Page 20 of Please, Stay

His lips pressed against a sensitive spot right behind her ear.

She jumped away. “I gotta go.” Another kiss and she’d really embarrass herself. Her toe caught a rock. After a few faltering steps, she regained her footing. Her pulse scattered in irregular beats as his lips twisted into a smile like he knew he’d rattled her. Probably hard to miss.

“Tomorrow, Jules?”

This was a mistake. Juliana needed to focus on Eliza and Carrie. He didn’t give her a chance to refuse him.

“I’ll be here tomorrow.” His smile turned a little wicked. “Don’t make me come to theDispatchto find you. I’m not scared of your dad.”

She swallowed over the feel of dust in her throat. “With that threat, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

7

“For the past two mornings, you’ve hopped on the back of his motorcycle and rode all over the county.” Becky put her feet up on the dash of Juliana’s car on the drive home from Atlanta. “You’ve got to figure out when to go on an actual date with him. Talk to him. Give him a reason to kiss you more than the little pecks here and there.”

“Becky—”

“No.” She rolled the window down part way and let in the humidity. “You heard what Eliza said. She doesn’t want you to put your life on hold for her. You’ve done that already.”

As Statem came into view, she remembered the pitiful look on her sister’s face as Becky relayed how many times “Henry” had asked Juliana out.

The three of them still hadn’t come up with a plan to force their dad into reconciliation with Eliza. Juliana had come to face the facts: her dad was stubborn as hell.

He’d throw up a defense and refuse to listen to anything she said. He needed to see what he was missing. His daughterandhis granddaughter. Too bad for him that she’d inherited that same stubborn streak and wouldn’t give up.

Becky typed into her phone and laughed loudly. “Oh, your sister has got your number, Jules.”

“Why?” She shifted, trying to look at the phone, but Becky didn’t share. “What did she say?”

“She’s not going along with any plan to come home until you go on a date with Henry.”

“That’s stupid. It’s not her choice. It’s mine, and I choose not to mess up things with dad. I mean, I never expected him to fly off the handle when it came to me dating a man, but it makes sense. He sees me in the same light as Eliza, leaving town and leaving him. For now, I want things to remain balanced and even.” Despite her dream the night before of running off to Spain with Grayson.

Becky quirked an eyebrow up. “You doubt my awesome abilities to provide a cover story, so your daddy doesn’t find out.”

“No one doubts your abilities. You could force a blind man to see if you got the mind to.”

She wiggled in her seat, pleased with the assessment. “I’m glad you recognize it. I’ve honed my skills over the years. That’s why I’ve texted Ms. Iris.”

“What!” The car veered onto the shoulder, jarring them both with a series of thumps from the “wake up” bumps in the concrete. She righted the car and snatched the phone from Becky in the next breath, reading the screen. “Ms. Iris is supposed to invite my dad to dinner? He won’t go. You know that. He has to eat the same meal on the same day of the week.”

Becky grabbed it back. “Cameron would have your head for fiddlin’ with a phone and driving. Lord knows he’s written me enough tickets. Besides, I only asked her if she would mind helping with a cover-up operation and offer to cook Mr. Campbell a meal that she might try at the diner. She jumped on that. I’ve always wondered if she has a little thing for your dad.”

“It is strange how she’s the only one that can tell him what to do, and he doesn’t blow his lid.” Or push his blood pressure to the limit.

Becky held up her phone in another mini celebration dance. “It’s set. You’re going out with him.”

“When?! He didn’t even ask me again, Becky.”

“Ms. Iris is on board for any night, it seems, and Henry has asked you out every day since he first came to town.”

A bead of sweat popped up on Juliana’s forehead. She turned the air conditioning up. “I bet he won’t tomorrow.”

Becky tapped a finger on her chin, tilting her head to the side. Juliana hated that look. “You need to wear something that willmakehim want to ask you out.”

She’d counted. He’d asked her out four times. She’d said no four times. What were the odds he’d try a fifth time?

* * *

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