Juliet's Law (6 page)

She turned around. “Butterscotch,” she said to Josh.

He didn't understand immediately, then looked
over her shoulder to the view of aspens, and grinned. “You're right.”

The expression transformed his face. His eyes crinkled up at the corners and a fan of sun lines radiated outward into his high-planed cheeks. Big strong teeth showed in a wide smile. Juliet felt an electric little zing through her chest.

Whoa. Careful there,
she thought. Flustered, she bent and petted the dog, who had followed them into the room. He lay down at her feet, sighing hard. Juliet chuckled when he covered one of her arches. “Silly thing.”

“Hello again,” Helene said. “You must be very special—nothing would do but the most special of our cookies.” She gestured with amusement to the plate of sugar cookies dusted with cinnamon and slices of yellow cake. “I hope you're hungry.”

“Definitely.”

Josh put his hand on her shoulder. “I have a few errands to run, so I'll leave you to the care of the females in my world, if you don't mind.”

“We'll be fine,” Helene said. “Run along.”

A wave of disappointment washed over Juliet, and she had to paste a smile on her face. “We'll be fine.”

As she helped herself to the tea and cookies, she told herself it was better this way. The less she saw of him, the wiser it would be. Even if she didn't have a fiancé—which she did!—she had other issues. So did Josh.

To the little girl awaiting her opinion of the feast, she
said, “Glory, I have never tasted such a delicious cookie in my life.”

Glory said in the way only a four-year-old could, “I know.” She leaned her hand on her chin. “Will you marry my daddy, Princess? Then I could have a mommy who was a princess.”

Helene said, “Glory, we don't ask such personal questions.”

“It isn't personal.”

Juliet said quickly, “Would you like to show me your red shoes before we forget?”

“Hey! That's a good idea!”

Over Glory's head, Helene mouthed, “Sorry!”

Juliet just shook her head and let a starstruck little girl lead her to the red shoes, feeling like a movie star or a…well, a princess.

 

After showing off her shoes and other treasures, including butterfly hair clips and a poster of Snow White, then having cookies and tea, Glory was glazed with overstimulation. Juliet tried to take her leave, thinking to make up an excuse so the poor thing could get a nap.

“Oh, don't go yet, Princess,” Glory cried. “Auntie Desi's not here. How're you gonna get home?”

“What if you get me some books and we sit here and read?”

“Okay! Will you read to me? I have a whole book about princesses.”

Helene chuckled.

“Of course,” Juliet said.

Glory ran into the other room to find the book she
wanted, and Juliet helped Helene carry the dishes from the dining room into the kitchen. “She's a terrific little girl,” Juliet said.

“Thanks. You must have experience with children. You're very good with her.”

“I don't have any of my own, but I do some work at a center that offers services to displaced immigrant women. A lot of kids there.”

Helene stacked plates into the dishwasher. “That sounds like interesting work. Do you like it?”

Scraping frosting and the shell of pistachio nuts into the trash, Juliet nodded. “Better than my actual job. That's a side job, pro bono work, but it feels like I'm really doing something when I'm there.”

“Sometimes it happens that way—the side trip leads to the main road.”

Startled, Juliet looked up. “I never thought of that.”

Helene smiled and finished loading the dishwasher. She dried her hands on a cup towel. “Will you mind if I leave you with Glory now? Josh is supposed to be back within a half hour.”

“That's fine.”

Glory ran back into the kitchen, a picture book with a glossy cover under her arm. “I got my book.”

“Okay, sweetie. Let's go read.”

T
he room was warm, the fire crackling at her feet. Juliet grew sleepier and sleepier, and she could tell when Glory slumped against her in a heavy slumber. Juliet put the book aside. She thought about the slight shock she got from reading about princesses falling in love with a prince at first kiss, the whole myth and shocking suddenness of it. No wonder, she thought drowsily, there was so much discontent in the world of romance. They'd all been fed this nonsense of love at first sight for the whole of their youth.

Cynic,
said a little voice in her head. But Juliet could find no words to protest. Glory's head nestled against her shoulder. The dog snored lightly. The chair was deep and soft, her feet cradled on an oversize ottoman.

When she startled awake some time later, she had no
idea how much time had passed, but it was the sudden cold spot where Glory's warm body had been that alerted her. She sat straight up, blinking, to see Josh carrying the very asleep weight of girl in his arms.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he said, his voice very soft.

She waved vaguely, surprised at how deeply she'd fallen asleep.

“Be right back,” he mouthed.

Juliet rubbed sensation back into her right arm, and yawned. She must have fallen
really
asleep. The room was gloomy with late afternoon, and the fire had gone very low. Desi would be worried about her!

Jumping up, she tried to remember where she'd put her purse, and finally found it by the table. She dug in the pocket where she kept her cell phone and pulled it out. It was off; with a stab of guilt she turned it back on. The screen told her there were five missed calls.

Five? Yikes! How had she missed five calls?

