of insight, Jake thanked his brother for dropping him and Esme off at the airport.
“I want a souvenir key chain in return,” Danny said, squeezing Esme into a hug. “Boo,” he said when he released her, “make sure he gets me the kind with a big fluffy apple. I don’t want no tiny-ass doll apple. I want the serious shebang.” He held out a hand, palm out.
Esme slapped it. “I gonna make sure, Uncle Danny.”
After exchanging a complicated leftover-from-teenagehood handclasp with Danny, Jake took his daughter’s hand to walk to the departure area. Esme was excited both because they were going away and because she’d been given special permission to be off school, though she had to finish a bunch of homework during the trip.
“Daddy, are we going in a big plane?”
“One of the biggest.”
Having had a message from Juliet this morning—a very prim and professional message that made no mention of the book he’d sent her—he looked for her after they cleared security and reached the executive lounge. It was his daughter who spotted her. Tugging at his hand, she pointed excitedly toward the coffee bar.
Juliet was ordering a drink using the tablet mounted beside the barista’s workbench, and though she was dressed in a relaxed pair of black pants that looked soft to the touch and a simple gray sweatshirt, his body stirred as if she were wearing her sexy bridesmaid’s dress—or nothing at all.
Yeah, he liked her best in nothing at all, but he could grow to like those pants.
His hand itched. He knew what the swell of her hip felt like under his palm, knew the smell at the curve of her neck, knew how tight and soft her body was when he thrust into her and how sweetly she gave of herself in bed. Going down on her had been ridiculously fun for him; she’d gasped with such shocked surprise when he’d licked her into an orgasm.
I mean, things like that gave a man ideas. Mostly of doing it again. Even better.
“Jules!” His daughter bounced up and down next to Juliet. “Surprise!” She threw out her hands like a circus magician.
Beaming, Juliet knelt down to enfold her in a hug. “Hello, Boo.” She pressed a kiss to his daughter’s cheek. “Do you want a hot chocolate?”
Esme glanced over her shoulder at Jake, her eyes in full charm mode.
He grinned. “Since we’re going on semi-vacation, knock yourself out.” A little indulgence wouldn’t hurt her.
Juliet winced as she rose to her feet. “Sorry,” she murmured under her breath. “I should’ve asked you first.”
“It’s not a problem, Jules.” He wasn’t going to get bent out of shape because she’d been nice to his daughter; he liked that Jules was so naturally kind to his baby girl. “Can you order me a long black?” he added while fighting the urge to stroke his hand over her extremely fine ass—though if Danny ever mentioned said ass again, he’d deck his brother.
In all likelihood, Danny had
done it on purpose. Pressing buttons was Jake’s younger brother’s specialty, especially when the button push led to revelations. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if Danny switched from sports psychology to law. Though he supposed psychologists were nosy as hell when it came down to it, and that suited his brother to the ground too.
What he didn’t fight was his urge to ruffle Juliet. It probably wasn’t good for his health, but Jake had decided on this risk—and once he decided, he didn’t hold back. It was how he’d gone from not playing for a year to making a representative team in eight months. Fear be damned.
“You smell nice, Jules.” He took a long breath after speaking those words under his breath. “I can almost taste you on my tongue.”
A flush on her cheekbones, she focused on inputting their orders. “Oh, do you know how to use that tongue?” she asked, sweet as pie. “I thought I felt a vague brush down there the other night.”
He grinned. “Guess I need to try harder. Lick and suck harder.”
As she inhaled quickly, he grabbed a couple of bottles of water and located his offspring. It was ridiculously fun messing with Jules, but he had to tone it down or his cock was going to give the entire lounge a show. Esme proved to be peering interestedly at the jar of marshmallows on the counter, far above her reach.
“Later,” he told her. “Let’s go find seats.”
“I have some already,” Juliet said, then led them to a grouping of four with a small coffee table in the center.
Esme rolled her child-sized blue-princess carry-on to stand next to Juliet’s sleek black one. “See, Jules?” she said proudly. “I got one too.”
Juliet nodded and, with every appearance of interest asked Esme about the princess whose face was emblazoned on the front, a face that was now haunting Jake in his dreams, cackling with glee at all the money he’d thrown her way. After giving Juliet the history of the princess, his daughter took the opportunity to regale her with stories of all the places she’d taken her carry-on.
Juliet’s airline app pinged midway to tell her their drinks were ready. Motioning at her to stay seated, Jake went to the counter to pick them up. He returned to find two dark-haired heads drawn together in deep discussion.
A deep, important thing twisted in his heart.
Something that had nothing to do with his tongue or his cock and everything to do with the reason for the fear that continued to dog him: Juliet mattered.
Putting down the drinks, he volunteered to hold the fort while the two of them went off to look at the available food. He needed the breathing space, needed to find his feet again.
Of course, Juliet swept them out from under him again the instant she returned from the catering area. “We got a plate for you too,” she said. “Heavy on the nuts and cheeses. Esme said those were your favorites.”
Juliet’s phone buzzed even as she spoke the last word, and she excused herself to go answer it.
“I like Jules,” his daughter announced following her departure. “She’s nice. Real nice, not pretend nice.”
Sometimes Jake thought his daughter was sixty years old rather than six. “What do you know about pretend nice?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
She shrugged. “I just know.” Then she stuffed half a slider in her mouth, as if he hadn’t fed her for days before bringing her to the airport.
