I NEED YOU
SANDRA MURPHY WASN’T used to visitors on Sundays.
Especially when they came in the form of handsome young men.
She blinked her gray eyes at him as he stood on the front porch, wrapped up in a heavy, dark blue coat with a hood lined in faux fur. His hands were jammed in his pockets and his nose and cheeks were kissed by the chilly air.
“Um, may I help you?” She asked him.
“I know this seems weird,” he began. His blue eyes were kind and she was momentarily distracted by the small strand of his short, blonde hair that lifted with the light breeze above his forehead. “But I was, uh, I was passing by and I noticed…uh, I noticed that your fence…your fence badly needs to be replaced. The wooden one. The picket—“
“I know which fence you’re referring to,” she interrupted him with a huff. She was instantly annoyed. She already knew what was coming next, so she chose to nip it in the bud before he even finished his pitch. “We are a non-profit organization—“ Then her eyes landed on the silver Rolex that peeked out between his sleeve and his coat pocket. She stammered. “And we, um…”
He smiled. “Well, that’s perfect. Because I happen to be the CEO of a very prominent construction company, with more than the means to take care of every repair on this property and then some.”
“I see…”
“Also, it’s pretty cold out here.”
Her eyes widened. “Of course! Forgive me, please. Come in.”
She held the door for him and he stepped in past her, his Rolex-clad wrist coming out of his pocket and flipping over a business card toward her. “Eric Reynolds, Reynolds Construction. Lovely home.”
“We try to make it as lovely as we possibly can for the children,” Sandra replied, looking over the card as she closed the door behind him.
She looked up at him as his arm extended and he nodded at something behind her. “Banister on that staircase is looking a little loose, there.”
“Why, yes, um—“
“It would be unfortunate if it gave way under the weight of one of those children.”
“It would, yes, um—“ And then her eyes widened. “Did the state send you? Did someone report us?”
Finally, his alarm matched hers. “What?”
“Is this a surprise inspection? Because that banister has only been loose for—“
“No,” he replied, shaking his head rapidly. “No, I’m not anybody like that, I’m just—I just want to help. Seriously. That’s it.”
She studied him as she shifted her weight from one white sneaker to the other. “All right, then. So how did you end up here, of all the places you could randomly choose to be helping?”
He smiled and he winked at her. “Let’s just say I know somebody who knows somebody. As a matter of fact,” he paused, reaching into the inside of the breast of his coat. He pulled out a Tablet and waved it in front of her. “I’ve put together a plan. A list of ideas, maybe. I’d like to go over them with you, if you don’t mind. That is, do I…do I have the correct person?”
“Yes,” she replied warily. “Yes, I’m Sandra Murphy, this is my facility.”
“I assume you have an office, then, Ms. Murphy?”
“I do.”
“Can you spare me a few minutes of your precious time?”
She swallowed a lump and let out a breath. “Of course. Right this way.”
* * *
Two hours later, The Loving Care Home for Children had a new benefactor, along with an alarmingly generous donation. They also had a schedule of repairs to be completed, a plan for a brand new playground, and some hopeful ideas for new intramural and tutoring programs for the children. All at the hands of this mysterious Eric Reynolds.
“Wonderful,” he grinned as he slipped his Tablet back into his coat. “This is just wonderful. I’m excited to get started. In the meantime, would you mind forwarding me the children’s Christmas lists?”
She gaped at him. “All of them?”
“Yes,” he replied simply. “All of them. All my information is there, work and personal. Feel free to call me anytime, day or night.”
As he stood, she stood with him from the opposite side of her desk. “Mr. Reynolds, I must ask again…why? You came to us, seemingly out of nowhere and…and this just…it all just seems too good to be true.”
He grinned and he shrugged a shoulder. “I just want to help. We’ll be in touch. Often.” And then he winked and he walked out the door.
Without a single write off form or charity receipt in hand.
JULIET’S EYELASHES FLUTTERED in surprise as Jason Kamealoha’s towering height lingered in her office doorway the following Monday. His smile could have lit up the entire building.
“Um, uh, Jason,” she stammered. “This is an unexpected surprise.”
“This is an impromptu date,” he grinned, rocking back on his heels.
“Excuse me?”
“A celebratory lunch break. You break now, right?”
“In a few minutes, yes…”
“Awesome. Then I’ll wait.”
She watched the long, gray overcoat as it helped itself to one of the white, upholstered chairs on the opposite side of her desk. She stared at Jason’s sparkling green eyes for a moment, reviewing what he’d said, and then her breath caught in her throat. “Jason?” She fought the smile that threatened to creep across her lips. “What, exactly, are we celebrating?”
He nodded. “You know exactly what we’re celebrating. Because I’m your man.”
Her smile finally widened. “Am I buying a building?”
“You’re buying a building!”
“Yes!” Her arms flew up into the air in victory as she pushed her chair away from her desk. The chair spun a little as she celebrated. “Finally! Finally, Jason! God, if you only knew how long we’ve been going through this—“
He chuckled and he nodded gleefully. “I told you I had you, didn’t I? I told you I was your guy.”
Finally, she smiled and she nodded at him. “Yes. Yes, you are absolutely my guy. Thank you so much, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
He sat back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Not even an issue,” he smiled. Then he popped his collar. “That commission alone is going to be sa-weet.”
Juliet giggled and threw a balled-up sheet of copy paper at him. “So when’s the date?”
“Uh, right now. Didn’t we already establish--?
“No!” She laughed again. “The closing date.”
“Oh. Yeah. Wide open. Whenever you want.”
She arched a testing eyebrow. “Today?”
He scowled at her and hung his head to the side. “Jules,” he deadpanned. “Be realistic.”
“Tomorrow? Wednesday?”
“Wednesday seems reasonable.”
“Wonderful,” her voice trailed as she let her mind get lost in thought. “Then I can go ahead and schedule a meeting with Reynolds for the teardown on Friday…”
“Jules,” Jason’s bass interrupted her. “I’m hungry.”
“Oh!” She exclaimed, snapping out of her trance. “Is it twelve?”
“Twelve oh three,” he corrected, glancing up from his phone. “You won’t like me when I’m hungry.”
Juliet rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Some things never change.”
AS TRAVIS STEPPED onto the elevator, Jason Kamealoha was stepping off of it. “Hey!” The towering Hawaiian greeted him with a smile. “What’s up?”
“Not much,” Travis replied. He’d met Jason at a group dinner recently where he’d been invited at Beth’s insistence. He was a cool guy and they’d found that they had a few things in common. It hadn’t taken long before Travis decided that the guy could hang. But now the way Jason looked at him was beginning to rub him the wrong way.
“Lunch with Beth?” Jason asked.
“No,” Travis replied.
“Hm,” Jason nodded. “Well, it was good seeing you again. Later, man.”
“Yeah. Later.”
As the elevator doors closed, Travis looked himself over on one of the mirrored walls. He slid his hands over his slick, blonde hair, letting one of them trail to the end of his ponytail. What was Jason looking at? Was it the hair? The last time Jason saw him, Travis’s hair was its normal, unruly self. Was it the suit? The coat? The scarf? The last time Jason saw him, Travis had donned a casual tee shirt and jeans. He knew Travis worked in construction. Was he puzzled by his clean appearance? Maybe. He supposed he might be able to see Jason’s confusion.
Speaking of confusion, what had Jason been doing at Carson Innovations, anyway?
Stepping off of the elevator, he suppressed the smirk that tried to fight its way across his lips as the new receptionist, Ann, turned beet red upon sight of him. He was aware of his effect on women. He’d used it to his advantage for many years. And though he was strictly a one-woman man now, the flattery never grew old.
“Hey, Annie,” he purred.
“Hi, Mr. Reynolds,” the redhead swooned from behind her glasses.
“Annie. We’ve talked about this. Call me Travis.” Then he sauntered past the desk and glanced down the hallway to his right. “Juliet in?”
He didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he helped himself on the pathway to her office, amidst the Zen wall fountain and the bamboo plants. “Mr. Reynolds!” Ann called after him. “Mr. Reynolds, I have to call Miss Carson—“
But he was already opening the door to her office.
When he walked in, Juliet was all smiles as she held the black phone receiver to her ear and twisted her chair from side to side. She twirled the cord around her fingers as she spoke. “Oh, that’s wonderful! It will be a full meeting just like the last one, but it’ll be held here this time. I’ll take care of the details and you handle the scheduling…No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, you’re his receptionist, aren’t you?” Finally, Juliet’s eyes met Travis’s and her face went pale. “You know what?” She continued into the phone. “Never mind about the scheduling. It appears that another one of your superiors has found his way into my office. I’m sure I can continue this conversation with him. You’ve been most helpful, Hilary, thank you so much.”
When Juliet hung up the phone, her eyes fell onto her desk and she fumbled around with her paperwork. For the first time since he’d met her, she appeared nervous. Or was that…hurt in her eyes?
Damn. Travis hated this shit.
He cleared his own nervous lump from his throat. “So. You were on the phone with my office.”
“Yes,” she murmured quietly, avoiding his eyes. “We’re closing on the building on Wednesday and I’ve scheduled a meeting for Friday. Your receptionist assured me that all schedules would be open for it.”
“Uh, yeah,” he replied, taking a couple more cautious steps into the room. “Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem, we’re as anxious to get started as you are. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“Juliet,” he began quietly. Then he paused to close the door.
“Leave it open,” she barked suddenly, finally lifting her eyes from her desk. “Eric always closes the door and my staff is already getting suspicious.”
“Uh, right.”
Pulling the door back open, Travis sauntered a few more steps into the room, shoving his hands in his pockets. Juliet’s office was light, bright, and modern and her white business suit reflected it. Her dark waves were pinned loosely off of her shoulders and Travis had to admit that he’d never taken the time to appreciate just how striking she was. He could see why Eric couldn’t stay away.
“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now,” he continued carefully.
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Because from what I could gather, the sentiment is vice versa.”
Travis dropped his head in guilt. “Um, that’s not…that’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. You don’t have to pretend. I’m the Big Bad Wolf that you feel the need to protect your brother from. Ironically enough, I get it.”
“Juliet,” Travis breathed. “Beth, um…Beth told me. You know, about you.”
Suddenly, her eyes darted into his. “I don’t need your pity,” she spat. “I don’t need anyone’s pity.”
“I didn’t come here for that,” he argued. “I came here to apologize for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.”
“Yeah? After you were told my pathetic story. I think I liked it better when you thought I was screwing your brother over for the fun of it.”
“Okay, yeah,” he finally shot back. “I worry about Eric. Okay? I always have. He’s my brother. He’s vulnerable and he’s—“
“He’s a lot stronger than you give him credit for,” she snapped. “He knows details. Gory details of my sordid past and he didn’t run. Either that or pity runs deep in the Reynolds blood.”
“Are you always this difficult to talk to?”
“What did you think was going to happen here, Travis? That you were going to come in here and deliver some half-assed apology just to appease Beth? And that I would just forget the hate and the contempt in your voice when you spoke to me the other night? Admit it, Travis. You were ready to write me off as the common whore I’ve been made out to be until you heard that I got beat up on a little and now you feel sorry for me.”
Travis opened his mouth to speak, but Juliet wasn’t finished. “Everything that I feel for Eric is real. He and I speak, there’s nothing lost on him. I haven’t lied to him or deceived him and everything that exists between us is just that—between us. I understand your concern for your brother. He’s lucky to have you look out for him. But he’s a grown man. And you should be focusing more on your relationship with my best friend.”