Then it came to her. She'd turned the phone off yesterday on the plane and never turned it back on. Guiltily, she pushed the button to review the numbers before she picked up voice mail. The first was Scott, yesterday at 4:00 p.m., about the time Desi had been pointing a rifle at Claude. The second was Scott, about 9:00 p.m. last night. The third, Scott, this morning. Desi, number four. Scott number five, just a few hours ago.

She was about to punch the number for voice mail when Josh came back into the room. “Don't bother. I saw Desi about ten minutes ago, and she said to tell you she left a message on the phone to tell you she's going to be awhile. A farmer with some sick pigs.”

“Oh.” She closed the phone, feeling suddenly the enclosed silence of the room, the pair of them essentially alone.

He seemed to notice it, too. “Where'd my mom get off to?”

“She had to meet someone. She said to tell you to call her later.”

“All right.”

Silence dropped between them. Juliet rubbed her hands together. “Um. I hate to be a pain, but I don't really have anywhere to go until Desi comes to get me.”

“You don't have to go anywhere. We can just watch TV and read or something. Can I get you a beer?”

He was already headed for the kitchen. Idly, Juliet watched him go, and her eyes were on his long legs, and to her surprise, a very nice butt. Not just okay. Not just nice—spectacular. Which went along with everything else about him, really. She loved the glossy length of his hair, the darkness of his eyes, the—

She thought of all the phone messages from Scott and felt triply guilty. “I don't know if I should,” she said in response to his offer of a beer.

Josh grinned at her over the door to the fridge. “It's not life or death, sweetheart. Just a beer.”

“You're right. Sure. I'll have one.”

“Excellent.” He brought her a dark bottle. “Want a glass?”

“Are you having one?”

“Nope.” He illustrated by taking a long swallow directly from the lip of the bottle. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Juliet raised hers and took a sip. “Hmm.
That tastes pretty great, actually.” She sank down on the couch. “There's something about the mountains that makes everything taste twenty times better.”

He settled in the chair and leaned forward, his hands loosely between his legs. A glitter lit his dark eyes. “Are you one of those people who feel better at high altitudes?”

“I feel better in mountains, absolutely, but doesn't everyone? The air is so fresh and clean. Makes me feel ten thousand times better. Clearheaded or something.”

“Not everyone does feel better. A lot of people can't tolerate it at all—they get headaches and upset stomachs, can't sleep. But I had a friend once who wasn't much of a talker, and if you got him up in the mountains, he'd start chattering for all he was worth. It made him feel great.”

“I guess I'm more in that category.”

“Good.” He smiled and lifted his beer again. His eyes were fixed on her face, and was it her imagination or was he looking at her mouth? He didn't look away, as was usual, just kept looking at her so directly.

Finally she said, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” His expression grew more serious. “You just have a good face. I like looking at it.”

Not “pretty,” not “sexy.”
A good face.
“I guess that's okay, then.” In the warm lamplight, the hard bones and angles of his face were softened. Enormous dark eyes, that hawkish nose, full lips. “Yours is very strong.”

He licked his bottom lip and to her amazement, Juliet felt a tiny shock of desire rush down her spine. It
suddenly seemed there was dusky warmth in the room, something almost visible blooming right there in the air between them.

And she had no idea what to do with it, or even if she
wanted
to do something. Or not do something. One part of her brain was thinking,
oh, let's kiss him. Those lips are like cake!

She could see, in the little way he rubbed his lip with the very tip of his tongue, that he thought of it, too. It wasn't as if he was doing it to cause a reaction, but more out of a meditative state, and that made it all the more alluring. He was so big and sexy and—

Her phone rang. “Sorry,” she said. “I had this turned off for a whole day and I really should answer it.”

“A whole day,” he said with a slightly mocking lift of a brow. “Go for it. Do you want something to eat?” He stood up.

“Sure, anything.” She flipped open the phone. “Hello?”

“It's about time,” Scott said. “I was worried about you. Is everything okay?”

“The reception is patchy,” she said, turning her engagement ring around and around in a circle, wondering what
else
she might end up lying to him about. “Sorry about that. I'm fine, but you may as well know I don't have reception at Desi's.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Josh straightening in the kitchen, and against her will, she looked at him. His well-shaped legs. The long back clad in a heather-blue T-shirt, his amused, raised eyebrow.

The cell reception in Mariposa was spectacular. The well-to-do skiers who vacationed here insisted upon it.

She shrugged at him.

“I wish you'd check in regularly,” Scott said. “You know you haven't been well.”

A prickle of something moved over her neck.
You haven't been well.
As if she were a vaporous Victorian, prone to faints. “I'm fine, Scott. But I'll do my best to keep in touch. It's just not that easy.” Lies, lies, lies. But she was tired of being fussed over and coddled and
watched.
“How is everything in your world?”

“It's good. As a matter of fact, I have to go to dinner with a client, but I thought I'd try you before I left.”

“Okay, thanks. I should go, too. I'm at the house of a friend of my sister's.”

“Call me soon, then.”

“I will. Take care.”

He clicked off, and Juliet looked down at the phone, thinking. When had they stopped saying
I love you?
When had they ever had any passion?

“That's not the happiest expression,” Josh said, coming back into the room. “Boyfriend troubles?”

