Curled up on her king-size bed, on top of the wine-red covers, half-naked.
At least, that’s how he liked to imagine her, and how he liked to look at her.
He’d never been one to think much about a woman’s home decor, but something seemed quite fitting about the deep reds, royal purples and gold colors in her bedroom – sexy shades for a woman who exuded sexiness in her style.
On her nightstand was an eReader and he was willing to bet it was well-stocked with the books she loved – adventure tales, she’d told him the night they met. Stories of naval rescues at sea, of daring treks up mountains, of beating the odds. She was an adventuresome woman, and what she read reflected that side of her. A purple scarf was draped over the lamp on the nightstand, and his mind flashed to other uses for that scarf. He checked out the framed photos on her bureau – pictures of her sister and her, and her sister and a dog too.
“That’s McKenna’s dog. Ms. Pac-Man,” Julia said.
“Cute dog.”
“She is cute and smart,” Julia said, a note of pride in her voice, almost like an aunt beaming about a child. “She’s also loyal and devoted.”
“As a dog should be.”
“And a person,” she added.
“Yes,” he said, agreeing emphatically. “Are you loyal and devoted?”
She nodded, her face serious, her green eyes holding his gaze. There was a fierceness in her look. A certainty. “I only want you. I only think of you,” she said.
“I know the feeling well.”
She patted her bed. “I like the way you look in my apartment.”
“I like the way you look right now,” he said, climbing up on her bed and joining her.
“Are you going to take off those pants and stay the night?” She asked, eyeing his half-dressed state.
“I am considering it,” he said in a wry tone.
“What can I do to convince you?”
He was surprised to find her voice stripped bare of flirting as she posed the question. He was used to her seductive side, the way she’d trail her fingernails along his arm to get what she wanted. But this was a newer side of Julia, a vulnerable one, and it gave him hope that she was finally opening up to him.
He ran his index finger along her jawline. He swallowed, taking a beat. He was going to put it out there. Put himself out there. “Let me in,” he said, as he moved his fingers to her heart, tracing it.
“How?” she asked in a wobbly voice.
“Tell me why you’re scared. Tell me why you ran.”
She sighed heavily, shifting from her side to her back. She closed her eyes; her face seemed pinched. He ran his hand along her bare arm. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re here now. I’m here now. I want to know what I need to do so I don’t scare you away.”
She opened her eyes, turned back to face him. Her expression was softer now. “It’s nothing you can or can’t do. It’s me.”
“Right. It generally is. But tell me how I can help you be comfortable with you and me,” he said. “Because for a while there I was damn sure you were history. My friend Michele even said so in no uncertain terms.”
Like she’d been burned, Julia jerked away from him, sitting up straight. “Michele? Who’s Michele? Your ex?”
He laughed. “Michele is just a friend. Davis’ sister. Known her for years. She also happens to be a shrink.”
“You were talking to her about me?” Julia crossed her arms.
“Yes,” he said, tugging on her hips, trying to pull her back to lie next to him. But she scooted further away into the jumble of pillows by her headboard. “Hey, I was talking to her about you because I like you, woman. Get that straight.”
She narrowed her eyes. Fixed him with a harsh stare. But said nothing.
“And I was trying to understand you, and I still don’t entirely understand, so help a man out.”
“Fine, but I don’t want other women touching you,” she said sharply as she glared at him.
Another laugh took hold of him, deep and rumbling through his chest. It warmed him up, knowing how possessive she was. “I believe I’ve made it patently clear that I am a one-woman kind of man, and you are my kind of woman. But this conversation isn’t about me. I want to know what’s going on with you,” he said, succeeding this time in tugging her alongside him.
She took a breath, pursed her lips together, then exhaled. She looked him square in the eyes; her pretty greens were tinged with sadness and a trace of fear. His heart lurched towards her, wanting to help her, reassure her. She licked her lips, and spoke in a wobbly voice that grew stronger as she pushed through. “I’ve got some trouble from my past chasing me. And I can’t say anything more, because I don’t want you or anyone I care about to get caught up in my problems.”
He started to speak, to tell her he wasn’t afraid of problems, and he certainly didn’t expect anyone to come to a relationship baggage-free, but she held up her hand to silence him.
“Eventually, I’ll be free of it, but right now there’s just stuff I have to deal with, and that’s why I left so quickly,” she said, her voice raw and pained. “I’m sorry.”
“Is somebody hurting you?” he asked, clenching his fists as he kept his voice on an even keel. He didn’t want to scare her, but he sure as hell would scare anyone who laid a hand on her.
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Nor do I have a pill problem or anything like your ex, I swear.” She gripped his bicep, digging her fingers into his flesh to make her point. “I promise.”
“That is excellent news. But what sort of trouble is it, then?”
“Clay,” she said, soft, but insistent in her tone. “That’s all I want to say. I have to keep the people I care about out of it. And I care about you. So deeply, and more than I ever thought I would,” she said, reaching for his hand, and threading her soft fingers through his. “So much more,” she added, squeezing his hand for emphasis, and her touch sent a shiver through him. She kissed his hand. By god, he could get used to this side of her. He would love to see this part of her every day. “It’s my problem to deal with, and I’m dealing with it.”
He wanted to help her, but he wasn’t sure she’d let him so he tried another way to understand the scope of this problem. “Is it something I should be worried about?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He raised an eyebrow, studying her face, trying to read her. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but something in his gut said she was telling the truth. Or maybe he just wanted to believe her. Maybe he could. For now, at least. “Okay, I will try my best not to worry for now then,” he said, though he knew that would be a tall order because already – deep in his gut – he was concerned for her, for everything about her. He wanted to protect her, look out for her. That she was hardly the kind of woman who needed taking care didn’t factor into his thinking one bit. She was his and he couldn’t abide by anyone hurting her.
“Good,” she said, and her face lit up again, her mischievous grin reappearing as she danced her fingers down his chest. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise late-night visit?”
“In town for a meeting. I’m seeing Chris tomorrow about his renegotiations.”
“McKenna didn’t mention it to me.”
He tapped her nose. “It was last-minute. Just scheduled it today and caught an evening flight. I’m heading to L.A. early afternoon, so I’m squeezing the meeting in beforehand.”
“I am glad you squeezed me in,” she said, her hand darting to the waistband of his pants. “Now, have I successfully convinced you to take these off and spend the night with me? I’m not much of a cook but I do know where I can take you tomorrow morning for some fantastic pancakes.”
He pretended to think deeply about the food. “I do love pancakes.”