Authors: Kristen Ashley
Then he
realised she’d pulled off a nice manoeuvre. Company would mean she
would have less chance of being alone with him.
This time he
only nearly grinned. She was good.
“Battered
sausage for me, make that two and don’t let them skimp on the
chips,” Nick ordered, breaking into Douglas’s thoughts.
Julia nodded
and left and he and Nick watched her walk away. She was wearing a
pair of snug-fitting, fawn-coloured corduroys, a skin-tight black
turtleneck and her spike-heeled boots. Douglas decided his second
most favourite pieces of her wardrobe were her corduroys.
Or maybe it
was her boots.
“Phwoar, mate.
You can pick ‘em. Fire and ice in that one, more fire than ice,
lucky for you.” Douglas turned to his friend and noticed that he
was avidly staring at the space where they’d last seen Julia. Nick
looked at Douglas, an approving gleam was in his eyes. “You really
going to marry her?”
“Yes,” Douglas
replied.
“Good luck,
mate, that one’s gonna be a handful.”
“Precisely,”
Douglas returned and Nick threw his head back and laughed with deep
appreciation.
Douglas
ignored him. “We need to talk.”
There was
still mirth in Nick’s eyes when he said, “I figured that. Wasn’t
keen on the events of last night, was she?”
“Not
particularly, no.”
Douglas walked
into the lounge and Nick followed while talking. “Been telling you,
since your sister died and those kids came here, that you should
quit the work.”
Douglas nodded
and sat down. Until he was seated he didn’t realise how badly he
needed to do it.
“You gotta
take it easy, mate,” Nick noted softly, his words held grave
meaning.
“I need you to
move into the Gate House. I’ll ask Mrs. Kilpatrick to have someone
come in and clean it for you. No one’s been there in awhile.”
Nick nodded,
no discussion required, he knew what Douglas was asking.
“One thing,
though. You seem determined you’re gonna marry her,” Nick was back
to the subject of Julia, “but she doesn’t seem to agree.”
Douglas should
have told him to mind his own business but he was still tired,
hungry and his shoulder ached. He closed his eyes and pinched the
bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger before,
uncharacteristically, he shared.
“She needs a
bit of convincing.”
Nick
whistled. “There’s a woman out there who needs to be convinced to
marry
you?
” he asked,
clearly amazed.
“Apparently.”
Nick laughed
again before saying, “I like her even more.”
And even
though he’d never sought anyone’s approval, never asked for it, not
since he’d given up searching for it from his father, he looked at
his friend, who was his “bodyguard”, his comrade and his
partner-in-crime, and said with feeling, “Good.”
* * * * *
Chaos ensued
when Julia and the children arrived home, the children flying
around and setting the table, introductions to Nick were seen to in
short order and Lizzie prepared drinks, pouring the men’s bitters
into chilled beer glasses.
As they
settled in, Julia was still dumping fish and chips onto Ruby’s
plate when Lizzie slid into the seat to Douglas’s left, glancing at
him under her lashes. This left the seat to his right, the seat
relegated to the lady of Sommersgate House, open for Julia. He
didn’t react to what was, he assumed, his niece’s gentle
matchmaking but was pleased to find he might have a surprising
ally.
When Julia
turned to take her seat, she stopped and stared. Lizzie immediately
began forking huge pieces of fish into her mouth.
Yes,
Douglas
thought,
a
surprising ally.
Julia stiffly
took the seat to his right, not looking at anyone and also not
eating much of her meal.
Douglas found
that he liked the food, although it was not a nice steak, it was,
at least, filling, in a greasy way. He also liked the company.
Julia fell easily into the role of hostess, going out of her way to
include Nick and the children in the discussion and making Nick at
ease.
Not that Nick
wasn’t already at ease, in fact, Nick was enjoying himself
tremendously. He was also enjoying the children, telling jokes that
made them laugh. Julia eventually allowed her stiffness to recede
and laughed along with them.
