“Yay,” she shouts, jumping up and down. My eyes zoom in another direction like my pupils are in danger of getting burned by the sight of her. “This calls for a celebration,” she announces. “How about a sandwich? Are you hungry?”
I rub a hand over my stomach and smile. “I’m always hungry.”
“Excellent. Make yourself at home and I’ll be right back.” Winking, she hurries off. I settle myself on a comfortable lounger, clasping my hands behind my head. I close my eyes and let the beautiful early June afternoon envelop me. Birds are chirping happily, a slight breeze is wafting over me, and I’m feeling content.
“Here, I thought you might like some lemonade.” She hands me the cold glass, and our fingertips brush. “I made these cookies this morning, they’re chocolate chip.” She winks, placing the plate down on the small table next to the chaise I’m kicked back on. “I figured I’d cover all bases.”
If she made these this morning, then she must have been planning to see me. Unless she eats an ungodly amount of cookies by herself. My heart races at the thought of this amazing woman seeking out my company.
“Thank you, Mrs. Thatcher,” I manage to reply, despite my racing thoughts. Grabbing a cookie, I raise it to my lips, biting off a large chunk. Cookies never tasted so good. “Mmm, this is delicious.”
“I thought I told you to call me Juliet? Mrs. Thatcher is my mother-in-law.”
She’s married?
I cough, choking on cookie crumbs. I take a sip of my lemonade and clear my throat. “You’re married?”
She shakes her head, her expression turning serious. “No, I was. My husband was in the army. He was killed in the line of duty two years ago.”
Oh, damn. Not what I was expecting to hear.
“I’m sorry. That must be hard for you.” And I really am. It’s heartbreaking to think of someone as sweet as Juliet is having something so horrible happen to her.
She sits down on the edge of the chaise next to mine and remains facing me. “It hasn’t been easy, but it’s getting less painful every day. The first year was surreal. I felt lost. I went from happily married, to widowed at twenty-six.”
I shake my head. “I can’t imagine what you went through.”
“When Chris passed, I not only lost him but the military life I’d grown to love and all the friends we’d made.”
“That’s a lot for someone so young to deal with,” I tell her.
“It was. In the blink of an eye, my world flipped over. I lost my own identity and struggled to figure out who I was without my husband—without my military family.”
“Did your own family help you?”
“I went to live with my parents in Maine. I stayed with them until I moved here.”
“What made you choose this area?”
“I wanted a fresh start and I’ve always loved Boston.”
“It might’ve been easier to move somewhere near your family.”
“Maybe, but I need to learn to stand on my own two feet.”
“From what I’ve seen, it seems like you’re doing well.”
“I get so lonely. I don’t have any friends or family in this area.”
“Do you work?” I ask. I’ve never seen her keep a regular schedule.
“I’m a painter, so I work from home.”
“Like an artist?”
She smiles. “Yes, exactly. I’m an artist. Which is another reason I chose Boston. I have some connections here at a couple of art galleries.”
“Can I see your work sometime?” I question. I don’t want to be pushy, but I’m impressed by her job. Hell, I’m impressed by everything about her, and I’d like to see what she paints.
“Sure. I have some of my paintings displayed inside, and my studio is almost set up.”
“How did you end up buying a house here in this neighborhood?”
Her eyes wander over her backyard. “This place felt right when I saw it online, but once I saw it in person, I knew I was home.” Mouth gently curving contentedly, she leans back with her palms on the cushion, supporting her upper body. “I like the close proximity to the city without sacrificing the backyard.” Her eyes settle on me. “And the next-door neighbor’s not too bad.” She smiles, and I bark out a laugh. Tingles erupt from the top of my head and move down through me when I notice the way her gaze leisurely traces over each part of my body. “You work out a lot.” It’s an observation, not a question, said in a breathy voice. “What else do you like to do with your free time?”
“I play football, hang with my friends, do whatever my parents need me to around the house. Gotta earn my keep.” I shrug my shoulders.
“What about your girlfriend?” she asks.
“What girlfriend?”
“The girl I’ve seen you with. The one who works at the coffee shop.”
“That’s Liz. We’re just friends.”
“Really? I assumed there was more going on there.”
I shake my head. “We’ve never crossed that line and we never will. She’s like my sister. She’s family to me.”
“That’s sweet. I never had a male friend… until now.”
“I’m glad we’re friends,” I reply.
“Oh, I meant Mr. Vine and me. But you’re okay too,” she deadpans before giggling. Mr. Vine is our ninety-year-old neighbor who doesn’t speak to anyone. She’s adorable, and her laughter is contagious. Before I know it, I find myself joining in.
Chapter Five
Emmett
I brush the crumbs from my hands. “Thank you for lunch. The sandwich was delicious. How about a swim?” I need to cool off in more ways than one, and it would be nice to get to a comfortable place with Juliet. Maybe the more time we spend together, the less attracted to her I’ll be.
“Sure.” She rises to her feet and walks to the edge of the pool to dip her toe in. “It might be a little cold at first, but I find it refreshing.”
As I stand, I shove one more bite of cookie into my mouth and walk across the patio. I stop next to her and look down into the inviting crystal-clear water. “I haven’t been for a swim yet this year.”
“Well then, I guess it’s time.” Juliet uses both her hands to shove the middle of my back. She takes me by surprise, knocking me into the pool. The cold water feels icy against my sunbaked skin and surprisingly pleasant. I come up for air, laughing, and wipe the water from my face.
“I see how it’s going to be.” I grin like a shark. “Are you coming in or am I coming to get you?”
Juliet giggles and stretches her arms out in front of her, warding me away. “I’m coming in.”
“Not fast enough.” Pushing my hands through the waves, I send a curtain of water splashing her way.
“Aargh. Stop.” She closes her eyes and turns her head to the side until I stop. Beads of water dot her bikini and drip down her golden skin. When she opens her eyes, I motion like I’m about to splash her again. She shrieks, jumping into the pool, and lands with a splash right in front of me. Immediately, we both begin propelling water at each other. Eyes squeezed shut, Juliet does her best to keep up with the onslaught I’m sending her way, but she’s no match for my longer, stronger arms. She spins around, and a squeak escapes her lips while I continue forward, drenching her back.