Travis’s jaw dropped and he was left momentarily speechless. In an effort to collect his thoughts, he removed his coat and settled himself into one of the chairs at her desk, draping it across the adjacent one.
“Sure, go ahead, make yourself at home,” she murmured as she slid a pair of glasses onto her face and went back to sorting through her paperwork.
“I’m not leaving here until you and I are on better terms. And it’s raining outside, so I don’t have a worksite to be on today. I have all the time in the world.”
With that, he sat back in the chair and crossed his ankle comfortably over his knee.
Juliet scoffed and shook her head. “I swear, the both of you are exactly alike.”
“Well,” he smirked. “We are identical twins, you know.”
She glanced up at him and her nostrils flared in frustration. Finally, she removed her glasses and she pressed a button on the phone. “Ann. Would you please come and shut my door?”
Travis suppressed a laugh. “Do you have staff or servants?”
Juliet glared at him. “In light of recent—and past—events, I feel the need to be careful of the way things operate in my office. Every little detail counts, including who’s closing what door. I know you’ve seen all the lovely headlines. I’d like to not add to them. I’ve already lost a staff member to one of your competitors and I’d rather not take chances. My professional reputation is already on thin ice. Surely you can appreciate that.”
Travis nodded, running his fingers across his lips. He had a feeling that before this was over, he would choke to death on his own foot.
He let out a breath. “Look. Juliet. Can we just cut it out with the formalities? I’m not here on business. I have a feeling that…I don’t know, somewhere down the line, in some way, shape, or form, we’re linked for life. Okay? You and I—we both love people who mean the world to each of us—“
She arched an eyebrow.
“We do,” he clarified. “And it would make everyone’s lives a lot easier if said loved ones didn’t…feel like they were caught in the middle of any kind of animosity.”
“For the record,” she replied, her voice softening. “I’ve never felt any animosity toward you. You’re good to Beth and you’re a great brother to Eric. So I feel like what you’re referring to is that any kinds of feelings of…apprehension might be what Beth and Eric are feeling toward you. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
“Well, no, it fucking kills me to watch Beth feel torn between whatever fucked up bullshit you and Eric have going on,” he spouted off uncontrollably.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” she said suddenly. “I appreciate the effort, but let’s just agree to disagr—“
“Wait,” he sighed. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”
“You don’t like me—“
“That’s not true—“
“And that’s fine. But Eric is the first man who’s ever made me feel human. He makes me feel like I matter. I can talk to him about everything and I adore him in ways that I don’t even understand, yet. But if I decide that I want to be healthy before I allow any commitments to be made, if I decide that I want to spare him and ensure his happiness? That’s my business. And his. You can take it or leave it. Nobody said that ‘whatever fucked up bullshit Eric and I have going on’ was going to be easy. But I do think that he and I at least deserve the respect and the trust to see it through. And if it’s too difficult for you or Beth to allow either one of us to lean on you for any kind of support, please feel free to let us know. Spare us. Or at least spare him.”
Travis closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re right,” he conceded. “You’re absolutely right. I admit, I’ve been unfairly judgmental and presumptuous. I apologize. But you have to also understand that Eric and I shared a womb. We’re quite literally carbon copies of each other. We’re connected in ways that normal siblings could only understand on a fraction of a level. I feel everything he feels and he feels everything that I feel. You know, mostly. I’ve been looking out for him our entire lives. He’s been through some things…he scares me sometimes, Jules. He really does. And I don’t mean to sound like I’m laying the blame directly on you for anything, but sometimes I get so angry with no place to displace it. I’m wrong for that and I know it. But Eric is my number one priority and my number one instinct is to always eliminate the things that hurt him. Please understand that half the things that come out of my mouth aren’t personal.”
To his surprise, she stared back at him, blinking away tears that had begun to brim her eyes. Her nose and cheeks were developing a pink hue. “So I’ve hurt him.”
“Juliet—“
“And the only way to spare him is for me to exit the picture.”
“That’s not—that’s not what I’m saying.”
But her voice cracked and the red on her face deepened. “I don’t want to hurt him. I care about him. I only want what’s best for him. What’s—? Is that what’s best for him?”
Travis took a deep breath. “That’s not really—I mean, you said so, yourself, he’s a grown man. That’s…that’s not really my call to make.”
She swallowed visibly and her eyes darted around in thought. Her chest heaved with breath and Travis straightened up in his seat out of concern for her. “Jules? Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“You make him happy,” he replied gently. “That much, I know.”
“I don’t understand how…”
“Does anybody really understand how any of this works?” He scoffed. “I mean, how does someone as classy and sophisticated as Beth end up falling for a bum like me? You know?”
“You’re not a bum,” Juliet shook her head through her tears.
“Sure, I am. I’ve done nothing but fuck around and fly by the seat of my pants my entire life. Everything came easy, everything was a party. Women came and went, they were…” His voice trailed off as he stared into her waiting eyes. “Well, shit.”
“What?” She asked, alarmed.
“Commitment is scary as fuck, isn’t it?”
Juliet nodded.
“I mean, you drift through life, afraid to lose control of yourself and get tied down for whatever fucked up reason and then you meet someone who literally takes the life right out of your chest against your will and…and you allow it. And you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, but you know you’ve never felt anything like it and you don’t want it to end, but…you live your life on eggshells every single day, deathly afraid of fucking it up with one wrong move…so you do whatever you feel is necessary to hold onto it.” He stopped and he looked into Juliet’s eyes, as wide and as innocent as he’d ever seen them before, and the realization hit him like a freight train. “I’ve had you all wrong this entire time,” he whispered. “I am so sorry.” Then he cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat. “Look, don’t go telling anyone about this sappy-ass shit, okay? I’m only…you know, I might need you someday. You know, because of Beth and stuff. You’re like sisters, right?”
Juliet nodded again.
“Juliet,” he said again with startling realization. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes blinked rapidly as if she’d just been shaken from a trance and her flustered expression replied, “I heard you.”
He cleared his throat and pulled on his shirt collar. “So, um, I mean, are we cool? You know, bygones and shit? I mean, you know, if you need to yell at me or cuss me or whatever, that’s totally cool. I’m right here. I get it.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said quietly. “No, I just…it’s fine, I just need to think about some things, that’s all.”
“You can’t listen to half the shit I say. I mean, half the time I don’t even know what the hell I’m talking about. Hey,” he said anxiously. Suddenly he realized that he was afraid. He was afraid that he’d said too much and had possibly driven the nail in the coffin of any chance at a future with this woman that his brother might have. Travis never realized how skittish and vulnerable Juliet was until he was face-to-face with her in a situation such as this one. “We got a meeting coming up, right? You wanna talk about that? I mean, I’m here, I can do everything Eric can do. Right?”
Juliet’s rigid shoulders rose and fell as she sucked in a deep breath and plastered a painfully fake smile across her face as she took a pen in her hand. “Yes,” she replied breathlessly. “That, um, that sounds like a good idea. Do you need a pad of paper? Since you’re…you know, empty-handed?”
“Yeah,” he accepted quickly. “Yeah, please, let’s, uh, let’s get this started.”
Travis had never been more uncomfortable in his life. If he’d learned anything that day, however, it was to not be so quick to judge, learn to let Eric fly on his own, and never take Beth for granted. As a matter of fact, as soon as he left that office, Beth would be treated like a queen that night. Didn’t he owe her a pedicure, anyway…?
“YOU’RE BUILDING TOO much muscle.”
Eric sat on the table in his doctor’s office, hating his own life. His doctor, Dr. Alan Kiminsky, was in his late thirties and had been his doctor for the past five or six years now. After they’d bumped into each other at a few parties outside of the medical center, Eric and Alan had gone for beers together on a few occasions. Alan was a cool guy, someone the ladies couldn’t keep their eyes off of with his short-cropped, light-brown hair and light green eyes, topped off with lady-killer dimples, and was hopelessly devoted to his wife, Carlotta, an Italian goddess whom he’d met in college. Carlotta was currently very pregnant with their first child and Eric had planned to come in and inquire about her pregnancy in order to keep most of Alan’s attention off of him, but the attempt was futile. Sure, they could share a casual beer together, but his profession was something that Alan didn’t take lightly—or sugarcoat.
The closing statement after his physical instantly annoyed Eric. “Bullshit.”
“And that, right there, is your problem,” Alan pointed his pen at him.
“What? That I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as the puny little shit I was growing up?”
Eric looked him over, disgusted by his sudden professionalism and his white lab coat. Who the hell did Alan think he was, anyway? Eric’s doctor?
Oh, yeah. He was.
“You’re hardly puny, Eric,” Alan assured him.
Eric scoffed. “I could be bigger.”
Alan shook his head, tapping on the back of his clipboard. “No, you really can’t. You can maintain a healthy, athletic build—“
Eric was growing anxious. “Well, what about Travis? We’re practically fucking clones! He could fucking eat me alive!”
“Because he takes care of himself the way he’s supposed to.”
“I take care of myself.”
“Sure,” Alan nodded. “That’s why you ended up in the ER and why you’re sitting in front of me for the follow up.”
“Well, I’m sorry I wasted your time,” Eric sneered. “I’m fine.”
“We should review your treatment—“
“My treatment is fine. I know what I’m doing! I know how to take care of myself, my muscle mass is fine—“
“Okay, then,” Alan said, tossing the clipboard onto the table behind him. “You’re the boss, right? You have the degree--?”
“I know my body,” Eric glared.
“You know what?” Alan conceded. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Just let me make the proper adjustments to your medication so that you can turn yourself into the Incredible Hulk. That’ll be shooting up twice a day instead of once…”
“What?”
“You want healthy or do you want hulky?”
Eric sighed in defeat, running his hand through his hair.
Alan smirked in triumph. “That’s what I thought. More cardio, more toning, less building. Got it? I want to see you again in a month.”
“What else is new?” Eric murmured.
As Alan picked the clipboard back up and began jotting on it, he asked nonchalantly, “So how are things otherwise?”
The question caught Eric off guard and he hesitated as he wiped his palms on his jeans. “Otherwise?”
“Yeah. Otherwise. You know, maybe the reason why you spaced out and landed in the ER to begin with.”
Eric let out a breath and looked Alan over. The difference between Alan and the rest of his friends was that Alan was his doctor. He’d seen Eric’s body inside and out, poked and prodded, and discussed issues that he would never, in a million years, discuss with the likes of Terrell or Barry or Jesse. Plus, Alan didn’t know any of them besides Travis, and he came equipped with that handy little patient confidentiality deal that would get him sued if he ever blabbed to anyone. That made him safe.
So Eric came out with it. “There’s this woman—“
“Juliet Carson?”
Eric’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”
“It’s all over the place. Well, your picture is, anyway. You know that woman can’t go anywhere in this city without being photographed.”
Eric was temporarily struck dumb. Since he’d begun seeing her, it never occurred to Eric to Google anything about her anymore. He supposed that in his mind, since she wasn’t dating around and seeing other men, nobody was talking about her. How could he have been so stupid? Of course they were still talking about her. Except now, apparently, they were whispering about her one man instead of many. Eric swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and he fought the urge to whip his phone out of his pocket. No. It didn’t matter what anyone said or where they’d been seen or what the speculations were. Eric and Juliet knew the absolute truth. And that was all he needed.
Well. They almost knew the absolute truth.
“Anyway,” Eric breathed. “Yeah. So…she’s incredible. She’s everything I ever…she understands all my bullshit. You know? She gets me. But she’s a strong woman and a woman like her needs a man who is equally as strong, someone who can handle her—“
Alan cut him off. “So you’re saying that she doesn’t know about this whole…situation, yet.”