Douglas
watched this scene with a sense of fascination, thinking, soon,
this scenario, strange to him and something he’d never experienced
before, was to be his life. Every night, sitting and talking with
the children, laughing, eating. Afterwards there would be… whatever
it was that families did after supper.
Then it would
be Julia and him, alone, in his bedroom. Julia, perhaps, pulling a
brush through her hair and striding around in nothing but her
dressing gown.
Later, Julia
in his bed, wearing nothing at all.
Something
stirred deep within him, something he’d never felt, not once in his
entire life. Something that was both alarming and soothing.
Something, for his sanity, he firmly set aside.
The kids
finished and Douglas allowed them to leave the table, taking all
the plates and cutlery to put in the dishwasher. Julia went with
them but came back carrying two more cans of bitter and another can
of cider for herself.
“You got a job
or do you look after the kids?” Nick asked as he popped open his
bitter, ignoring the glass and drinking it straight from the
can.
Julia had
reseated herself, informally folding one leg underneath her on the
chair and leaning forward to put her elbow on the table.
She poured her
cider while she spoke. “I’m volunteering at a charity in
Bristol.”
“Yeah? You
like it?” Nick asked, genuinely interested.
Douglas
watched, now captivated, as Nick’s simple question turned on a
switch in Julia and she lit up. Forgetting to be stiff and aloof,
she started to talk.
“I was a
little worried, starting something new. I was at my old job in The
States for over a decade, but it’s better than I expected, far
better…” Her eyes were alight, passion in her words as she carried
on.
Douglas sat
back and watched her silently while she poured out information that
normally would have had Nick nodding in his chair. Instead, her
fervour was catching and even Nick found himself making up
questions to keep her talking.
And Douglas
was struck by two things. First, she was very clever, knowledgeable
and accomplished and second, her work wasn’t just work, it was a
calling and she loved it. There was something extraordinary in
that, he’d never met anyone who had truly found their passion.
She seemed to
realise she was monopolising the conversation and her eyes slid to
her empty cider glass. “I’ll shut up now. I’ve got to be boring
you.”
“Not at all,”
Douglas assured her quietly, her gaze flew to him and he had the
unflattering impression that she’d forgotten he was even there.
“Okay,” she
whispered, making a decision and rising. “I’ve got to get the kids
to bed. It’s past Ruby’s bedtime and she’s a bear in the morning if
she doesn’t have her full night’s sleep. Nick, lovely of you to
stay.” She nodded to a smiling Nick and then she quickly exited the
room.
Again, both
Nick and Douglas watched her leave and, finally, Nick asked, “Once
I’m in your Gate House, can I come to dinner every night?”
Douglas turned
to his friend. “No.”
Nick chuckled,
taking no offense. “Didn’t ‘spect so. Wouldn’t want to share her
myself.”
Nick left
shortly after and Douglas went in search of Julia. She was in the
lounge, drawing the draperies.
He stood
watching her, liking the way she took care of his home, liking more
the way she took care of his friend and even more the way she took
care of the children but mostly the way, last night, she took care
of him.
When she
turned and saw him, she jumped.
“Don’t do
that,” she snapped, but her voice was breathy.
“What?” he
asked.
“Sneak up on
me,” she explained.
“I didn’t
sneak up on you,” he told her truthfully.
“You glide
around like a cat, it’s bizarre. No man of your size should be so
quiet.” She walked from the room, sliding by him, giving him as
wide a berth as possible and went into the dining room.
Douglas
followed her.
“We need to
talk,” he told her as she gathered all the glasses from the table
and turned to go to the kitchen.
“It’s late,
you need your rest.” She walked away, thinking that was that and
leaving him where he was. He heard distant rumbles in the kitchen
as she tidied.
He thought of
his options, made a quick assessment of them and then walked to her
room. He turned on the lights and eased himself into the chair in
the turret. He was shattered but determined to have this talk, even
if Julia was just as determined to avoid it.
She came in
not five minutes later and jumped again when she saw him.
“What are you
doing here?” Again the breathy snap, this time with wide eyes.
