Love Is Crazy (Love Is… #1) (28 page)

J
uliet woke
in a tangle of sheets and a pool of sunshine that streamed through the window. At some point during the night—or maybe it was late enough in the evening to be morning—Juliet and Ian made it upstairs into her bed, although it had been awhile before they’d actually fallen asleep, seeing as how they were too distracted by each other’s bodies. Stretching, she pulled herself into a sitting position and smiled at the view of the ocean.

This. She could definitely wake up like this every morning. Her body limp from pleasure, aching a little with the memory of Ian inside her. The sun rising over the water just outside her window.

That was, until she noticed she was alone. That instead of waking up in a tangle of arms and legs, she’d woken as the sole occupant of her bed. Had he left? Oh God. Was that a one night stand?

See,
said her head to her heart,
I told you not to get involved with your landlord.

And then she heard the opening and closing of her cabinet doors, the hiss of the coffee pot, and the ever so welcome scent of coffee came wafting up the stairs. Stopping to slide on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, Juliet padded down to the kitchen.

“Morning,” she said and Ian smiled, looking absolutely tasty in his dress pants and bare chest, his hair rumpled from sleep. At his feet, Lulu was working on the breakfast Ian had poured into her bowl.

“I was gonna surprise you with breakfast, but…” He gestured around the kitchen and all the open, empty cabinets. “You don’t have anything to actually make breakfast with.”

“That’s not totally true.” Julz bent and picked out her little egg pan from underneath the stove. “I’ve got this.”

“I suppose that would work, if we wanted to have breakfast at noon.” He took the pan from her and set it down. “Now come here,” he said, pulling her close. “You should have to walk around like that all the time, just a t-shirt and miles of leg out on display.” He kissed her, his hands sliding up her back, raising goosebumps at the contact. “I did make coffee,” he said, his lips brushing hers. “But you only have one mug.”

“Yeah, but it’s a damn good mug.”

“It
is
a mighty fine mug.”

Juliet beamed. She loved that mug. She had no idea why, it was just a chunky thing she’d picked up from a vendor on the street, but it was one of the first things she’d ever bought herself. “It’d be too much to hope that you like your coffee with cream and sugar so we could share, right?”

“Cream
and
sugar? I’m sorry, I can’t be with someone who does that to her coffee.” Ian shook his head disdainfully and leaned back on the counter, his abs flexing. Juliet couldn’t stop herself from staring.

“I suppose a pilot with the body of an Adonis and ability to totally tear apart a porch and put it back together again just takes his coffee strong and black.”

“Shows what you know. I like mine with cream.” He gave Juliet a little ‘I told you so’ look and pressed off the counter.

“Well, here’s the thing, Lt. Moore, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll show you what years of supporting myself through college has taught me.” Juliet poured his coffee while Ian sat at the table, leaning back in the chair and crossing his long legs, his eyes tracking her every movement. She made his coffee in her favorite chunky mug, stopping to make sure she added the right amount of cream and then smiled as she reached up into the cabinet for a bowl.

Ian raised his eyebrows. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m totally serious.” Juliet poured coffee into the bowl and added her cream and sugar and carefully took a sip, using both hands to keep from spilling. “See,” she said, lowering the bowl to the counter. “Totally works.”

“If you say so,” Ian said, laughter in his voice, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Now, almighty Queen of Not Enough Stuff, just how on Earth are you going to cook us a breakfast using one little egg pan? I am a man, after all. A man who worked up one hell of an appetite last night.”

Juliet beamed, the smile working its way up from somewhere in her toes and radiating through her entire body. She wished she had the perfect response, witty and charming, but came up with nothing more than a monstrous blush working its way across her cheeks. How is it that he’s able to make her come so undone? How is it that he manages to get in under her practiced exterior and leave her speechless time and time again? She bent to grab a baking sheet out from under the stove, totally aware that her t-shirt had ridden up and was showing a good bit of her lace panties.

Take that, Ian Moore,
she thought.
That’s just what you get for making me blush.
A quick glance over her shoulder as she straightened showed her that Ian had definitely noticed the panties. He watched with curiosity as she turned on the oven and took down a large bowl, poured some flour, milk, and just a little butter into it and started mixing with her hands.

“Don’t tell me you’re making homemade biscuits. I thought you were a city girl.”

“A city girl who had to learn to make it without a lot of disposable income. Biscuits are cheap and filling.” After making the biscuits, she plopped a few on the baking sheet and stretched out a few pieces of bacon beside them before sliding it all into the oven.

“Okay,” Ian said after taking a drink of his coffee. “It’s time for another round of the Get to Know You Game.” Lulu wandered over to him and stood on her hind legs, put her front paws on his leg, and wagged her tail furiously. Ian absently scratched her head and Juliet smiled. Michael would have kicked the little dog away, complaining about dog hair on his suit pants or any other number of annoyances.

“Sounds good.” Juliet pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and contemplated the rest of her kitchenware. She could make an omelet in the microwave, but that wasn’t exactly delicious and she really wanted to wow Ian this morning. “You go first.” She put her egg pan on the stove and turned on the burner.

“How come you had to support yourself through college?”

“You really go for the tough questions, don’t you?” Juliet smiled at Ian over the edge of her bowl of coffee.

“Enquiring minds,” he said, flaring his hands in an apology. “If it’s not a good topic, feel free to pass.” The wicked grin he gave her told Juliet that passing would be a terrible idea. Plus, as uncomfortable as she was talking about her family, she had the whole BDSM contract with Michael Phillips thing she should probably save her pass for.

