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Noah’s head whipped around. Gabe. Last thing Noah remembered, Gabe had been engrossed in his tiff with the Malibu & Ewe owner, but now the other man stood alone, his gaze trained on Juliet and Cassandra who stood talking by the cash register.
Noah’s chest hurt. “I called it—” Lust. “And I wanted to protect her.” I still want to protect her, hold her, support her, keep her safe.
Oh, God.
Gabe offered no sympathy or solution, just turned his attention from the women to Noah. His expression was a mixture of pity and humor. “Life’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
I could have told you it was much more than “just sex” the first time I saw you with her.
Noah’s vague disquiet billowed and strengthened, then rolled in from the corners of his mind to fill his head, cold and damp and damn uncomfortable.
He knew the reason for it now, at least, but had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
What to do about being in love with Juliet.
Hell. Hell. He looked with longing toward the balcony and the dark night outside. Could a little cold air cure him?
Juliet closed out the register, her mood as high as the receipts from Knitters’ Night. Stretching her arms overhead, she eased the kinks out of her back and wondered how long such euphoria could last. Nothing remained forever, of course—and if she thought too hard she could feel guilty for such gladness—but though winter was coming on, her soul detected spring. She could feel herself unfurling toward a warm sun and growing roots in fertile soil.
Her sisters were the source of some of the feeling: They were the nourishing earth. As for the warm sun—she looked around for Noah, but he’d disappeared onto the deck outside with Gabe. So she called over to Cassandra, sprawled on one of the couches beside Nikki. “Great night.”
When the last customer had left the shop at the conclusion of the Knitters’ Night hours, her sister had kicked off her shoes. Now she had her feet propped on the low table in front of her. Inside her striped, handknit socks she wiggled her toes. “It’s the time of year. Everyone has a project to finish, needs a project to distract her from the craziness that’s coming with the season, or just wants a little personal downtime.”
Like Juliet had done a few minutes before, Cassandra lifted her arms over her head. “I’m exhausted.”
Nikki didn’t look up from the sweater she was knitting for Jay. “I don’t know why you should be. Juliet rang up all the customers.”
“Best nine bucks and change an hour I ever spent.” Cassandra said, her voice smug.
Nikki’s needles dropped and her eyebrows lowered as she frowned at the middle sister. “You cheapskate! Is that even minimum wage?”
Juliet laughed. “But I get a deep discount, too.” She dropped onto the couch opposite the others. “And I like having something to do.”
“You want something to do, you can come work for me. I said ‘yes’ to a couple of private catering jobs and now I’m swamped. Everyone wants to host a holiday party this year.”
Juliet’s high-flying mood dipped. That’s right. The holidays were coming. Last year, they’d come and gone without her even noticing, her grief so deep that not a whiff of turkey or a note of Christmas carol had penetrated.
This year, with the grief abating and her protective shell gone, too, loneliness would pierce her straight to the heart. At the thought, she felt her shoulders hunch forward a little, as if to ward off the chilliness invading her.
She looked up, a little desperate. “I want you at my house for Thanksgiving,” she announced to her sisters. Her voice sounded a bit too loud, but at least the invitation was out there. She held her breath.
Was it too presumptuous? They’d only known each other a short time and it would be natural for the two to have already made other plans.
Nikki didn’t pause in her knitting. “Thank God. I thought it was going to have to be me and Jay, and not only is he completely useless in the kitchen, but I have parties I’m catering the day before and the day after. I’ll bring the turkey and the dressing, though.”
Cassandra’s head rested on the cushions and her eyes were closed. Her body didn’t stir. “Sounds good to me. I volunteer for some vegetable side dishes.”
Juliet released her air in a silent sigh as warmth blossomed inside her again. Her smile must be curving from ear to ear, she thought. “Great.”
“Fine.” Cassandra opened her eyes and beamed at Juliet, looking happy, too. “Really fine.”
They shared a moment of pleased communion . Then Cassandra crossed one ankle over the other. “And sign me up for pumpkin—”