“On one hand I feel like an asshole because she spilled her guts and told me everything. There is absolutely nothing I don’t know about that woman. And she—she knows me, except…you know? I’m too ashamed to tell her, I don’t want her to see me as some…helpless invalid. That’s not the person I want to be, I don’t want…this.”
“Eric,” Alan replied, his voice softening. “This is…this is your life. Whether you want it or not, you’re stuck with it. It’s not going away. It’s a big deal, it’s not really something you can hide. Especially not from someone you care about. I mean, do you…do you intend to share a life with this woman?”
Eric glanced up at Alan shamefully as he fidgeted with his thumbs in his lap. “I want to.”
“Then you especially know you can’t hide it. She won’t see you as any less of a man, if that’s what the trouble is.”
“She’s already older than me,” he pouted. “I don’t need one more reason to be viewed as younger. Or weaker.”
“But you have to take care of yourself. If you’re trying to keep this from her, that’s your business, I’m not going to pry. If you really want to keep it from her, then taking care of yourself properly is the only way you’re going to get by with it. What happens if you’re with her and this happens again? Your cover will definitely be blown then. And what happens if your brother’s on vacation or something and can’t rush to be at your side to participate in your little charade? Like I said, what you do in your personal life is none of my business. But I think you’re worrying for nothing.”
Eric let out a breath again and went over Alan’s words. He was right. Of course he was right. But Juliet was dealing with so much already, she didn’t need to worry about Eric, either. So he nodded and he stood up off the table. “Okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll deal with it.”
“Okay,” Alan nodded again. “So, it looks like we’re done here today. I’ll see you in a month. You know, unless you want grab lunch or drinks or something sometime.”
“Oh, yeah, how’s Carlotta doing?”
“Well…maybe dinner at my place, then. Carlotta is…very pregnant. I freak out every time she calls.”
The two men chuckled and Eric smiled as he headed for the door. “Well, send her my best, then.”
“Will do.”
Ten minutes later, Eric was sitting in traffic on his way home. He had left work early to make this appointment and now all he wanted to do was talk to Juliet. He picked up his phone and looked at it, his lock screen still adorned by his favorite picture of her, and he sighed. He unlocked it, pulled up her number, and hit the button to call and held his breath.
All the while knowing that he wouldn’t get an answer.
JULIET SAT ON her couch, curled up in the corner of it, in her sweats and her favorite socks, sipping on a glass of wine. She had come straight home after work, not feeling like stopping anywhere, not to pick up groceries or dry cleaning or any of it. She was tired. The day had been long, exhausting, and bittersweet.
Walking into a large, quiet apartment should have been soothing but, instead, she only felt emptiness. And the sharp pang of loneliness. And she wanted so badly to call Eric, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it to him. How could he allow her to lean on him so much when so much uncertainty hung in the air above her? How could she discuss her issues with therapy when she knew exactly what he was going to say about it? How many more times could she talk to him or look at him and not throw herself completely at his mercy? That was all she wanted in life, she was beginning to realize—to live in his arms and breathe in his scent. He was so addictive, so…intoxicating; so good and so kind. Why couldn’t she? Why couldn’t that be her life? It could be, it was right there waiting for her. But what had she done to deserve it? Who was she to think she deserved a man like Eric? Travis was right. Commitment was scary as fuck.
The television played the news and several lamps glowed dimly around her apartment. Her home was cozy, she could at least take comfort in that. Beneath her, a small Persian rug held up her antique coffee table, which stayed littered with the latest fashion and interior design magazines. But she wasn’t concentrating on the daily goings-on in Manhattan or the inventory in her home. Instead, she sipped her drink mindlessly and waited for the doorbell to ring.
After a few minutes, her doorbell didn’t ring, but her phone did. Glancing at it in her hand, she saw Eric’s name on the screen. She swallowed nervously. She hadn’t spoken to him since their texts the past Friday night and she’d been trying to decide how to deal with her therapy situation. She still had no answer and time was passing.
And seeing Eric’s name yanked the heartstrings right out of her chest.
So she swiped to answer. “Hey,” she said quietly.
“Hey,” he breathed in surprise. “I wasn’t, uh…”
“I know,” she said sheepishly. “I’m not the easiest to reach, I know. Sometimes I don’t know how to…you know, deal, and I shut down.”
“Juliet, I need you.”
His tone startled her and her heart rate instantly rose. “Eric—“
“No,” he demanded, his voice shaky. “I need you. I’m here every single time you need me, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Be there for me.”
Juliet nodded for a moment before realizing that he couldn’t see her. “I’m here.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Um, nothing, I’m…I’m waiting on Chinese to be delivered. If you want to have dinner, we can share, there’s always so much—“
“Uh…well, can’t you cancel it? Cancel it and…and let me cook. I’ll make dinner, I just have to stop by the store—“
“But it’s—it’s already en route, I don’t understand—“
“So save it for tomorrow or something, it’ll keep. Let me do this. I…I need to do this.”
She took a deep breath and she nodded again. “Okay.”
“I’ll be there in an hour. You don’t have to do anything, it’s nothing fancy. Keep your socks on and don’t lift a finger. Okay?”
Juliet smiled a closed-lipped smile and wiggled her toes gently. She loved the way he knew her. “Okay.”
“Trust me.”
“I do,” she whispered.
And she did. She would have lain her life in his hands and never thought twice about it. The thought scared her to death.
* * *
An hour and a half later, Eric was hard at work in Juliet’s kitchen. She’d barely had the opportunity to drink in how incredible he looked in his casual jeans and blue, plaid button-down before he breezed in, swept his lips across her cheek, and headed straight for the kitchen.
He’d barely remembered to remove his coat before he started unloading the groceries and she watched him in stunned silence before his first words to her had finally been, “You got one of those glass baking dishes? Like a casserole dish or whatever?”
Sitting her wine glass on the counter, she’d looked at him with concern. “Eric. Are you okay? What’s—what’s this all about? Do you need a drink? Beer, wine--?”
“Water’s fine,” he’d murmured as he went back to rummaging through her cabinets.
“Bottom of the island,” it had been her turn to murmur as she prepared a glass for him. She didn’t like the feeling she was getting in the pit of her stomach from all this. They’d known each other a short time and had been through a lot of shit already—but he seemed sincerely bothered and all Juliet wanted to do in the moment was hold him.
Was that even the right emotion to feel?
So now she stood and she watched as he cut up vegetables and seasoned a couple of chicken breasts before putting it all together in the casserole dish and sliding it into the oven. He only took a second to take a breath before he moved on to the dishes and, finally, Juliet felt the need to intervene.
“Eric,” she said gently, laying her hand over his wrist as he placed a dish in the sink. “I can get this later. Right now you’re scaring me. The only thing you’ve said to me in almost an hour involved a casserole dish.”
He didn’t look at her. Instead, he hung his head and leaned against the sink. “I’m sorry. I just—it’s been a long day. I had a doctor’s appointment and I just—“
Juliet’s breath caught in her throat and her hand let go of Eric’s as she took a step backward, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh, no. What did--? Is that what this is about? Are you sick?”
“No. Yes. Well, technically I am, but it’s not terminal. But if I don’t take care of myself…”
“Just say it already, will you?” Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard.
Finally, he turned and braced his hand against the countertop. “I’m diabetic,” he revealed quietly. “Very diabetic. Type one.”
She looked him over for a moment, taking in his words and wanting to nearly burst with joy at the fact that it wasn’t anything terminal. But she kept her composure. “Your doctor told you this today?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I’ve had it my entire life. Travis has it, too. He’s just…a little more diligent about it than I am.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “A little more diligent? Is that—is that why you got sick that night, why you practically ran from my apartment?”
“Yes,” he replied shamefully.
“Eric. You can’t—you can’t do that!”
“I know. I know, it’s just…so monotonous sometimes. I have to shoot insulin daily and count my carbs and keep a constant check on my blood sugar. There are so many numbers and counting and…it gets to be too much sometimes, I just…don’t want to do it anymore.”
“Well, you don’t have a choice,” she retorted forcefully.
The maternal tone that came from Juliet so suddenly was foreign to her. However, she was angry at him for keeping such a necessary secret from her that she blatantly disregarded the look of shock that flashed across his eyes before he turned back to the sink and turned on the water.
Shoving his sleeves up, he thrust his hands underneath the faucet. “Anyway, there it is,” he muttered.
“Oh,” she shot as she crossed her arms over her chest. “So there it is. That’s it, huh? There it is.”
He side-glanced at her before he began adjusting the dishes in the sink. He didn’t respond, but she could tell he was thinking about it, so she gave him a moment. She realized that this was the first time she’d ever scolded him like this and, while she felt bad for it, she didn’t feel bad enough because this was literally his life they were talking about. And that was a subject that she wasn’t willing to take lightly.
Finally, she reached over the sink and turned off the water and batted his hands away from the sink. When she wasn’t satisfied with the result, she grabbed him by the bicep and shoved him backward, forcing him to face her.
“Your diet is horrible,” she huffed. She could feel the heat rising to her face and, in response, Eric took a step backward. “All the grease and the sugar and salt and…and you let me feed you that ice cream…monstrosity!”
“Uh, actually, I—“
“I’m not finished! Then you come to my place and you pig out on cookies and you…you run out of here…and I don’t hear from you all night after you promised to call and I’m worried sick and the next day…you looked like shit! Like absolute shit, where were you, Eric? Where were you that night? Did you go to the hospital?”
“Yes,” he whispered guiltily.
“You spent the night in the hospital. That’s where you went.”
“I didn’t take my insulin that day—“
“And then you came to work on zero rest. And then you let me come over and we—well, fuck, Eric, did you bother to medicate yourself that day, either?”
“Yes!” His reply came with more force. “Yes, I did.”
“So what, then? So you just get to choose when you feel the need to spend a free night in the hospital? Is that it? ‘Oh, you know, I have a severe form of diabetes, but they don’t let me sleep in their beds unless I’m fucking dying!’ Is that it, Eric? Because, honestly, I’m not seeing why you wouldn’t want to live a healthy life. I’m not—I’m not seeing the logic here. Help me.”
Suddenly, as the visuals of him lying helpless and sick flooded her mind, her rage was only fueled. She glared at him in silence for a moment before she turned around and marched to her pantry, flinging open the double doors, and grabbing blindly for the items inside.
With her arms full, she began depositing things into the garbage. Cookies, chips, candy, all of it, all of the things she loved most in the world, gone. All of it. And she didn’t miss any of it a single bit.
“Jules,” Eric finally spoke. “Jules, what are you doing? Come on.” He walked over to the garbage can and retrieved an unopened box of cereal. “Come on, you love this stuff.”
“No,” she breathed as she left the pantry and crossed to the refrigerator. “This stuff hurts you. And if this hurts you, it hurts me. I don’t need this shit, anyway. I mean, who really needs this shit? Nobody does.”
As she emptied the contents of her refrigerator, Eric came and held the door open for her. “Stop this,” he said quietly. “I mean it.”
“No. No, I don’t want you to hurt. I’m tired of you hurting. Between this…this food and your father and…and I know that I do nothing but hurt you and, for once, Eric, I can do something to help you. I can do something that won’t hurt you—“
“Jules!” He finally barked, the volume in his voice forcing her to pause in place. “Stop it. I mean it. I don’t want you to give all this up. I want you to enjoy the things you love—“
Without thinking, her hand reached up and struck him across his beautiful face. “Get a clue, Eric!”
