A few minutes later, when his body had calmed, he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. They were sitting on a large, comfortable cream-colored couch with peach and light-green throw pillows. A white coffee table littered with magazines sat atop a peach-and-white shag area rug. There were plants everywhere, but they looked fake, every leaf perfectly formed and shiny. To the right of the couch was a yellow armchair with a bright-blue reading lamp hanging over the back, and beside it, a small aqua table with a stack of paperbacks on it, and two more stacks of books on the floor. The television was mounted above a pretty white cabinet with an aqua top across the room. Framed photographs decorated the wall on both sides of the television. There were dozens of pictures of her family and friends.
Grant’s eyes caught on a picture to the left of the television of him wearing fatigues, with one arm around Bellamy, the other around Jules, and a big grin on his face. His hair was short, his face clean-shaven, and he looked about as happy as a guy could get. It was wonderful and difficult to look at that picture, because it hurt to get such a clear visual of the difference in himself. He remembered when the picture was taken, during his last year in the military, more than seven years ago. He’d been the age Jules was now. He’d come home for Christmas, and Jules and Bellamy had put together a welcome-home party. How had he missed how stunning Jules had been, with her sparkling eyes and gorgeous curves? She’d spent the evening flitting around the way she always did, talking with everyone and singing the wrong words to songs, and he’d made a complete fool out of himself dancing with two left feet. He’d laughed with the guys, joked with his sisters and Jules, and even though there was tension between him and his father, they’d sat down and had a beer together.
Damn, that was an awesome night.
He counted back in years. Jules had been nineteen. Somehow the age difference seemed much bigger back then than it did now.
He ran his hand along her back and touched his cheek to her forehead, still resting on his shoulder. “I like your place, Pix.” His gaze moved toward the kitchen and dining area, which had a beautiful bay window, but no furniture. An enormous corkboard ran from floor to ceiling with dozens of pictures pinned to it, most of which looked like they were torn out of magazines.
Jules lifted her face, her sweet smile warming him to his core. “Hi,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips to hers, wishing he could carry her into the bedroom and make love to her properly. But his leg complicated things, and they’d only just come together, no matter how deep their connection felt. “Hi, beautiful. Let’s get you dressed before I lose my mind.”
He reached beneath her shirt and reclasped her bra, and she looked down. Her hair tumbled around her face, shielding her pinked-cheeked smile. He lifted her chin and kissed her pink cheeks. “Why are you embarrassed?”
She shrugged sheepishly. “I went a little wild.”
“I like you wild. It means you’re into me and I’m doing something right.”
“You did everything perfectly.” Her cheeks flamed.
He laughed softly and kissed her again. “Don’t ever worry about letting go with me. I want to see the real you. I like everything about you, Jules.” To lessen her embarrassment, he tried to lighten the mood. “But I am curious about that enormous corkboard full of pictures.”
“That’s my inspiration wall. My wish list of decorating ideas.”
“Why don’t you just buy the pieces and decorate?”
“What fun would it be to sit in front of a computer and buy everything online? I want each piece to be special. That’s why my dining room is empty.” He reached up and tucked a strand behind her ear so he could see her face, and her eyes flicked up to his. “I’ll find them when the time is right.”
He brushed his lips over hers. She really did live her life differently from anyone he knew. “I’m glad you thought the time was right for us. Thanks for giving me a chance.”
“I could say the same to you. Thanks for realizing we were worth it and making me that beautiful lantern. I know you have a lot going on, and you’re worried about your future and where you’ll end up. But I’m not. There are no guarantees of tomorrow for anyone, but we have now, and if we’re blessed with tomorrow, we’ll have that. You may not believe in fate or signs, but I believe enough for both of us. I know we’re meant to be close for however long we last.”
“You’re incredible.” He kissed her softly. “And beautiful.” He couldn’t resist kissing her again. “Tell me I can see you tonight.”
“I’m delivering wreaths around six thirty, but I can see you after.”
“Delivering wreaths?”
“Mm-hm. We make fall wreaths at the shop every year, and I give them out to the other shop owners in and around Main Street. It’s my way of giving back to the community that has always been there for me.”
“You really do like to share your happiness. We’re so different, Pix. Don’t take this wrong, but why do you like me so much? Why not go after some happy-go-lucky guy?”
“I guess I have a thing for big-hearted, sometimes-grouchy guys.”
“When I’m with you, it’s hard to be grouchy. It’s the other people who have to watch out. How about if I help you deliver those wreaths, since we never made it on that walk you wanted to go on the other night?” As much as he disliked being around too many people, he wanted time with Jules, and this was important to her, which meant it immediately became important to him.
“You remembered. I’d love that, but since I know how you feel about island gossip, we’ll have to keep our distance while we do it, and I won’t say a word about us when your mom is at my shop today.”
His jaw clenched. He didn’t want Jules getting caught up in his shit with his parents, and at the same time, he didn’t want her to feel like she had to hide their relationship. “Why will my mother be at your shop?”
“Because our moms, my grandmother, and Mrs. Remington help me make the wreaths every year.” She ran her fingers down his chest, worry shadowing her eyes. “Bellamy told me that your father’s birthday lunch didn’t end very well last weekend. I’m sorry. I feel responsible because I gave you all of that information. Have you guys smoothed things over yet?”
“Not yet, but that argument wasn’t your fault. You supported me, babe, they didn’t. And the fight was about more than just what I want to do with my life. It was about our family. I said some things I probably shouldn’t have. I’ll talk to them as soon as I figure out how to handle it.”
“Okay. If you want to talk, I’m a pretty good listener.”
“You’re an amazing listener.” He ran his fingers down her cheek and she turned, pressing her lips to them. Man, he loved that. “As much as I don’t want to be gossiped about, I’d never put that on you, Pix. I have no intention of hiding my feelings for you, so don’t feel like you have to hide us from the world.”
She exhaled loudly. “Good, because I stink at lying.” She lowered her voice, and he noticed that she leaned toward his right. She really did hear every word he said. “And I might have told Bellamy we kissed.”