Shoulders shaking, he ate a couple of nuts and drank his coffee while keeping an eye on his baby girl to make sure she didn’t choke on her spoils. And he waited for Juliet. He felt like a damn kid eager to catch a glimpse of the girl on whom he had a crush, his heart thudding at the idea of spending five days with her.
In a massive city where no one would care if a man named Jacob kissed a woman named Juliet.
“That was the US side’s head of marketing,” Juliet said upon returning to her seat. “He heard about the munchkin, saw a photo of you holding her after that championship game with her wearing your medal.”
Jake stiffened. “Jules—”
She rolled her eyes. “Jeez, let me finish.”
“Yeah, Daddy. You say it’s rude to inter-wupt.”
Properly schooled, Jake rubbed his forehead. “It is. Sorry, Jules.” He could see Juliet’s eyes dancing as he apologized through gritted teeth. It took all his self-control not to lunge across the space between them and kiss her amusement right into his own blood. “Carry on.”
“I set them straight. No pictures of Esme without permission. I assured them you’d sue them into the ground if they breached that rule.”
“I know Sue!” his daughter announced, caramel sticking to the sides of her mouth because she was now halfway through a chocolate caramel slice.
Picking up a paper towel, he wet it with some water, then wiped it over her mouth. She sat patiently through it before returning to her treat. He looked up to find Juliet’s eyes had gone soft, a little sad.
“Remember how much Calypso could eat?” Quiet words that wouldn’t reach Esme. “I never could figure out where it went.”
“How about that time she ate a whole pizza? At the game.”
“Oh my God, I’d almost forgotten.”
“I thought she was joking when she took a whole pizza and refused to share.” Jake’s cheeks creased. “By the time she got to the final piece, I think we were all watching her more than the game.”
“The way she held up that box like a trophy at the end. Crying, ‘I’m the champion!’”
They both grinned.
“Daddy,” Esme said, “can I go sit in that?” She was pointing at a giant swing chair at one end of the lounge.
Jake nodded because the chair was both solidly installed and in his line of sight.
“You’re good at letting her be independent while keeping her safe,” Juliet said after Esme had run off.
“I’d be an overprotective monster if it weren’t for Mum and Dad getting me help,” he admitted, the words flowing in a way they hadn’t for a long time—not even with his family. “After Calypso died, I wouldn’t let Esme out of my sight for a second, even when she was being cared for by my own mother.
“It wasn’t just Esme either—I’d check on Danny during the night to make sure he was breathing, call Sailor and Gabe multiple times a day, make my parents check in if they went out.” He shook his head. “Poor Ísa would actually put the phone down next to Emmaline so I could hear her baby chatter and be reassured she was healthy and happy.”
“I can’t say I blame you.” Juliet looked down at her drink. “When you’re a teenager, you don’t expect death to hit like that, out of nowhere.”
“Yeah.” His entire world had crumbled in the space of twenty-four-hours as the meningitis ravaged Calypso; she’d been playfully tickling a smiling Esme as she changed her diaper one day, fighting for her life the next.
“Do you miss her?” Dark eyes that held a weight of memory… and a question that was a gray barrier between them. “Callie?”
He took his time thinking about that, his mind filled with a thousand faded snapshots. “I miss that our daughter will never know her. I try to keep her memory alive, but to Esme, Calypso’s an image in a photograph, a face and voice on a screen.”
He smiled at his daughter as she waved at him after managing to clamber into the seat of her swing, a tiny and pleased empress on a huge throne. “I miss the way she’d make quirky jokes it always took me a while to get. I miss knowing who she would’ve become as she grew. But I had to get past her death to be a good dad, a good man.”
Nudging his head in Esme’s direction, he said, “She needed me to get my shit together, be there for her, and that was the start, but we were also so young, Jules. In puppy love that’s frozen in time.” Sweet and soft and gentle. “I’ll never forget her, and I’ll keep her in my heart always because she—and who we were together—deserve that, but she’s gone and the boy she loved has grown into a man she never knew.”
He held Juliet’s eyes. “I’m not carrying a torch for her.”
&
nbsp; Juliet was the one who broke the eye contact, but because this was Jules, she remade the contact a second later. “I had to ask. I won’t settle for being second best, not even to my best friend. Neither will I settle for a surface fling.”
He hadn’t expected such bluntness, but he smiled slowly at the implication. “So we’re doing this?”
“Five days,” she said, her tone stern and no returning smile on her face. “Five days to see if we can be friends as well as lovers, if we can spend time together like civilized human beings instead of a lion and a wolf circling each other.”
He wanted to kiss her, promised himself a hundred kisses once they were away from prying eyes. “Which one of us is the lion?”
“Jacob.”
“Deal,” he murmured. “Five days.”
“Or we walk away.” A huskiness to her voice now. “There’s too much risk if it’s not about more than the”—a quick glance around to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard before she said—“phenomenal, circuit-blowing sex. I can’t be linked to you if it’s only for a short time. The media will savage me afterward.”
Protective anger rolled through Jake in a tidal wave. “Five days,” he said, even as determination settled into his bones. He hated the idea of Juliet having to face the cameras and the questions on her own, hated the idea of her out in the world without the shield of his name and the support of his presence.
Hated it.
Jacob Esera looked after his own. And Juliet was his.
Part of him had known it from the moment she first made him come alive with her prickles and her generosity and her sensuality. It had just taken the rest of him time to catch up. But now that he had… Well, Jake was known on the rugby field for being a cool head under pressure.
Juliet was about to find out exactly how strategically Jacob Esera could think and plan.
24