His eyes widened and his face reddened and, in that moment, Juliet knew she’d made a mistake. She gasped and she shook her head as she took a step backward, closing the refrigerator door behind her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so—“
But he didn’t let her finish. The wildness in his eyes was the last thing she saw before his hands reached out for her and grabbed her forcefully by the shoulders, crashing his lips down onto hers. The action took her by surprise, but she gave into him instantly, whimpering inside his mouth with want as his arms snaked tightly around her body and pressed her against him.
As she slid her arms around his neck, desperate for more, his hands drifted down her back and he leaned down and lifted her off the floor, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Turning around, he deposited her onto the island’s white countertop, and his mouth continued to deeply devour her, his tongue eagerly exploring every depth of her mouth that it could find. One hand pressed into her back while the other one tangled itself into her hair and, for a moment, she realized that he nearly suffocated her with his kiss and she was too intoxicated from it to care. He could suffocate her with his kiss until there was no life left in her if that was what he wanted. His kiss was everything; it was everything life had ever been about. She would never get enough of it.
The moment was over too soon, however, as she’d gripped his collar to pull him closer and he, in response, broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, letting his eyes fall shut. “Jules,” he whispered. “Not tonight.”
“What?” She asked, startled. Was Eric turning down sex? Denying it? Was he…was he feeling all right?
“Not…I mean, fuck. You know I want you, don’t you? All the fucking time, it never stops, but I just…I just need you tonight. Okay? Just…” He let out a breath and he closed his eyes again, as if mustering up the courage to form the words. “Just hold me tonight?”
She wanted to cry. The tears were already springing to her eyes. But she forced them down with a swallow as she nodded and took his face in her hands. “Okay,” she agreed. “Anything you need.”
ERIC WAS IN heaven.
There was a nagging part of him that knew he shouldn’t be allowing any of this night to happen, but he couldn’t help himself. It was her, it was the way she felt and the way he felt when he was with her. When he was with Juliet, everything was right in the world. Everything was warm, everything was comfortable, everything was perfect. Everything was home. No one had ever made him feel that way before.
Alan had been right when he’d warned Eric that he couldn’t keep his illness a secret for long. In the back of his mind, he’d known that he couldn’t. He was afraid of what would happen if Juliet knew. She was already broken as it was—she didn’t need a man who was broken, too. She needed someone strong and steady, someone she could feel secure in leaning on. Was that who Eric was? Eric, with his bad eyes and his sugar intolerance and his inability to keep his own life together? How could she lean on him if every step he took seemed to send him tumbling?
Juliet was right to be angry at him when he finally revealed himself to her, right to strike him the way she had. Never in his life had any sort of inflicted pain felt so strong, felt so good. He felt the caring and the concern in the aftermath on his cheek. He saw the look in her eyes, the fear that she could lose him—and then he’d lost all sense of control and he’d kissed her.
And now he lay there, draped across her couch, nestled in the tenderness of her arms.
Dinner had gone over well. Eric was proud of himself. They sat at the island in the kitchen and enjoyed their dinner together, sipping water and discussing the definition of a proper diet. Eric had figured that chicken and vegetables had been a good place to start and Juliet didn’t object, instead gushing over it with every bite she took. He had no way of knowing if she was exaggerating or not, but this was the second time he’d cooked for her and she seemed to thoroughly enjoy herself. Maybe, for his next career, he was meant to be a chef…
“Eric,” Juliet breathed quietly into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. She lay underneath him, her back propped against the couch’s arm, and he rested comfortably against her chest as her feet wrapped around and rested lightly on his thighs and her arms hugged his neck and his shoulders. One of her hands grazed softly through his hair and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. “Does it hurt?”
His eyes snapped open. “Does what hurt?”
“You know, the…the injections. Do you ever get used to it?”
Eric let out a breath and he tried to focus on the way her other arm tightened around him. “Uh, can we, uh…you know, you never did tell me how your therapy session went.”
“It was therapy,” she deadpanned.
“And?”
“And that’s it.”
“Jules, come on.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she insisted. Then her voice softened. “I want to talk about you.”
“You want to pity me,” he muttered.
“Ooh,” she teased. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Look whose tables are turned now.”
“I never pitied you.”
“You sure about that?”
Finally, he let out a breath. “Look. You’re a smart woman. It’s human nature to, on some level, feel sorry for someone when they hear a sad story about them. It’s almost a reflex. So, yeah, when you first told me, the first thing I thought was ‘poor Juliet.’ Wouldn’t you, if you were in my position?”
“No,” she huffed.
“Oh, really?” He challenged. “So you’re saying that the very first thing that crossed your mind when I told you I was diabetic wasn’t ‘Oh, Eric, you poor thing?’”
“Oh, of course it was,” she snapped.
“And there you have it,” he smiled triumphantly. “We’re just sitting here, having ourselves a nice little pity party, aren’t we?”
“I hate you sometimes,” she pouted.
“You wish you hated me sometimes,” he retorted. “But you can’t because I’m adorable. You don’t have to say it, I already know.”
Her hand left his hair and joined the other one around his neck. Then they drifted to his chest and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and she slid her hand inside. Her fingernails lightly grazed over the light peppering of near-invisible hair and she purred in his ear. “You’re adorable. Sometimes. But the reality is, you are absolutely the sexiest man I have ever met in my entire life. So completely irresistible.”
Her lips swept across his cheek and her breath caused every nerve ending in his body to go into convulsions. Her hand inside his shirt nearly sent him into shock.
But then he remembered his conversation with Alan and he sighed, taking Juliet’s wrist and pulling it out of her shirt. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips before he let his head fall back against her. “Give me another month and see how sexy I am, then.”
“What does that mean?” She whispered in concern.
“It means that my doctor says I have to take it easy on the lifting. Hope you like ‘em skinny because he wants me to maintain instead of build. Something about the strength training screwing with my insulin levels and, well, since you know how well insulin and I seem to get along, he figures it’s best that I not poke the proverbial beast. I can maintain a ‘healthy, athletic build,’ he says. Please. Nobody wants that shit.”
“But I want that shit,” she replied softly into his ear. She tightened her arms around him. “I want you healthy, that’s all I care about. I don’t care if you’re lean or built or whatever you are. It doesn’t change the man that you are. It doesn’t make me feel any different for you. You’re just you. And that’s what I want.”
Her words sent his heart soaring and he ran his hands down her thighs and hugged both of her knees to his sides. “Jules. I’ve never…been able to talk to anyone the way I can talk to you. Sometimes not even Travis. I don’t ever want this feeling to go away.”
“I feel the same. You’re my best friend.”
“Then, what…what is this? What are we doing here?”
“We’re doing…us?”
“This is what we do? We lay here and we torture ourselves. We kiss and we hold each other and behind closed doors we belong to each other, but once the morning comes…we don’t exist anymore?”
“Eric, I’m scared. You can reassure me all day long, but in my heart, I’m terrified. Because I know me. I’m scared that if we jump into this too early, I’ll…I don’t want to end it before it starts.”
“You haven’t even given it a chance—“
“Uh, yes I have. Remember? And I fucking flaked out at the first sight of your family. I’m not ready for that, yet, Eric. I’m just not.”
“So, then…what? This, then? Secret rendezvous at your convenience while I sit, waiting by the phone?”
Her body went rigid underneath him. “Um, if you recall, I answered when you called tonight. And now here you are. That wasn’t very fair to say, was it?” She paused and she huffed, wiggling her body in adjustment underneath him. “Someone’s had their grumpy pills today.”
He smiled and shook his head lightly. “No, I’m not…I just want you. That’s all. I want to date you. I want to do all the cliché romantic things like men are supposed to do. I want to wine and dine you and take you to the theatre and show you off at fancy galas—“
Juliet giggled. “You are not the ‘fancy gala’ kind of guy.”
“I could be,” he argued. “If I had the right woman. Which I did, by the way, have the right woman. At a fancy gala. Except that she didn’t know it, yet, and she ran from me, but whatever, I had her and I’m claiming that. So your argument holds no water.”
Her giggle turned into a laugh and it warmed Eric’s heart. He cursed himself for bringing up the subject of being together, as he allowed his impatience to overtake him, but she had been so good about his diabetes that he felt like he at least owed it to her to respect her wishes and slow down a little. Which was why, despite her advances, he didn’t try to stay over that night.
Interrupting his thoughts, Juliet said, “So Travis came by my office today.”
Eric tensed up immediately. Travis had already opened his mouth one too many times to her on Thanksgiving and Eric was still a little miffed at him over it.
Juliet must have felt the change in his body because she slid her hands up his arms and squeezed his shoulders. “Relax. Everything is fine.”
“Yeah? Because if I recall, the last time he came face-to-face with you—“
“It was a good meeting,” she assured him warmly. “He apologized and there are no hard feelings. I think we realized some things about each other and we’ve come to an understanding.” She paused and chuckled, her laugh music to his ears. “I think we’re both very protective of you.”
He was struck dumb for a moment. “You? Protective of me?”
“Of course. Well—maybe possessive is a better word.”
“Possessive?”
“Well…defensive?”
“I’m not really sure how I should feel right now…”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered her head, pressing her cheek against his temple. “There are a lot of people in your life who care very much about you.”
He turned his head to where he could feel her breath on his face. “Is that so?”
“Always,” she whispered.
“That goes both ways, you know.”
She let out a breath and she leaned back against the couch’s arm again. “Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but I had an amazing celebratory lunch today with the realtor. We’re closing on the building Wednesday!”
Eric grinned, reaching up to his neck and squeezing her hands. “Yeah? That’s amazing, it’s about time!”
“I know, right? Anyway, I scheduled a meeting for us in my office for Friday. Full project meeting, your staff, my staff—“
He sucked in a breath. “Ooh. Friday?”
“Yes. Friday morning. Travis said he thought everyone’s schedules were clear.”
“They are. They are. I think. I just—I was just thinking. I have a few conference calls this week and they’re overseas so I’ll be in the office late a couple of nights—Thursday, definitely.”
“Overseas? Wow, that’s…that’s amazing. But how are you going to get--?”
“It’s more like consulting. I guess…”
“Oh. So you’re a construction company and a consulting firm.”
“Well…no…” He shook his head. “It just kind of…happened. I don’t know. I was approached by a guy from Japan who was here on a business last week. Said he’s real impressed with our work and started, like, interrogating me. Next thing I know, he’s offering to pay Reynolds Construction to help guide his company through a chain of apartment buildings they’re trying to put up. Apparently there have been problems in the past, I don’t know. Recovering company, I think. Anyway, I don’t know…maybe someday we could officially branch out into consulting. I’d have to think about it…”
She pressed her lips softly against his temple. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve done incredible things with that company since you took it over.”
“You—you think so? How would you know--?”
“Because I researched you before I had to come crawling back, remember?” She laughed. “It’s like a completely different company since you took it over, it seems. You’re growing and you’re expanding and you’re going places. You really are something remarkable, I wonder if you don’t give yourself enough credit sometimes.”
Eric nestled his back deeper into her and he gazed across the room and out the window at the city. He couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. It was a bittersweet moment, being so incredibly flattered and touched by the way Juliet regarded him, but the knot in the pit of his stomach didn’t seem to want to go away. He never wanted this moment, or this night, to end. This could be their lives so easily. They could both come home after a long day at work and have dinner and relax and talk for hours just like they did now. And then they’d go to bed and he would make love to her and they would sleep in each other’s arms, night after night, without a worry or a care in the world. There was no safer place for either of them than in each other’s arms, Eric was convinced of it.
If only he could convince Juliet of it, too.