“Oh, no. You told me passing would only make you more curious than you already were.” Julz sprayed the egg pan with some non-stick oil and cracked an egg. It sizzled as she poured it into the hot pan and the sound mingled with the ever present rhythm of the waves against the shore. The smell of coffee and bacon and biscuits filled the open kitchen while sunlight streamed in through the windows, splashing light on the floor and walls. The contrast of this morning against the cold and razor sharp mornings she’d had in New York was powerful. “Why did I have to support myself?” she asked as she slid the first egg out of the pan and cracked a second. “It was the only choice I had. I wanted to go to college. I wanted to prove I could succeed, that I was worthwhile, and I didn’t have a lot of support from my parents.”

“So, you just did what needed to be done. Learned to make biscuits and drink coffee out of bowls.”

“That’s exactly what I did. Learned to do things on my own, with what I had at the time. My mom was busy following her dreams, proud that she’d raised such an independent woman, and my dad was too busy with his new family to care about what I was doing.” Juliet pulled the biscuits and bacon out of the oven and went to work making breakfast sandwiches that she then plated and served.

It took a lot out her to make those statements and not get emotional. She took a bite of her egg sandwich to try to work around the lump forming in her throat. She’d spent so much time feeling alone. Loved, sure. Her parents loved her, but they didn’t care about her. Not the way she needed them to.

Ian eyed her and she could see an army of questions hanging out in the tight spot between his eyebrows. She smiled, not wanting to darken the mood of the morning. Her past was behind her. Sure, it had left its mark on her, but she wasn’t going to keep letting it hurt her. Not anymore. “My turn,” she said while Ian took his first bite.

He groaned and closed his eyes in pleasure. “Oh, Juliet,” he said around a mouthful of biscuit. “You keep feeding me like this and you might never get rid of me.”

“You say that like I’m going to want to,” she replied before she knew what she was saying.
Good lord
.
Way to get clingy.
Another bite of sandwich and a long, awkward drink of coffee to cover up her embarrassment. “How come you’re flipping houses instead of flying planes? Flying was your life-long dream, right?”

“Talk about tough questions.” Ian didn’t look at all playful and Juliet regretted her question. She had wanted to keep the atmosphere light, not dredge up old pain points. Ian took a deep breath and let it out before sitting back and running a hand through his hair. He turned his head away from Juliet and gave his answer to the ocean. “On my last flight, my plane malfunctioned and we crash landed. The plane was mangled and my co-pilot was stuck, bleeding and unconscious. I did everything I could to get him out, tore a bunch of ligaments in my back and shoulders trying. But I couldn’t get him out. And the damn thing caught fire and I kept right on trying until my hands burned, but I finally had to give up and leave him.”

Juliet set her sandwich down on her plate. “Shit. I’m sorry.” How else could she respond to that? What could she say in the wake of such awfulness? Here she was carrying around the scars of a family that loved her but didn’t coddle her, and he’s smiling through tragedy like that.

Ian looked her in the face and finally smiled, leaned forward and took another bite of his breakfast, moaning in appreciation. By the time he swallowed, the darkness had left his eyes. “I’m okay, I really am. I just chose not to fly anymore in order to make a clean break. Rebuild myself and my life and not live in the wake of the accident. We all have things that break us, but we get stronger each time we put ourselves back together. Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.”

“Einstein said that. It’s one of my favorite quotes.”

Ian smiled. “Mine, too. Next question. What other quotes do you have rattling around up there?”

Juliet thought for a moment. “Luck is what happens when opportunity meets preparation.”

Ian nodded in appreciation. “Another great one.”

“What about you? Anymore inspirational quotes?”

“Milton Berle said ‘if opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door.’ I’ve tried to build my life around that one.”

“Oh, that’s a good one! I think I kind of live my life that way already.”

“Sounds like it.”

They finished their breakfast while playing the Get to Know You Game. Over and over, they found things they shared in common. Similarities in thought and in their approach to life and the problems that came with living. They laughed and they joked and the coffee had long gone cold when Ian finally stood up from the table and stretched.

“I don’t think we’re gonna get much work done on the deck today. We’ve talked away the morning and it looks like a hot one out there. I do need to get going though, have a few things I need to get done today.”

Juliet couldn’t help but pout. She didn’t want him to leave. Not one bit. But, she’d already done the strange, clingy thing once this morning. No need to do it again. She gathered the dishes from the table while Ian located the rest of his clothes. It was a definite shame to cover up a chest like that with a shirt, even though he still looked hot as hell as he raked his hands through his hair, trying to set it to rights.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” she asked as they headed towards the door.

Ian took a step back and let his eyes sweep over her body. “Only if you promise to look like that,” he said and pulled her in for a kiss, tracing a hand up her back and wrapping it in her hair, the other one squeezing her breast through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

“Okay,” she breathed when he finally pulled his mouth from hers. “I’ll promise to look like this as long as you promise to do that throughout the day.”

“Sold.” Ian kissed her forehead and stepped out of the embrace

“You have a nice day, Lt. Moore.”

He snapped into a sharp salute, face hard and eyes stoic, jaw set and chest out. “Yes, ma’am!” And then the naval aviator dissolved into the playful Ian Moore reappeared and he slid one eye closed in a wink. “Mostly because I’ll be thinking about you.”

And then, before she could think of anything clever to say, he swept through the door and hopped into his car, waving as he pulled out of the driveway. Juliet closed the door and leaned against it, eyes closed. Chest heaving.

Was this really her life? Could she finally be on the brink of some kind of happily ever after? Living out her dream in a home near the sea, with a man who took her breath away every time he came near?