Page 60 of Unpacking Secrets
“I did wonder, actually. It was an important consideration before I allowed you to rescue me in the woods,” she replied.
I laughed as I opened the door of the truck for Blue to jump in, but I caught Juliet around the waist before she followed. She smirked at me for a second, then rose on her tiptoes to kiss me. From up close, I watched her eyelids float down just before her mouth opened under mine and her body softened against my chest.
When we finally drew apart, I brushed the tip of my nose against hers and winked, then gave her a hand to help her climb up into the truck. Once I was in the driver’s seat with Blue wedged between us, Juliet grinned over at me.
“I do truly look forward to seeing firsthand this fascinating triangle you guys have going,” she said earnestly. “The evening promises to be quite illuminating.”
I shook my head. “I guarantee you it isn’t as interesting as it sounds. We’re all just friends.”
“Friends who used to be married but aren’t anymore, plus friends who used to not be married but now are, plus friends who just spent a night and the better part of the day in bed together?”
“That sounds about right.”
Her laughter filled the cab and I stopped wondering why I’d agreed to dinner at Libby’s. Juliet had been alone for too long. She needed to feel like she belonged in Spruce Hill, because shedidbelong here.
When we reached my house, her eyebrows rose once more. It was a quiet neighborhood close to the center of town, and the house was much like the other old Victorian homes found nearby. The siding was a soothing sage, with darker green shutters and tiny rose-pink accents along the scrolling woodwork.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
I parked the truck and cocked my head at the house. It had been a long time since I’d tried to look at it objectively. Even when I moved back in, the lingering traces of my childhood had kept me from noticing much beyond glaring spots that needed repair.
“The pink’s a little girly, I guess, but it didn’t seem worth changing. I’m comfortable in my masculinity.”
“Henry,” she breathed, “it’s not girly. It’s amazing. Would you mind . . . can I take some pictures? I already sketched both the cottage and the inn, but this house, this is the embodiment of Spruce Hill in my mind. I want to turn it into art.”
I smiled indulgently at her excited tone. “Well then, be my guest. Do you want to come in while I get changed or are you too enamored with the exterior for that?”
“If you think I’d miss out on the opportunity to see inside, you’re sadly mistaken,” she informed me, but she snapped more than a few pictures with her phone before we entered the house.
The interior was apparently just as captivating as the outside, if Juliet’s crooning appreciation for the dark woodwork, so carefully maintained over the years, was anything to go by. I left her to investigate the array of family photos decorating the mantle and hanging by the stairs while I gave Blue dinner.
Juliet was still admiring the pictures after I ran upstairs to grab a quick shower and change into a crisp gray button-down shirt with a clean pair of jeans. I came up behind her, fastening buttons as I peered over her shoulder.
“Is this you and your brother?” she asked, trailing her fingertips across a pewter frame.
“Yeah, that’s Aaron,” I said fondly. “He works with Libby and I’m sure she’ll tell him all about dinner tonight, so expect another invitation to be coming our way. He and his husband don’t like to be outdone when it comes to social gatherings.”
Juliet’s gaze lingered on the picture for another moment, then she turned and gave a low whistle, sweeping her gaze over me from head to toe.
“You were right. You do clean up well, Mr. Walker.”
I winked at her, then offered my arm. “Ready?”
“Let’s hope so,” she replied, slipping her arm through mine.
Leaving Blue with her favorite stuffed octopus for company, we crossed the street and made our way to Libby and Mark’s place. It wasn’t quite as elegant as my parents’ Victorian, but the house was well-kept, cozy and loved. Flower boxes in the front windows overflowed with blossoms, adding a splash of bold color against the pale yellow siding.
Juliet slipped her phone from her pocket and snapped a few photos before grinning sheepishly up at me. I only smiled, enjoying the opportunity to witness her excitement. Somehow, I’d known she wouldn’t be swayed by elegance, focusing instead on the loving little touches, the evidence of warmth.
I led the way to a side door instead of the front and let us in without bothering to ring the bell or knock.
“Anybody home?” I called as I kicked off my shoes in the mudroom.
Juliet slipped hers off as well, then scowled at me when I laughed at her rainbow striped socks.
“I was distracted,” she hissed under her breath.
“Yes, come on in,” Libby called from the next room. “Mark’s out back grilling some sides, I’m just getting dinner out of the oven.”