SANDRA MURPHY WASN’T used to visitors on Sundays.
Especially when they came in the form of handsome young men.
She blinked her gray eyes at him as he stood on the front porch, wrapped up in a heavy, dark blue coat with a hood lined in faux fur. His hands were jammed in his pockets and his nose and cheeks were kissed by the chilly air.
“Um, may I help you?” She asked him.
“I know this seems weird,” he began. His blue eyes were kind and she was momentarily distracted by the small strand of his short, blonde hair that lifted with the light breeze above his forehead. “But I was, uh, I was passing by and I noticed…uh, I noticed that your fence…your fence badly needs to be replaced. The wooden one. The picket—“
“I know which fence you’re referring to,” she interrupted him with a huff. She was instantly annoyed. She already knew what was coming next, so she chose to nip it in the bud before he even finished his pitch. “We are a non-profit organization—“ Then her eyes landed on the silver Rolex that peeked out between his sleeve and his coat pocket. She stammered. “And we, um…”
He smiled. “Well, that’s perfect. Because I happen to be the CEO of a very prominent construction company, with more than the means to take care of every repair on this property and then some.”
“I see…”
“Also, it’s pretty cold out here.”
Her eyes widened. “Of course! Forgive me, please. Come in.”
She held the door for him and he stepped in past her, his Rolex-clad wrist coming out of his pocket and flipping over a business card toward her. “Eric Reynolds, Reynolds Construction. Lovely home.”
“We try to make it as lovely as we possibly can for the children,” Sandra replied, looking over the card as she closed the door behind him.
She looked up at him as his arm extended and he nodded at something behind her. “Banister on that staircase is looking a little loose, there.”
“Why, yes, um—“
“It would be unfortunate if it gave way under the weight of one of those children.”
“It would, yes, um—“ And then her eyes widened. “Did the state send you? Did someone report us?”
Finally, his alarm matched hers. “What?”
“Is this a surprise inspection? Because that banister has only been loose for—“
“No,” he replied, shaking his head rapidly. “No, I’m not anybody like that, I’m just—I just want to help. Seriously. That’s it.”
She studied him as she shifted her weight from one white sneaker to the other. “All right, then. So how did you end up here, of all the places you could randomly choose to be helping?”
He smiled and he winked at her. “Let’s just say I know somebody who knows somebody. As a matter of fact,” he paused, reaching into the inside of the breast of his coat. He pulled out a Tablet and waved it in front of her. “I’ve put together a plan. A list of ideas, maybe. I’d like to go over them with you, if you don’t mind. That is, do I…do I have the correct person?”
“Yes,” she replied warily. “Yes, I’m Sandra Murphy, this is my facility.”
“I assume you have an office, then, Ms. Murphy?”
“I do.”
“Can you spare me a few minutes of your precious time?”
She swallowed a lump and let out a breath. “Of course. Right this way.”
* * *
Two hours later, The Loving Care Home for Children had a new benefactor, along with an alarmingly generous donation. They also had a schedule of repairs to be completed, a plan for a brand new playground, and some hopeful ideas for new intramural and tutoring programs for the children. All at the hands of this mysterious Eric Reynolds.
“Wonderful,” he grinned as he slipped his Tablet back into his coat. “This is just wonderful. I’m excited to get started. In the meantime, would you mind forwarding me the children’s Christmas lists?”
She gaped at him. “All of them?”
“Yes,” he replied simply. “All of them. All my information is there, work and personal. Feel free to call me anytime, day or night.”
As he stood, she stood with him from the opposite side of her desk. “Mr. Reynolds, I must ask again…why? You came to us, seemingly out of nowhere and…and this just…it all just seems too good to be true.”
He grinned and he shrugged a shoulder. “I just want to help. We’ll be in touch. Often.” And then he winked and he walked out the door.
Without a single write off form or charity receipt in hand.
JULIET’S EYELASHES FLUTTERED in surprise as Jason Kamealoha’s towering height lingered in her office doorway the following Monday. His smile could have lit up the entire building.
“Um, uh, Jason,” she stammered. “This is an unexpected surprise.”
“This is an impromptu date,” he grinned, rocking back on his heels.
“Excuse me?”
“A celebratory lunch break. You break now, right?”
“In a few minutes, yes…”
“Awesome. Then I’ll wait.”
She watched the long, gray overcoat as it helped itself to one of the white, upholstered chairs on the opposite side of her desk. She stared at Jason’s sparkling green eyes for a moment, reviewing what he’d said, and then her breath caught in her throat. “Jason?” She fought the smile that threatened to creep across her lips. “What, exactly, are we celebrating?”
He nodded. “You know exactly what we’re celebrating. Because I’m your man.”
Her smile finally widened. “Am I buying a building?”
“You’re buying a building!”
“Yes!” Her arms flew up into the air in victory as she pushed her chair away from her desk. The chair spun a little as she celebrated. “Finally! Finally, Jason! God, if you only knew how long we’ve been going through this—“
He chuckled and he nodded gleefully. “I told you I had you, didn’t I? I told you I was your guy.”
Finally, she smiled and she nodded at him. “Yes. Yes, you are absolutely my guy. Thank you so much, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
He sat back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Not even an issue,” he smiled. Then he popped his collar. “That commission alone is going to be sa-weet.”
Juliet giggled and threw a balled-up sheet of copy paper at him. “So when’s the date?”
“Uh, right now. Didn’t we already establish--?
“No!” She laughed again. “The closing date.”
“Oh. Yeah. Wide open. Whenever you want.”
She arched a testing eyebrow. “Today?”
He scowled at her and hung his head to the side. “Jules,” he deadpanned. “Be realistic.”
“Tomorrow? Wednesday?”
“Wednesday seems reasonable.”
“Wonderful,” her voice trailed as she let her mind get lost in thought. “Then I can go ahead and schedule a meeting with Reynolds for the teardown on Friday…”
“Jules,” Jason’s bass interrupted her. “I’m hungry.”
“Oh!” She exclaimed, snapping out of her trance. “Is it twelve?”
“Twelve oh three,” he corrected, glancing up from his phone. “You won’t like me when I’m hungry.”
Juliet rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Some things never change.”
AS TRAVIS STEPPED onto the elevator, Jason Kamealoha was stepping off of it. “Hey!” The towering Hawaiian greeted him with a smile. “What’s up?”
“Not much,” Travis replied. He’d met Jason at a group dinner recently where he’d been invited at Beth’s insistence. He was a cool guy and they’d found that they had a few things in common. It hadn’t taken long before Travis decided that the guy could hang. But now the way Jason looked at him was beginning to rub him the wrong way.
“Lunch with Beth?” Jason asked.
“No,” Travis replied.
“Hm,” Jason nodded. “Well, it was good seeing you again. Later, man.”
“Yeah. Later.”
As the elevator doors closed, Travis looked himself over on one of the mirrored walls. He slid his hands over his slick, blonde hair, letting one of them trail to the end of his ponytail. What was Jason looking at? Was it the hair? The last time Jason saw him, Travis’s hair was its normal, unruly self. Was it the suit? The coat? The scarf? The last time Jason saw him, Travis had donned a casual tee shirt and jeans. He knew Travis worked in construction. Was he puzzled by his clean appearance? Maybe. He supposed he might be able to see Jason’s confusion.
Speaking of confusion, what had Jason been doing at Carson Innovations, anyway?
Stepping off of the elevator, he suppressed the smirk that tried to fight its way across his lips as the new receptionist, Ann, turned beet red upon sight of him. He was aware of his effect on women. He’d used it to his advantage for many years. And though he was strictly a one-woman man now, the flattery never grew old.
“Hey, Annie,” he purred.
“Hi, Mr. Reynolds,” the redhead swooned from behind her glasses.
“Annie. We’ve talked about this. Call me Travis.” Then he sauntered past the desk and glanced down the hallway to his right. “Juliet in?”
He didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he helped himself on the pathway to her office, amidst the Zen wall fountain and the bamboo plants. “Mr. Reynolds!” Ann called after him. “Mr. Reynolds, I have to call Miss Carson—“
But he was already opening the door to her office.
When he walked in, Juliet was all smiles as she held the black phone receiver to her ear and twisted her chair from side to side. She twirled the cord around her fingers as she spoke. “Oh, that’s wonderful! It will be a full meeting just like the last one, but it’ll be held here this time. I’ll take care of the details and you handle the scheduling…No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, you’re his receptionist, aren’t you?” Finally, Juliet’s eyes met Travis’s and her face went pale. “You know what?” She continued into the phone. “Never mind about the scheduling. It appears that another one of your superiors has found his way into my office. I’m sure I can continue this conversation with him. You’ve been most helpful, Hilary, thank you so much.”
When Juliet hung up the phone, her eyes fell onto her desk and she fumbled around with her paperwork. For the first time since he’d met her, she appeared nervous. Or was that…hurt in her eyes?
Damn. Travis hated this shit.
He cleared his own nervous lump from his throat. “So. You were on the phone with my office.”
“Yes,” she murmured quietly, avoiding his eyes. “We’re closing on the building on Wednesday and I’ve scheduled a meeting for Friday. Your receptionist assured me that all schedules would be open for it.”
“Uh, yeah,” he replied, taking a couple more cautious steps into the room. “Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem, we’re as anxious to get started as you are. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“Juliet,” he began quietly. Then he paused to close the door.
“Leave it open,” she barked suddenly, finally lifting her eyes from her desk. “Eric always closes the door and my staff is already getting suspicious.”
“Uh, right.”
Pulling the door back open, Travis sauntered a few more steps into the room, shoving his hands in his pockets. Juliet’s office was light, bright, and modern and her white business suit reflected it. Her dark waves were pinned loosely off of her shoulders and Travis had to admit that he’d never taken the time to appreciate just how striking she was. He could see why Eric couldn’t stay away.
“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now,” he continued carefully.
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Because from what I could gather, the sentiment is vice versa.”
Travis dropped his head in guilt. “Um, that’s not…that’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. You don’t have to pretend. I’m the Big Bad Wolf that you feel the need to protect your brother from. Ironically enough, I get it.”
“Juliet,” Travis breathed. “Beth, um…Beth told me. You know, about you.”
Suddenly, her eyes darted into his. “I don’t need your pity,” she spat. “I don’t need anyone’s pity.”
“I didn’t come here for that,” he argued. “I came here to apologize for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.”
“Yeah? After you were told my pathetic story. I think I liked it better when you thought I was screwing your brother over for the fun of it.”
“Okay, yeah,” he finally shot back. “I worry about Eric. Okay? I always have. He’s my brother. He’s vulnerable and he’s—“
“He’s a lot stronger than you give him credit for,” she snapped. “He knows details. Gory details of my sordid past and he didn’t run. Either that or pity runs deep in the Reynolds blood.”
“Are you always this difficult to talk to?”
“What did you think was going to happen here, Travis? That you were going to come in here and deliver some half-assed apology just to appease Beth? And that I would just forget the hate and the contempt in your voice when you spoke to me the other night? Admit it, Travis. You were ready to write me off as the common whore I’ve been made out to be until you heard that I got beat up on a little and now you feel sorry for me.”
Travis opened his mouth to speak, but Juliet wasn’t finished. “Everything that I feel for Eric is real. He and I speak, there’s nothing lost on him. I haven’t lied to him or deceived him and everything that exists between us is just that—between us. I understand your concern for your brother. He’s lucky to have you look out for him. But he’s a grown man. And you should be focusing more on your relationship with my best friend.”