“As I said, we
need to talk.”
She studied
him.
He waited.
“Douglas,” she
finally said, her tone now beyond weary, “I didn’t get enough sleep
last night. I’m exhausted, you need to recuperate, let’s talk
later, okay?”
“No,” he
replied.
She crossed
her arms on her chest, regarded him for another moment and then
gave in with ill-grace. “Well then, say what you have to say.”
He opened his
mouth to begin but she interrupted.
“No, I think I
want to go first.”
He closed his
mouth and lifted a brow.
“
I
think…” she started and stopped. “No, that isn’t right. I thank you
for…” she stopped again and then looked away, emitting a frustrated
noise that Douglas decided was bloody adorable then she started
again. “Your attention
and
your stated intentions are very nice and I appreciate them.
I… I’m honoured,” she stammered.
He
watched her, not saying a word and not finding her adorable any
longer mainly because he did
not
like that she considered his intention to marry her “very
nice”.
“But,” she
shifted uncomfortably and then looked at him before suddenly and
exasperatedly bursting out, “quit staring at me like that!”
“Like
what?”
“Like… like
that!” she retorted, with a jerk of her head toward him, clearly
thinking her words were an explanation (which they were not).
He lifted his
good hand, palm up.
“Oh forget it,
forget the chat too, I’m tired,” she snapped.
“Julia.” He
stood, deciding it was time to take control of the conversation.
She whirled on him and he expected another one of her brilliant
tirades, a pouring forth of one of her lists. But instead her
shoulders drooped, she turned her head to the side and she pulled a
shaking hand through her hair.
“I can’t
believe you’ve been shot,” she whispered. “What on earth are you
doing that puts you in the way of a bullet? What is it that the
police can’t be involved?” He walked toward her and she turned her
face to him. “I want to be your friend, Douglas. I think I could be
happy here, with the kids, in this house, having a challenging job.
If you would just help a little and be my friend.” Her voice was
aching and he felt an odd, unfamiliar feeling of tenderness as he
stopped before her. “But I can’t let myself like you if I think
something’s going to happen to you. I have to protect myself,
protect the children.”
She was
suffering from a hint of post-traumatic stress, he imagined, and he
moved closer to her, gathering her warm body in his one good
arm.
She leaned
away, arching her back against his arm and looking up at him.
“I talked with
Nick today,” he explained quietly.
He felt a hint
of gratification when her eyes flared with hope. “Yes?”
“Yes,” he
assured her and saw, as well as felt, the relief flood through her
as she realised what he was saying. He felt the strange stirring
again at the thought of doing something of which she so obviously
approved.
“I’m glad. For
us and for you too,” she whispered.
“Now,” he
said, setting that topic aside, “about your being my friend.”
She nodded her
head. “I’d really like that, Douglas.”
“I would too.”
His gaze dropped to her lips and he watched the tips come up in a
happy smile.
“I’m so glad,”
she breathed, more relief, so much it made her tense body relax
against his. “This is going to work so well, I promise,” she stated
brightly, obviously misinterpreting what he said.
“Julia.” She
was pushing against his arm trying to get away; he tightened it and
swept her against his body. He felt her soft breasts press against
his arm in the sling and the warmth of her body and he liked
both.
“Oh,” she
muttered, lifting her head again to look at him. “What?” She was
still straining against his arm and it was causing pain in his
opposite shoulder.
“Stop trying
to pull away, it’s hurting me,” he told her and she immediately
stilled.
They watched
each other for awhile and then she gave into her curiosity and
asked, “Is there something more?”
Douglas noted
her tone was slightly strained.
“It’s about us
being friends.”
“Yes?”
“I’d be
delighted to be your friend,” he told her.
“I… I thought
we’d established that. I’ll be delighted to be your friend
too.”
He nodded.
So did she,
but hers was jerky and unsure.
“But I also
intend to be your husband.” Her body stiffened again and she
started to pull away but glanced at his sling and stopped then her
eyes flew to his in fear.