There was something about her. About the way her eyes softened when she looked at him, whether she knew it or not. In the way she tilted her head when she listened, like she was completely invested in whatever he had to say. There was a time when he could tell her anything and she would listen. She knew all of his secrets, and for a long time, he kept all of hers. He’d lost track of the number of nights they spent together on midnightbeaches, gazing up at a sky full of stars, making wishes and sharing dreams. So long ago, she was his everything. He’d catch the moon and chase the stars for her, if she asked.
He hadn’t felt that way about anyone since…well, since her.
Brock roughed a hand over his face. “I was agitated with my father.”
The admission eased some of the weight crushing his chest.
“What’d he do this time?”
“Same thing as always.” Brock scowled. “Nothing.”
Juliette laughed, full and rich. And his heart stuttered. Stumbled. Because damn, he’d missed that sound.
“It’s actually something Yaya said,” Brock continued before he lost his nerve. “About my mother.”
“Your mother?” Juliette’s smile vanished. Her lashes fluttered back. She knew his mother wasn’t in his life as a child, knew she was even more nonexistent than his father. A tiny frown crinkled across Juliette’s brow. “What about her?”
“That’s what I can’t figure out.” Brock’s knee bounced, an anxious habit, and he finished off his beer. “Yaya told me to ask my dad about her.”
“Then you should ask him. If Yaya thinks the two of you need to have a conversation, then you do. She’s never been wrong.” Juliette settled back against the couch, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Open conversations are important in relationships.”
Brock grinned. “Says the girl in a seven-year-long fight with her mom.”
“Shut up,” she muttered and bumped her shoulder into his. He nudged her back in return.
But the teasing motion put them a little too close. The space was suddenly a little too intimate. Her legs were still tucked and her knee was resting on his thigh. There wasn’t a shred of space between their arms, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her. When Juliette glanced up at him, he knew she was thinkingthe same. It would be too easy to kiss her. To pull her into his lap and see if she’d feel the same, taste the same, as she had all those years ago.
“I need to ask you something.” Her voice sounded uneven. Unsure. A little breathy and it made his cock jump.
Clenching his jaw, Brock gave a slight nod. “What is it?”
“Why did you leave all those years ago?” She lifted one slim hand before he could answer. “And please don’t say the Marine Corps took you away. I knew that was coming when you joined, but I was supposed to go with you.”
Brock said the first thing that came to his mind. “I met someone else.”
The lie gutted him. But the way Juliette looked at him just then, like he ripped out her heart and crushed it with his bare hand, was enough to make him sick.
She shifted. Away from him. “Oh.”
Brock stood abruptly, swallowing down the bitter bile of remorse. “I’d better go. I’m sure Anders is going to give me an earful for kicking Cody off the jobsite today.”
“Yeah.” Juliette set her beer on the end table and pushed up from the couch. Her face was flushed, her eyes were downcast. “Sure.”
She was still too close. The enticing scent of her drew him in, leaving his brain fogged with desire and regret. She was barely a breath away. So close, yet so far. Golden light spilled over her through the large windows, dousing half of her in shadows, leaving her raveled in a ribbon of mystery. Icy eyes. Hair like velvet. Full, rosy lips. All he had to do was lean in…Brock took a deliberate step back. “See you later, Juliette.”
“Jules,” she corrected quietly, and tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. She looked up at him from under a set of thick lashes. “You can call me Jules.”
He didn’t trust himself to speak. He just nodded and left.
The whole way home, he couldn’t think of anything else. His mind was occupied with Juliette and how dangerously close he’d come to kissing her. How badly he’d wanted to touch her, hold her, make her his all over again.
Brock shoved a hand through his hair and shook his head. He needed to snap out of it. They’d had their chance, and it was gone. In fact, he knew for certain they would never get it back.
This was Juliette Laurent. She wasn’t planning on staying in Mystic Cove, it was stupid to get attached. To even consider a future. Plus, she was a coworker now, which would only make any sort of relationship, other than a professional one, a thousand times worse. She would help him with the beach house, and in turn, he would give her a glowing letter of recommendation when she left.
Because eventually she would leave.
She was here for now, but for now wasn’t forever.