Travis’s jaw dropped and he was left momentarily speechless. In an effort to collect his thoughts, he removed his coat and settled himself into one of the chairs at her desk, draping it across the adjacent one.
“Sure, go ahead, make yourself at home,” she murmured as she slid a pair of glasses onto her face and went back to sorting through her paperwork.
“I’m not leaving here until you and I are on better terms. And it’s raining outside, so I don’t have a worksite to be on today. I have all the time in the world.”
With that, he sat back in the chair and crossed his ankle comfortably over his knee.
Juliet scoffed and shook her head. “I swear, the both of you are exactly alike.”
“Well,” he smirked. “We are identical twins, you know.”
She glanced up at him and her nostrils flared in frustration. Finally, she removed her glasses and she pressed a button on the phone. “Ann. Would you please come and shut my door?”
Travis suppressed a laugh. “Do you have staff or servants?”
Juliet glared at him. “In light of recent—and past—events, I feel the need to be careful of the way things operate in my office. Every little detail counts, including who’s closing what door. I know you’ve seen all the lovely headlines. I’d like to not add to them. I’ve already lost a staff member to one of your competitors and I’d rather not take chances. My professional reputation is already on thin ice. Surely you can appreciate that.”
Travis nodded, running his fingers across his lips. He had a feeling that before this was over, he would choke to death on his own foot.
He let out a breath. “Look. Juliet. Can we just cut it out with the formalities? I’m not here on business. I have a feeling that…I don’t know, somewhere down the line, in some way, shape, or form, we’re linked for life. Okay? You and I—we both love people who mean the world to each of us—“
She arched an eyebrow.
“We do,” he clarified. “And it would make everyone’s lives a lot easier if said loved ones didn’t…feel like they were caught in the middle of any kind of animosity.”
“For the record,” she replied, her voice softening. “I’ve never felt any animosity toward you. You’re good to Beth and you’re a great brother to Eric. So I feel like what you’re referring to is that any kinds of feelings of…apprehension might be what Beth and Eric are feeling toward you. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
“Well, no, it fucking kills me to watch Beth feel torn between whatever fucked up bullshit you and Eric have going on,” he spouted off uncontrollably.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” she said suddenly. “I appreciate the effort, but let’s just agree to disagr—“
“Wait,” he sighed. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”
“You don’t like me—“
“That’s not true—“
“And that’s fine. But Eric is the first man who’s ever made me feel human. He makes me feel like I matter. I can talk to him about everything and I adore him in ways that I don’t even understand, yet. But if I decide that I want to be healthy before I allow any commitments to be made, if I decide that I want to spare him and ensure his happiness? That’s my business. And his. You can take it or leave it. Nobody said that ‘whatever fucked up bullshit Eric and I have going on’ was going to be easy. But I do think that he and I at least deserve the respect and the trust to see it through. And if it’s too difficult for you or Beth to allow either one of us to lean on you for any kind of support, please feel free to let us know. Spare us. Or at least spare him.”
Travis closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re right,” he conceded. “You’re absolutely right. I admit, I’ve been unfairly judgmental and presumptuous. I apologize. But you have to also understand that Eric and I shared a womb. We’re quite literally carbon copies of each other. We’re connected in ways that normal siblings could only understand on a fraction of a level. I feel everything he feels and he feels everything that I feel. You know, mostly. I’ve been looking out for him our entire lives. He’s been through some things…he scares me sometimes, Jules. He really does. And I don’t mean to sound like I’m laying the blame directly on you for anything, but sometimes I get so angry with no place to displace it. I’m wrong for that and I know it. But Eric is my number one priority and my number one instinct is to always eliminate the things that hurt him. Please understand that half the things that come out of my mouth aren’t personal.”
To his surprise, she stared back at him, blinking away tears that had begun to brim her eyes. Her nose and cheeks were developing a pink hue. “So I’ve hurt him.”
“Juliet—“
“And the only way to spare him is for me to exit the picture.”
“That’s not—that’s not what I’m saying.”
But her voice cracked and the red on her face deepened. “I don’t want to hurt him. I care about him. I only want what’s best for him. What’s—? Is that what’s best for him?”
Travis took a deep breath. “That’s not really—I mean, you said so, yourself, he’s a grown man. That’s…that’s not really my call to make.”
She swallowed visibly and her eyes darted around in thought. Her chest heaved with breath and Travis straightened up in his seat out of concern for her. “Jules? Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“You make him happy,” he replied gently. “That much, I know.”
“I don’t understand how…”
“Does anybody really understand how any of this works?” He scoffed. “I mean, how does someone as classy and sophisticated as Beth end up falling for a bum like me? You know?”
“You’re not a bum,” Juliet shook her head through her tears.
“Sure, I am. I’ve done nothing but fuck around and fly by the seat of my pants my entire life. Everything came easy, everything was a party. Women came and went, they were…” His voice trailed off as he stared into her waiting eyes. “Well, shit.”
“What?” She asked, alarmed.
“Commitment is scary as fuck, isn’t it?”
Juliet nodded.
“I mean, you drift through life, afraid to lose control of yourself and get tied down for whatever fucked up reason and then you meet someone who literally takes the life right out of your chest against your will and…and you allow it. And you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, but you know you’ve never felt anything like it and you don’t want it to end, but…you live your life on eggshells every single day, deathly afraid of fucking it up with one wrong move…so you do whatever you feel is necessary to hold onto it.” He stopped and he looked into Juliet’s eyes, as wide and as innocent as he’d ever seen them before, and the realization hit him like a freight train. “I’ve had you all wrong this entire time,” he whispered. “I am so sorry.” Then he cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat. “Look, don’t go telling anyone about this sappy-ass shit, okay? I’m only…you know, I might need you someday. You know, because of Beth and stuff. You’re like sisters, right?”
Juliet nodded again.
“Juliet,” he said again with startling realization. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes blinked rapidly as if she’d just been shaken from a trance and her flustered expression replied, “I heard you.”
He cleared his throat and pulled on his shirt collar. “So, um, I mean, are we cool? You know, bygones and shit? I mean, you know, if you need to yell at me or cuss me or whatever, that’s totally cool. I’m right here. I get it.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said quietly. “No, I just…it’s fine, I just need to think about some things, that’s all.”
“You can’t listen to half the shit I say. I mean, half the time I don’t even know what the hell I’m talking about. Hey,” he said anxiously. Suddenly he realized that he was afraid. He was afraid that he’d said too much and had possibly driven the nail in the coffin of any chance at a future with this woman that his brother might have. Travis never realized how skittish and vulnerable Juliet was until he was face-to-face with her in a situation such as this one. “We got a meeting coming up, right? You wanna talk about that? I mean, I’m here, I can do everything Eric can do. Right?”
Juliet’s rigid shoulders rose and fell as she sucked in a deep breath and plastered a painfully fake smile across her face as she took a pen in her hand. “Yes,” she replied breathlessly. “That, um, that sounds like a good idea. Do you need a pad of paper? Since you’re…you know, empty-handed?”
“Yeah,” he accepted quickly. “Yeah, please, let’s, uh, let’s get this started.”
Travis had never been more uncomfortable in his life. If he’d learned anything that day, however, it was to not be so quick to judge, learn to let Eric fly on his own, and never take Beth for granted. As a matter of fact, as soon as he left that office, Beth would be treated like a queen that night. Didn’t he owe her a pedicure, anyway…?
“YOU’RE BUILDING TOO much muscle.”
Eric sat on the table in his doctor’s office, hating his own life. His doctor, Dr. Alan Kiminsky, was in his late thirties and had been his doctor for the past five or six years now. After they’d bumped into each other at a few parties outside of the medical center, Eric and Alan had gone for beers together on a few occasions. Alan was a cool guy, someone the ladies couldn’t keep their eyes off of with his short-cropped, light-brown hair and light green eyes, topped off with lady-killer dimples, and was hopelessly devoted to his wife, Carlotta, an Italian goddess whom he’d met in college. Carlotta was currently very pregnant with their first child and Eric had planned to come in and inquire about her pregnancy in order to keep most of Alan’s attention off of him, but the attempt was futile. Sure, they could share a casual beer together, but his profession was something that Alan didn’t take lightly—or sugarcoat.
The closing statement after his physical instantly annoyed Eric. “Bullshit.”
“And that, right there, is your problem,” Alan pointed his pen at him.
“What? That I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as the puny little shit I was growing up?”
Eric looked him over, disgusted by his sudden professionalism and his white lab coat. Who the hell did Alan think he was, anyway? Eric’s doctor?
Oh, yeah. He was.
“You’re hardly puny, Eric,” Alan assured him.
Eric scoffed. “I could be bigger.”
Alan shook his head, tapping on the back of his clipboard. “No, you really can’t. You can maintain a healthy, athletic build—“
Eric was growing anxious. “Well, what about Travis? We’re practically fucking clones! He could fucking eat me alive!”
“Because he takes care of himself the way he’s supposed to.”
“I take care of myself.”
“Sure,” Alan nodded. “That’s why you ended up in the ER and why you’re sitting in front of me for the follow up.”
“Well, I’m sorry I wasted your time,” Eric sneered. “I’m fine.”
“We should review your treatment—“
“My treatment is fine. I know what I’m doing! I know how to take care of myself, my muscle mass is fine—“
“Okay, then,” Alan said, tossing the clipboard onto the table behind him. “You’re the boss, right? You have the degree--?”
“I know my body,” Eric glared.
“You know what?” Alan conceded. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Just let me make the proper adjustments to your medication so that you can turn yourself into the Incredible Hulk. That’ll be shooting up twice a day instead of once…”
“What?”
“You want healthy or do you want hulky?”
Eric sighed in defeat, running his hand through his hair.
Alan smirked in triumph. “That’s what I thought. More cardio, more toning, less building. Got it? I want to see you again in a month.”
“What else is new?” Eric murmured.
As Alan picked the clipboard back up and began jotting on it, he asked nonchalantly, “So how are things otherwise?”
The question caught Eric off guard and he hesitated as he wiped his palms on his jeans. “Otherwise?”
“Yeah. Otherwise. You know, maybe the reason why you spaced out and landed in the ER to begin with.”
Eric let out a breath and looked Alan over. The difference between Alan and the rest of his friends was that Alan was his doctor. He’d seen Eric’s body inside and out, poked and prodded, and discussed issues that he would never, in a million years, discuss with the likes of Terrell or Barry or Jesse. Plus, Alan didn’t know any of them besides Travis, and he came equipped with that handy little patient confidentiality deal that would get him sued if he ever blabbed to anyone. That made him safe.
So Eric came out with it. “There’s this woman—“
“Juliet Carson?”
Eric’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”
“It’s all over the place. Well, your picture is, anyway. You know that woman can’t go anywhere in this city without being photographed.”
Eric was temporarily struck dumb. Since he’d begun seeing her, it never occurred to Eric to Google anything about her anymore. He supposed that in his mind, since she wasn’t dating around and seeing other men, nobody was talking about her. How could he have been so stupid? Of course they were still talking about her. Except now, apparently, they were whispering about her one man instead of many. Eric swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and he fought the urge to whip his phone out of his pocket. No. It didn’t matter what anyone said or where they’d been seen or what the speculations were. Eric and Juliet knew the absolute truth. And that was all he needed.
Well. They almost knew the absolute truth.
“Anyway,” Eric breathed. “Yeah. So…she’s incredible. She’s everything I ever…she understands all my bullshit. You know? She gets me. But she’s a strong woman and a woman like her needs a man who is equally as strong, someone who can handle her—“
Alan cut him off. “So you’re saying that she doesn’t know about this whole…situation, yet.”
