“Yeah, I know. She gave me hell for hurting you.”
“She did?”
“Yes, and I deserved it. But you should know that I told your brothers I was crazy about you, so we’re even.”
“You did? Which brothers? When?”
“Archer and Jock, last night. We were boxing in your folks’ garage, and I couldn’t hold it back.”
“You couldn’t? See!” Her eyes lit up. “That’s another sign. You like me as much as I like you.”
God, this woman…
“I’m pretty sure you can create signs out of thin air.” He patted her butt. “I’d better get down to the marina. We’re working on the plans for the flotilla.”
“How fun. I love the flotilla. Can I help you guys? It’s one of my favorite holiday events, along with the tree lighting and caroling, of course.”
He chuckled. “I’ll ask Brant.”
“Yay!”
She climbed off his lap and held out her hand to help him up from the couch. He tugged her in for another kiss, earning a sweet giggle.
“I think you’re in for a lot of that, and I’m not sorry.” He kissed her again. “My mouth is already addicted to yours.”
“I like this clearer thinking side of you.” She kissed him again, and as he pushed to his feet, she said, “I’m really sorry I kicked you when I saw you on the landing, and I love the lantern. It’s the best gift I’ve ever been given, right up there with the painting of Sunset Beach.”
He remembered that the picture was in her bedroom. “Maybe one day I’ll see that picture again when we have far fewer clothes on.” He swept his arm around her waist, kissing her as they made their way to the door. He grabbed his jacket, accidentally knocking hers off the table. He caught it midair, and a pink envelope fell from the pocket. He picked it up and waved it at Jules. “I thought you didn’t know anything about these.”
“I have no idea where that came from.” She looked like the cat who ate the canary, wide-eyed and so frigging cute.
“I bet you don’t.” He leaned in for another kiss, unable to get enough, and his heart tumbled out. “You’re the best gift I’ve ever been given, Pix. See you tonight.”
Chapter Thirteen
JULES WAS ON cloud nine. She must have stared at the lantern for an hour as she waited for her body to stop vibrating with sexual energy. She’d never imagined herself capable of feeling the way Grant had made her feel. She’d heard her sisters talking about the big O but had never experienced anything like what they’d described until today. And not for lack of trying. She’d even read about how to touch herself and had tried to make it happen many times, but all she’d ever experienced were tremors. Grant had given her a full-on earthquake. The titillating sensations had engulfed, consumed, and ravaged her, leaving her numb with pleasure. If he could do that by only touching her, what would it be like if they made love?
She couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Or wanting it.
Her feelings for Grant had been brewing for so long, they no longer shocked her. They enticed her. She’d always believed that she would know when the time was right to take that next big step with someone—and now she had no doubt who that someone was meant to be.
She was so hyped up, she needed to tell someone, but that someone was usually Bellamy. Who else could she tell something so personal? But she couldn’t tell Bellamy that about her brother. She could only tell her that they were together now.
A couple.
Shivers of delight ran through her. All this time of wishing, hoping, and fantasizing, and now he was hers. She could kiss him, hold his hand, and do all those dirty things she’d been dreaming about. Maybe she’d talk to Daphne or Tara about the dirtier urges she was having, but the more she thought about it, she realized she wasn’t in a rush to do that, either, even if she felt like it might burst out of her. She wanted to keep that private, to savor it just between her and Grant.
She was, however, in a rush to tell Bellamy that she and Grant were together. Bellamy wasn’t working until the afternoon, and it was too early to call her. So she got cleaned up and waited until she went down to open the shop. She brought the lantern with her and put it on the counter by the register where she could admire it. Then she made the call and shared her news.
Bellamy squealed with delight. “My best friend and my brother! This is fantastic! But don’t tell me any dirty details, because that would just be weird.”
“Deal. But I have to say one thing, because I can’t hold it in. When we kissed this time, I swear it was even better than before. He makes me feel like I’m floating on a cloud and I never want to come down. I’ve never felt like this when I’ve kissed a guy.”
“Wow. I want someone to kiss me like that,” Bellamy said with awe. “That says something about how much he likes you, doesn’t it? I mean with everything he’s going through, to still have enough good feelings to connect with you like that? I was so worried about him, and so angry at him for hurting you. This makes me happy for both of you. Does this mean he knows what he’s doing with his life? Is he staying here on the island?”
“He doesn’t know what the future holds, but it means that whatever this is between us is as special as I thought.”
She told Bellamy about how she’d kicked Grant, and although she felt bad about it, she and Bellamy both laughed. She was telling her about the gorgeous paintings on the lantern when the door to the shop flew open, and her grandmother breezed in, laughing about something. Behind her trailed Jules’s mother, voluptuous and beautiful in jeans and a dark sweater, her long auburn hair flowing over her shoulders. She was holding the arms of Margot Silver, tall and elegant, in a dark wool pantsuit with a crisp white blouse, and Gail Remington, the Mother Earth of their gal pals, wearing a long blue crinkle-cotton skirt and a cream-colored blouse with several long, beaded necklaces. Mrs. Remington was a Glenn Close lookalike with a pointy nose and sharp chin, save for her thick, wavy brown hair, which was streaked with silver and always looked a little windblown.
Jules waved to them, a trickle of nervousness scampering through her. Should she tell them about Grant? “Belly, I have to go. Our wreath-making team is here. See you later.”
As she ended the call, her tall, stylish grandmother cut a path directly to her. She had a flair for style, with a blond pixie cut, wearing wide-legged black pants and a colorful sweater beneath a long coat that brushed the backs of her legs. “Good morning, Julesy.” She wrapped her arms around Jules. “You look especially beautiful today.”
“I do? Thanks, Gram.”
Her mother swept her into her arms, asking, “Who’s been monopolizing your mornings lately?”
Jules’s nerves caught fire. Could they tell that Grant had had his hands all over her this morning? Did she look guilty? Did someone see him leaving her apartment?
“Your mother was complaining that you haven’t come by for breakfast,” Mrs. Remington said.
Relief swept through Jules. “I’ll come soon. I promise, Mom. I’ve just been busy.” She tried to have breakfast with her parents a few times each month, but lately she’d been too sidetracked with Grant to sit still.