Page 32 of Roman and Jules
Roman let out a gruff laugh, his eyes turning warm as he expertly dished her up a plate. She took her usual place at the kitchen island and he set the food in front of her, which she finished too fast, but she was starving.
He leaned across the counter from her. “Breathe.”
She nodded. Now that they were together, her doubts were returning. She’d imagined all sorts of happy futures for them, but the moment she had to face reality, none of that seemed possible. She took her plate to the sink and washed it off. He came up behind her and moved her hair away from her shoulders. Her parents had told him that she liked having her hair played with—was he doing that on purpose? She tried to play it off with a casual smile, but her knees felt weak.
His arms slid around her and she stilled. She couldn’t play this off anymore.
“Jules,” he whispered.
She turned and he caught her in his embrace. Jules loved the smell of him, the blend of his sandalwood cologne and citrus shampoo, and how she fit into him, everything about him. Her adoration made her act stiff. If she admitted that she liked him now, what would that do to what they had? She’d never had a guy friend like this cherish her, want to be around her… but at the same time didn’t.
Her hands tightened over him. Mercutio came barking from the back and tried to get in on the love, pawing at their legs. It was a welcome diversion, and she let go of Roman to scratch behind the pup’s ears.
“What’s he got that I don’t?” Roman wouldn’t let her replace him that easily, and he knelt on one knee next to her and the dog, his eyes twinkling. “You got it wrong; it’s me. I’m the one who needs a back scratch.”
“Yeah?” She obliged him by scratching his back too, and he turned so that she could reach him easier, pointing out his shoulder and then his neck, and the back of his arm. She got it all.
“Now, I know why that dog follows you everywhere,” he said, smiling.
She laughed and dropped her hand. “Is everyone happy now?”
Roman pursed his lips and shook his head. She was startled, and his thick lashes lowered as he stared down at her. He traced the line of her jaw with a finger. She found herself holding her breath. “Mrs. Verona,” he said, “youneedto leave your guitar at home tomorrow—I think your hands will be busy with me.”
“Will they? Then you can’t bring your…” she hesitated, trying to find a way to be as witty as he was, “matches.” The joke fell flat because it came out too breathless. She really had it bad. “We’ll need something else to make a fire. A big fire.”
“Yes,” he agreed. He certainly wasn’t on top of his game either, but he clearly had other things on his mind as he caught her elbows and brought her to her feet. Before she could step back, he drew her forward to kiss her gently. She turned weak with shock. She’d wanted this so badly, and now that it was happening, she was afraid of ruining it. And still she enjoyed his soft touch, the proprietorial way he held her, how he couldn’t get enough of her. He ran his fingertips over her scalp, and he caught ahold of her hair and gripped it in his strong hand before he deepened his kiss on her. Her legs buckled, and he kept her upright until he finally pulled back, studying her with eyes the color of seafoam.
She tried to catch her breath.
His hands dropped from her and she was free, now that she didn’t want to go anywhere. He wasn’t explaining himself, and she didn’t want to ask—just live this moment as his wife. His eyes searched her face. “Goodnight.”
She thought of her song. “Yes,” she breathed. “It is.”
And she felt like she could float away. There was no hiding it when she squeezed his hand and stumbled for her room. Her shoulder rammed against the frame of the bedroom door in her confusion. For some reason she was incapable of seeing where she was going.
Roman grumbled out a laugh and put out a hand to block her from hitting the door again and guided her inside before closing the door behind her. She swung around to stare at it.
If she opened it now, her husband would be on the other side of it. He’d also taken Mercutio with him. What a smooth mover.
Chapter 14
The first thing Roman noticed when he got home from work was that Jules watched him differently. Good. His kisses had gotten through to her. He teased her when he caught her gaze from the kitchen. “Hey, babe, you like what you see?”
“Maybe…” She left her picnic basket she’d put together and moved over to him to readjust the collar on his khaki shirt. “You could use some straightening up,” she drawled.
He liked the feel of her fingers against the skin at his neck. His wife had dressed coolly for the desert in a cute little striped jumper that showed off her long legs. He set his forehead against hers and smiled. “You’re the only one I’d trust to do that.”
She laughed, a little dreamily, as her tender eyes lifted to his. He was mesmerized by her. “You might regret that.” Circling from him, she retrieved the picnic basket from the polished wooden floor. Mercutio was staying home tonight, and he let out a little whine as they neared the door.
“Hey, little buddy.” Roman leaned down to rub the back of his head. “Watch the place, will ya? I’m taking Mommy out for a ride.” Roman reached for her hand next. Her fingers were small and delicate, and he played with her wedding ring—hiswedding ring—slipping it around her finger. Jules ducked shyly, her hair sliding over her shoulders.
Roman had no idea what he’d do with this night, but his heart was setting the pace. Jules was the most precious thing in his life, and he wanted to show her exactly how he felt. Tonight she’d know that none of this was an act. He’d throw Ty out of their lives for good.
They left his suite and waited for the valet to drive his motorcycle up the circular driveway. Taking the keys, Roman got on and Jules straddled the seat behind him. It reminded him of the night that he’d married her—they’d been strangers then. She buckled on her helmet, her blonde hair a mass of curls flowing from it. Roman couldn’t get her to their romantic desert getaway fast enough, but first he drove her to the nearest convenience store.
The Nunnery, as the place was affectionately called, had all the supplies that they needed. He bought some firewood and fueled his bike while Jules went inside to get some drinks and other last minute snacks for their picnic. A yellow Mercedes Roadster drove up to the pump on the other side of Roman, and he straightened when he recognized his great-aunt Priscilla behind the wheel. She placed her jeweled fingers against the horn and honked at him.
He raised an uncertain hand in greeting. “That’s all you’ve got for me?” she called over the sound of traffic. “Get over here, boy, and give me some real loving.”