“On one hand I feel like an asshole because she spilled her guts and told me everything. There is absolutely nothing I don’t know about that woman. And she—she knows me, except…you know? I’m too ashamed to tell her, I don’t want her to see me as some…helpless invalid. That’s not the person I want to be, I don’t want…this.”
“Eric,” Alan replied, his voice softening. “This is…this is your life. Whether you want it or not, you’re stuck with it. It’s not going away. It’s a big deal, it’s not really something you can hide. Especially not from someone you care about. I mean, do you…do you intend to share a life with this woman?”
Eric glanced up at Alan shamefully as he fidgeted with his thumbs in his lap. “I want to.”
“Then you especially know you can’t hide it. She won’t see you as any less of a man, if that’s what the trouble is.”
“She’s already older than me,” he pouted. “I don’t need one more reason to be viewed as younger. Or weaker.”
“But you have to take care of yourself. If you’re trying to keep this from her, that’s your business, I’m not going to pry. If you really want to keep it from her, then taking care of yourself properly is the only way you’re going to get by with it. What happens if you’re with her and this happens again? Your cover will definitely be blown then. And what happens if your brother’s on vacation or something and can’t rush to be at your side to participate in your little charade? Like I said, what you do in your personal life is none of my business. But I think you’re worrying for nothing.”
Eric let out a breath again and went over Alan’s words. He was right. Of course he was right. But Juliet was dealing with so much already, she didn’t need to worry about Eric, either. So he nodded and he stood up off the table. “Okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll deal with it.”
“Okay,” Alan nodded again. “So, it looks like we’re done here today. I’ll see you in a month. You know, unless you want grab lunch or drinks or something sometime.”
“Oh, yeah, how’s Carlotta doing?”
“Well…maybe dinner at my place, then. Carlotta is…very pregnant. I freak out every time she calls.”
The two men chuckled and Eric smiled as he headed for the door. “Well, send her my best, then.”
“Will do.”
Ten minutes later, Eric was sitting in traffic on his way home. He had left work early to make this appointment and now all he wanted to do was talk to Juliet. He picked up his phone and looked at it, his lock screen still adorned by his favorite picture of her, and he sighed. He unlocked it, pulled up her number, and hit the button to call and held his breath.
All the while knowing that he wouldn’t get an answer.
JULIET SAT ON her couch, curled up in the corner of it, in her sweats and her favorite socks, sipping on a glass of wine. She had come straight home after work, not feeling like stopping anywhere, not to pick up groceries or dry cleaning or any of it. She was tired. The day had been long, exhausting, and bittersweet.
Walking into a large, quiet apartment should have been soothing but, instead, she only felt emptiness. And the sharp pang of loneliness. And she wanted so badly to call Eric, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it to him. How could he allow her to lean on him so much when so much uncertainty hung in the air above her? How could she discuss her issues with therapy when she knew exactly what he was going to say about it? How many more times could she talk to him or look at him and not throw herself completely at his mercy? That was all she wanted in life, she was beginning to realize—to live in his arms and breathe in his scent. He was so addictive, so…intoxicating; so good and so kind. Why couldn’t she? Why couldn’t that be her life? It could be, it was right there waiting for her. But what had she done to deserve it? Who was she to think she deserved a man like Eric? Travis was right. Commitment was scary as fuck.
The television played the news and several lamps glowed dimly around her apartment. Her home was cozy, she could at least take comfort in that. Beneath her, a small Persian rug held up her antique coffee table, which stayed littered with the latest fashion and interior design magazines. But she wasn’t concentrating on the daily goings-on in Manhattan or the inventory in her home. Instead, she sipped her drink mindlessly and waited for the doorbell to ring.
After a few minutes, her doorbell didn’t ring, but her phone did. Glancing at it in her hand, she saw Eric’s name on the screen. She swallowed nervously. She hadn’t spoken to him since their texts the past Friday night and she’d been trying to decide how to deal with her therapy situation. She still had no answer and time was passing.
And seeing Eric’s name yanked the heartstrings right out of her chest.
So she swiped to answer. “Hey,” she said quietly.
“Hey,” he breathed in surprise. “I wasn’t, uh…”
“I know,” she said sheepishly. “I’m not the easiest to reach, I know. Sometimes I don’t know how to…you know, deal, and I shut down.”
“Juliet, I need you.”
His tone startled her and her heart rate instantly rose. “Eric—“
“No,” he demanded, his voice shaky. “I need you. I’m here every single time you need me, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Be there for me.”
Juliet nodded for a moment before realizing that he couldn’t see her. “I’m here.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Um, nothing, I’m…I’m waiting on Chinese to be delivered. If you want to have dinner, we can share, there’s always so much—“
“Uh…well, can’t you cancel it? Cancel it and…and let me cook. I’ll make dinner, I just have to stop by the store—“
“But it’s—it’s already en route, I don’t understand—“
“So save it for tomorrow or something, it’ll keep. Let me do this. I…I need to do this.”
She took a deep breath and she nodded again. “Okay.”
“I’ll be there in an hour. You don’t have to do anything, it’s nothing fancy. Keep your socks on and don’t lift a finger. Okay?”
Juliet smiled a closed-lipped smile and wiggled her toes gently. She loved the way he knew her. “Okay.”
“Trust me.”
“I do,” she whispered.
And she did. She would have lain her life in his hands and never thought twice about it. The thought scared her to death.
* * *
An hour and a half later, Eric was hard at work in Juliet’s kitchen. She’d barely had the opportunity to drink in how incredible he looked in his casual jeans and blue, plaid button-down before he breezed in, swept his lips across her cheek, and headed straight for the kitchen.
He’d barely remembered to remove his coat before he started unloading the groceries and she watched him in stunned silence before his first words to her had finally been, “You got one of those glass baking dishes? Like a casserole dish or whatever?”
Sitting her wine glass on the counter, she’d looked at him with concern. “Eric. Are you okay? What’s—what’s this all about? Do you need a drink? Beer, wine--?”
“Water’s fine,” he’d murmured as he went back to rummaging through her cabinets.
“Bottom of the island,” it had been her turn to murmur as she prepared a glass for him. She didn’t like the feeling she was getting in the pit of her stomach from all this. They’d known each other a short time and had been through a lot of shit already—but he seemed sincerely bothered and all Juliet wanted to do in the moment was hold him.
Was that even the right emotion to feel?
So now she stood and she watched as he cut up vegetables and seasoned a couple of chicken breasts before putting it all together in the casserole dish and sliding it into the oven. He only took a second to take a breath before he moved on to the dishes and, finally, Juliet felt the need to intervene.
“Eric,” she said gently, laying her hand over his wrist as he placed a dish in the sink. “I can get this later. Right now you’re scaring me. The only thing you’ve said to me in almost an hour involved a casserole dish.”
He didn’t look at her. Instead, he hung his head and leaned against the sink. “I’m sorry. I just—it’s been a long day. I had a doctor’s appointment and I just—“
Juliet’s breath caught in her throat and her hand let go of Eric’s as she took a step backward, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh, no. What did--? Is that what this is about? Are you sick?”
“No. Yes. Well, technically I am, but it’s not terminal. But if I don’t take care of myself…”
“Just say it already, will you?” Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard.
Finally, he turned and braced his hand against the countertop. “I’m diabetic,” he revealed quietly. “Very diabetic. Type one.”
She looked him over for a moment, taking in his words and wanting to nearly burst with joy at the fact that it wasn’t anything terminal. But she kept her composure. “Your doctor told you this today?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I’ve had it my entire life. Travis has it, too. He’s just…a little more diligent about it than I am.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “A little more diligent? Is that—is that why you got sick that night, why you practically ran from my apartment?”
“Yes,” he replied shamefully.
“Eric. You can’t—you can’t do that!”
“I know. I know, it’s just…so monotonous sometimes. I have to shoot insulin daily and count my carbs and keep a constant check on my blood sugar. There are so many numbers and counting and…it gets to be too much sometimes, I just…don’t want to do it anymore.”
“Well, you don’t have a choice,” she retorted forcefully.
The maternal tone that came from Juliet so suddenly was foreign to her. However, she was angry at him for keeping such a necessary secret from her that she blatantly disregarded the look of shock that flashed across his eyes before he turned back to the sink and turned on the water.
Shoving his sleeves up, he thrust his hands underneath the faucet. “Anyway, there it is,” he muttered.
“Oh,” she shot as she crossed her arms over her chest. “So there it is. That’s it, huh? There it is.”
He side-glanced at her before he began adjusting the dishes in the sink. He didn’t respond, but she could tell he was thinking about it, so she gave him a moment. She realized that this was the first time she’d ever scolded him like this and, while she felt bad for it, she didn’t feel bad enough because this was literally his life they were talking about. And that was a subject that she wasn’t willing to take lightly.
Finally, she reached over the sink and turned off the water and batted his hands away from the sink. When she wasn’t satisfied with the result, she grabbed him by the bicep and shoved him backward, forcing him to face her.
“Your diet is horrible,” she huffed. She could feel the heat rising to her face and, in response, Eric took a step backward. “All the grease and the sugar and salt and…and you let me feed you that ice cream…monstrosity!”
“Uh, actually, I—“
“I’m not finished! Then you come to my place and you pig out on cookies and you…you run out of here…and I don’t hear from you all night after you promised to call and I’m worried sick and the next day…you looked like shit! Like absolute shit, where were you, Eric? Where were you that night? Did you go to the hospital?”
“Yes,” he whispered guiltily.
“You spent the night in the hospital. That’s where you went.”
“I didn’t take my insulin that day—“
“And then you came to work on zero rest. And then you let me come over and we—well, fuck, Eric, did you bother to medicate yourself that day, either?”
“Yes!” His reply came with more force. “Yes, I did.”
“So what, then? So you just get to choose when you feel the need to spend a free night in the hospital? Is that it? ‘Oh, you know, I have a severe form of diabetes, but they don’t let me sleep in their beds unless I’m fucking dying!’ Is that it, Eric? Because, honestly, I’m not seeing why you wouldn’t want to live a healthy life. I’m not—I’m not seeing the logic here. Help me.”
Suddenly, as the visuals of him lying helpless and sick flooded her mind, her rage was only fueled. She glared at him in silence for a moment before she turned around and marched to her pantry, flinging open the double doors, and grabbing blindly for the items inside.
With her arms full, she began depositing things into the garbage. Cookies, chips, candy, all of it, all of the things she loved most in the world, gone. All of it. And she didn’t miss any of it a single bit.
“Jules,” Eric finally spoke. “Jules, what are you doing? Come on.” He walked over to the garbage can and retrieved an unopened box of cereal. “Come on, you love this stuff.”
“No,” she breathed as she left the pantry and crossed to the refrigerator. “This stuff hurts you. And if this hurts you, it hurts me. I don’t need this shit, anyway. I mean, who really needs this shit? Nobody does.”
As she emptied the contents of her refrigerator, Eric came and held the door open for her. “Stop this,” he said quietly. “I mean it.”
“No. No, I don’t want you to hurt. I’m tired of you hurting. Between this…this food and your father and…and I know that I do nothing but hurt you and, for once, Eric, I can do something to help you. I can do something that won’t hurt you—“
“Jules!” He finally barked, the volume in his voice forcing her to pause in place. “Stop it. I mean it. I don’t want you to give all this up. I want you to enjoy the things you love—“
Without thinking, her hand reached up and struck him across his beautiful face. “Get a clue, Eric!”