She waved the ring. “Fiancé.”

Instead of sitting on the chair, he carried a tray of Vienna sausages, string cheese, crackers and grapes to the coffee table and sat down beside her. He smelled of pine and sunshine. “Not the most elegant stuff around, but you know, I've got to feed a four-year-old.”

“I didn't know they still made Vienna sausages.”

“I eat Spam, too.”

She looked a him. “Really.”

“I'm a guy,” he said, popping a squishy little sausage into his mouth. “We don't have to eat right.”

Juliet found a chuckle rolling up from her chest. “Ah. I'll have to remember that.”

He gestured toward the phone. “Now, you were saying…fiancé troubles?”

“I don't know.” She sighed. “I'm not sure it's working out, but I don't really know why.”

“Sometimes, things aren't right, that's all.”

“Right.” The crackers were grainy, the cheese in neat, white slices. Her stomach growled. “I don't know how I could be hungry. I ate pancakes for breakfast, all that cake and cookies for lunch with your mom and Glory and now this.”

“That's not that much food.” He made a masterpiece of layering a two-inch sandwich of crackers and cheese and sausages. “But then you're one of those California girls, aren't you? A spinach leaf for lunch, a grain of brown rice for dinner and all the chardonnay you can drink?”

She dropped her jaw in exaggerated shock. “Ow!” Raising a quick eyebrow, she said, “You must know some of my girlfriends.”

“They all come here to ski.”

“Of course.” His knee was only a few inches from her own, and she poked it with one finger. “But not all of us are Hercules, you know, able to down 12,000 calories a day.”

“True.” He rubbed his broad chest happily. “It's good to be a guy.”

She found her gaze on that big hand, the chest beneath it. His fingernails were clean, flat ovals. At the opening of his Henley, the skin was the brown of good
wheat bread, very smooth. Absurdly, richly, she imagined her mouth on that sleek triangle of skin.

Lost in a spell of newborn desire, she raised her eyes and found him looking back at her.

In that second, the thickness bloomed around them again. An atmosphere as humid as a cloud, fragrant with possibility. The only thing in the world for a moment was Josh. The lavishly fringed eyes, his quirky mouth, those giant hands that she'd seen could be so gentle.

He leaned forward and put the crackers down, and carefully brushed his fingers clean. Lacing his hands together, he leaned on his knees, putting his face much closer to hers. “Is it my imagination,” he said, “or is there something clicking here between us?”

“Clicking is not the right word,” Juliet said quietly. Blooming, maybe. She looked at his mouth, and could not even remember when she had so longed for a kiss. His mouth entirely filled her vision—full lower lip, sharply cut upper. Black whiskers, a few millimeters long, grew around his mouth in a sparse goatee shape, and it occurred to her that he probably didn't grow much beard.

“It isn't your imagination,” she said, and swallowed.

“That's what I thought,” he said, the voice rumbling out of that deep chest with the depth of a drum. His nostrils flared as he looked at her mouth, at her breasts, which pearled embarrassingly, back to her face, all without touching her. “Probably shouldn't do anything about it, though.”

“I'm engaged,” she offered.

“So you said.” He moved one hand and touched her
diamond, just the ring, then the knuckle right above it. “There's more though. You have something in your past.”

Juliet swallowed. “Yes.”

“And so do I.”

“Oh.” She looked at him. “What do you have?” Then she waved a hand. “Never mind. You've given me privacy. I'll give you yours.”

“It's all right—mine is pretty common. An ex-wife who is unstable and dramatic and kidnapped my daughter.”

“I'm so sorry. That's why you're worried about Glory.”

“That's right.”

She loved the simple straightforwardness of him, the way he met her eyes, the directness of his speech. He was real in a way she hadn't encountered in a long time. In L.A., everybody seemed to feel a need to play to the audience. Not this one.

Honestly, what was this? This narcotic spell he cast? Would he kiss her? Would she let him?

“I can be strong, Princess,” he said, “but not if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Sorry.” With effort, she stood up and walked away. Shaking her head, she turned, donning her lawyer self. “Let's just not do that. Too much going on.”

“Agreed. Come eat your crackers and cheese.”

She sat back down. “Is it all right if I ask what happened to your ex?”

“It's fine. Nobody knows where she is.” He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, she's an alcoholic and doesn't seem to want to get help, so she's just out there.”

“I'm sorry. That's hard.”

“It is. And it's especially hard for Glory, who loves her.”

Juliet settled a slice of cheese precisely on a single grainy cracker, and balanced it in her fingers. “I assume she was not an alcoholic when you met her.”

“Right.”

“So, what did the two of you give each other?” She got ready to bite the cracker. “Was it love or need or—what? Why did you fall in love?”

“Hmm.” He gave her a look. “Right for the heart of things, huh?”

She shrugged. “You don't have to answer. I'm just thinking about these things.”

“What things?”

“Love things.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

“Love things,” he repeated, and took a breath, looking into the middle distance. “Andy—my ex—is very beautiful. I was just getting out of the army in Colorado Springs and I met her at a nightclub. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Glory looks just like her.”