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Then, appalled at all that he’d revealed, appalled at the emotion he saw in her eyes, he jumped up. His feet stumbled over nothing again.
“I’ve got to go,” he muttered, already backing away from all the angst he’d laid at her feet. Christ! What was wrong with him? This wasn’t the kind of contact he’d wanted to make with Juliet. Not this kind of touch.
He hadn’t wanted this kind of closeness at all.
Seven
Love is friendship set on fire.
—JEREMY TAYLOR
It was Knitters’ Night at Malibu & Ewe, and Juliet was dropping by the shop again, this time fully aware of what—who—she’d find inside. Her sisters.
But it was Noah on her mind. He’d done so many things for her over the past years. Even when Wayne was still alive, she remembered Noah arriving on scene as she struggled to lift a flat of pansies from the trunk of her car. On another occasion, he’d laughed at the crooked result of her picture-hanging attempt and taken the hammer out of her hand to line the frame straight on the hallway wall.
For such a long time, she’d merely considered him her husband’s helper, another set of hands, a better eye than her own. But now…
Now she was seeing him as more—as a man. A complex man—an attorney, a soldier, someone who overcame a tough childhood with a compassionate soul still intact. When her very own dinner party had hit some snags just days before, it was Noah who had stepped in to smooth and soothe.
As penance for her previous blindness, or at the very least to show him her gratitude for how he’d helped during the party, she wanted to give back something in return. She hoped Cassandra and Nikki could help her brainstorm a suitable gift.
The door to the shop was half open, so she slipped in without a sound. It was not yet 7 P.M., but Cassandra was ready for the knitting group. The lights were blazing, Juliet could smell coffee brewing, and on a small table sat sweating bottles of water and trays of baked goods.
But at the register, the shop owner was cursing. “Nikki, can you give me a hand?” she called out after another string of frustrated swear words.
From somewhere unseen, Nikki called back. “I don’t do register tape, you remember that.”
“No, I remember that you bragged about the ability to do every and any job found in a restaurant. Surely—”
“Can I help?”
Cassandra started at Juliet’s voice, then looked over to beam a distracted smile. “You’re here.”
“And willing to do what I can.”
The other woman flashed another quick smile. “No offense, but I doubt you have the moves to tame the Accucount 480. Or, in layman’s terms, my uncooperative cash register.”
Cassandra couldn’t know how Juliet resented being seen as nothing more than an attractive decoration, so she ignored the little sting and instead made her way behind the counter. She shouldered Cassandra aside even as the woman sent out another smile—indulgent, the kind you’d serve the silly village idiot.
In ninety seconds this village idiot had the paper tape replaced and the register ready for business. She glanced up to give the shop owner a pointed look.
Nikki came around the corner at the rear of the shop. “Hey, imagine that. She’s not just another pretty face.”
Juliet nodded. “I’ll have you know I put in my share of afternoons at the Palisades Women’s Club thrift store.” Though once it was out she decided it sounded closer to boasting about flower-arranging classes than she’d like. “Okay, it wasn’t running a business or running a restaurant kitchen or—”
Nikki signaled a time-out. “Don’t apologize. While I might have talents truly worth admiring, the Froot Loop here isn’t good for more than weaving nothing into more”—She pointed upward, at an exquisite, knitted string bikini displayed on the wall—“well, more nothing.”
Instead of taking offense, Cassandra laughed, making it clear the two were easy enough with each other to take teasing with good grace.
I’ve never had that, Juliet thought. No sibling to laugh with, let alone pester.
“You’ll regret your insults after you’ve seen your Halloween costume, Nikki.” Cassandra turned to whip a white plastic dry cleaner’s bag off a dressmaker’s dummy. “Tada!”
“Oh. My. God.” Nikki stared at the figure, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh. My. God,” she repeated, her voice muffled and her eyes blue and green platters.
Juliet figured her own were at least saucer-wide. It was the most outrageous Halloween costume she’d ever seen. The skirt was a belly-baring knitted tube of silver-shot seaweed-green that curved in at the ankles and then flared out again in faux-flippers. The top…well, the top was really just two starfish-colored and starfish-shaped pasties. Thrown over the shoulders of the dummy was a sort of poncho in sky blue that looked like a fishnet.