His eyes widened and his face reddened and, in that moment, Juliet knew she’d made a mistake. She gasped and she shook her head as she took a step backward, closing the refrigerator door behind her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so—“
But he didn’t let her finish. The wildness in his eyes was the last thing she saw before his hands reached out for her and grabbed her forcefully by the shoulders, crashing his lips down onto hers. The action took her by surprise, but she gave into him instantly, whimpering inside his mouth with want as his arms snaked tightly around her body and pressed her against him.
As she slid her arms around his neck, desperate for more, his hands drifted down her back and he leaned down and lifted her off the floor, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Turning around, he deposited her onto the island’s white countertop, and his mouth continued to deeply devour her, his tongue eagerly exploring every depth of her mouth that it could find. One hand pressed into her back while the other one tangled itself into her hair and, for a moment, she realized that he nearly suffocated her with his kiss and she was too intoxicated from it to care. He could suffocate her with his kiss until there was no life left in her if that was what he wanted. His kiss was everything; it was everything life had ever been about. She would never get enough of it.
The moment was over too soon, however, as she’d gripped his collar to pull him closer and he, in response, broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, letting his eyes fall shut. “Jules,” he whispered. “Not tonight.”
“What?” She asked, startled. Was Eric turning down sex? Denying it? Was he…was he feeling all right?
“Not…I mean, fuck. You know I want you, don’t you? All the fucking time, it never stops, but I just…I just need you tonight. Okay? Just…” He let out a breath and he closed his eyes again, as if mustering up the courage to form the words. “Just hold me tonight?”
She wanted to cry. The tears were already springing to her eyes. But she forced them down with a swallow as she nodded and took his face in her hands. “Okay,” she agreed. “Anything you need.”
ERIC WAS IN heaven.
There was a nagging part of him that knew he shouldn’t be allowing any of this night to happen, but he couldn’t help himself. It was her, it was the way she felt and the way he felt when he was with her. When he was with Juliet, everything was right in the world. Everything was warm, everything was comfortable, everything was perfect. Everything was home. No one had ever made him feel that way before.
Alan had been right when he’d warned Eric that he couldn’t keep his illness a secret for long. In the back of his mind, he’d known that he couldn’t. He was afraid of what would happen if Juliet knew. She was already broken as it was—she didn’t need a man who was broken, too. She needed someone strong and steady, someone she could feel secure in leaning on. Was that who Eric was? Eric, with his bad eyes and his sugar intolerance and his inability to keep his own life together? How could she lean on him if every step he took seemed to send him tumbling?
Juliet was right to be angry at him when he finally revealed himself to her, right to strike him the way she had. Never in his life had any sort of inflicted pain felt so strong, felt so good. He felt the caring and the concern in the aftermath on his cheek. He saw the look in her eyes, the fear that she could lose him—and then he’d lost all sense of control and he’d kissed her.
And now he lay there, draped across her couch, nestled in the tenderness of her arms.
Dinner had gone over well. Eric was proud of himself. They sat at the island in the kitchen and enjoyed their dinner together, sipping water and discussing the definition of a proper diet. Eric had figured that chicken and vegetables had been a good place to start and Juliet didn’t object, instead gushing over it with every bite she took. He had no way of knowing if she was exaggerating or not, but this was the second time he’d cooked for her and she seemed to thoroughly enjoy herself. Maybe, for his next career, he was meant to be a chef…
“Eric,” Juliet breathed quietly into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. She lay underneath him, her back propped against the couch’s arm, and he rested comfortably against her chest as her feet wrapped around and rested lightly on his thighs and her arms hugged his neck and his shoulders. One of her hands grazed softly through his hair and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. “Does it hurt?”
His eyes snapped open. “Does what hurt?”
“You know, the…the injections. Do you ever get used to it?”
Eric let out a breath and he tried to focus on the way her other arm tightened around him. “Uh, can we, uh…you know, you never did tell me how your therapy session went.”
“It was therapy,” she deadpanned.
“And?”
“And that’s it.”
“Jules, come on.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she insisted. Then her voice softened. “I want to talk about you.”
“You want to pity me,” he muttered.
“Ooh,” she teased. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Look whose tables are turned now.”
“I never pitied you.”
“You sure about that?”
Finally, he let out a breath. “Look. You’re a smart woman. It’s human nature to, on some level, feel sorry for someone when they hear a sad story about them. It’s almost a reflex. So, yeah, when you first told me, the first thing I thought was ‘poor Juliet.’ Wouldn’t you, if you were in my position?”
“No,” she huffed.
“Oh, really?” He challenged. “So you’re saying that the very first thing that crossed your mind when I told you I was diabetic wasn’t ‘Oh, Eric, you poor thing?’”
“Oh, of course it was,” she snapped.
“And there you have it,” he smiled triumphantly. “We’re just sitting here, having ourselves a nice little pity party, aren’t we?”
“I hate you sometimes,” she pouted.
“You wish you hated me sometimes,” he retorted. “But you can’t because I’m adorable. You don’t have to say it, I already know.”
Her hand left his hair and joined the other one around his neck. Then they drifted to his chest and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and she slid her hand inside. Her fingernails lightly grazed over the light peppering of near-invisible hair and she purred in his ear. “You’re adorable. Sometimes. But the reality is, you are absolutely the sexiest man I have ever met in my entire life. So completely irresistible.”
Her lips swept across his cheek and her breath caused every nerve ending in his body to go into convulsions. Her hand inside his shirt nearly sent him into shock.
But then he remembered his conversation with Alan and he sighed, taking Juliet’s wrist and pulling it out of her shirt. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips before he let his head fall back against her. “Give me another month and see how sexy I am, then.”
“What does that mean?” She whispered in concern.
“It means that my doctor says I have to take it easy on the lifting. Hope you like ‘em skinny because he wants me to maintain instead of build. Something about the strength training screwing with my insulin levels and, well, since you know how well insulin and I seem to get along, he figures it’s best that I not poke the proverbial beast. I can maintain a ‘healthy, athletic build,’ he says. Please. Nobody wants that shit.”
“But I want that shit,” she replied softly into his ear. She tightened her arms around him. “I want you healthy, that’s all I care about. I don’t care if you’re lean or built or whatever you are. It doesn’t change the man that you are. It doesn’t make me feel any different for you. You’re just you. And that’s what I want.”
Her words sent his heart soaring and he ran his hands down her thighs and hugged both of her knees to his sides. “Jules. I’ve never…been able to talk to anyone the way I can talk to you. Sometimes not even Travis. I don’t ever want this feeling to go away.”
“I feel the same. You’re my best friend.”
“Then, what…what is this? What are we doing here?”
“We’re doing…us?”
“This is what we do? We lay here and we torture ourselves. We kiss and we hold each other and behind closed doors we belong to each other, but once the morning comes…we don’t exist anymore?”
“Eric, I’m scared. You can reassure me all day long, but in my heart, I’m terrified. Because I know me. I’m scared that if we jump into this too early, I’ll…I don’t want to end it before it starts.”
“You haven’t even given it a chance—“
“Uh, yes I have. Remember? And I fucking flaked out at the first sight of your family. I’m not ready for that, yet, Eric. I’m just not.”
“So, then…what? This, then? Secret rendezvous at your convenience while I sit, waiting by the phone?”
Her body went rigid underneath him. “Um, if you recall, I answered when you called tonight. And now here you are. That wasn’t very fair to say, was it?” She paused and she huffed, wiggling her body in adjustment underneath him. “Someone’s had their grumpy pills today.”
He smiled and shook his head lightly. “No, I’m not…I just want you. That’s all. I want to date you. I want to do all the cliché romantic things like men are supposed to do. I want to wine and dine you and take you to the theatre and show you off at fancy galas—“
Juliet giggled. “You are not the ‘fancy gala’ kind of guy.”
“I could be,” he argued. “If I had the right woman. Which I did, by the way, have the right woman. At a fancy gala. Except that she didn’t know it, yet, and she ran from me, but whatever, I had her and I’m claiming that. So your argument holds no water.”
Her giggle turned into a laugh and it warmed Eric’s heart. He cursed himself for bringing up the subject of being together, as he allowed his impatience to overtake him, but she had been so good about his diabetes that he felt like he at least owed it to her to respect her wishes and slow down a little. Which was why, despite her advances, he didn’t try to stay over that night.
Interrupting his thoughts, Juliet said, “So Travis came by my office today.”
Eric tensed up immediately. Travis had already opened his mouth one too many times to her on Thanksgiving and Eric was still a little miffed at him over it.
Juliet must have felt the change in his body because she slid her hands up his arms and squeezed his shoulders. “Relax. Everything is fine.”
“Yeah? Because if I recall, the last time he came face-to-face with you—“
“It was a good meeting,” she assured him warmly. “He apologized and there are no hard feelings. I think we realized some things about each other and we’ve come to an understanding.” She paused and chuckled, her laugh music to his ears. “I think we’re both very protective of you.”
He was struck dumb for a moment. “You? Protective of me?”
“Of course. Well—maybe possessive is a better word.”
“Possessive?”
“Well…defensive?”
“I’m not really sure how I should feel right now…”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered her head, pressing her cheek against his temple. “There are a lot of people in your life who care very much about you.”
He turned his head to where he could feel her breath on his face. “Is that so?”
“Always,” she whispered.
“That goes both ways, you know.”
She let out a breath and she leaned back against the couch’s arm again. “Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but I had an amazing celebratory lunch today with the realtor. We’re closing on the building Wednesday!”
Eric grinned, reaching up to his neck and squeezing her hands. “Yeah? That’s amazing, it’s about time!”
“I know, right? Anyway, I scheduled a meeting for us in my office for Friday. Full project meeting, your staff, my staff—“
He sucked in a breath. “Ooh. Friday?”
“Yes. Friday morning. Travis said he thought everyone’s schedules were clear.”
“They are. They are. I think. I just—I was just thinking. I have a few conference calls this week and they’re overseas so I’ll be in the office late a couple of nights—Thursday, definitely.”
“Overseas? Wow, that’s…that’s amazing. But how are you going to get--?”
“It’s more like consulting. I guess…”
“Oh. So you’re a construction company and a consulting firm.”
“Well…no…” He shook his head. “It just kind of…happened. I don’t know. I was approached by a guy from Japan who was here on a business last week. Said he’s real impressed with our work and started, like, interrogating me. Next thing I know, he’s offering to pay Reynolds Construction to help guide his company through a chain of apartment buildings they’re trying to put up. Apparently there have been problems in the past, I don’t know. Recovering company, I think. Anyway, I don’t know…maybe someday we could officially branch out into consulting. I’d have to think about it…”
She pressed her lips softly against his temple. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve done incredible things with that company since you took it over.”
“You—you think so? How would you know--?”
“Because I researched you before I had to come crawling back, remember?” She laughed. “It’s like a completely different company since you took it over, it seems. You’re growing and you’re expanding and you’re going places. You really are something remarkable, I wonder if you don’t give yourself enough credit sometimes.”
Eric nestled his back deeper into her and he gazed across the room and out the window at the city. He couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. It was a bittersweet moment, being so incredibly flattered and touched by the way Juliet regarded him, but the knot in the pit of his stomach didn’t seem to want to go away. He never wanted this moment, or this night, to end. This could be their lives so easily. They could both come home after a long day at work and have dinner and relax and talk for hours just like they did now. And then they’d go to bed and he would make love to her and they would sleep in each other’s arms, night after night, without a worry or a care in the world. There was no safer place for either of them than in each other’s arms, Eric was convinced of it.
If only he could convince Juliet of it, too.