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Her toenails were painted a matching shade the color of twenty-four carats and the whole outfit made her look expensive but approachable.
And yet, oddly nervous.
He put out his hand to still her fingers, flattening them against her warm thigh. She twitched at his touch, and he slanted her a glance. “Why so tense?”
“I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Yeah?” With a final pat, he slid his hand off hers and gripped the steering wheel again. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
His sleep had been shitty, too. He’d kept dreaming of Juliet’s fingertips drifting down the bare skin of his chest, leaving four hot, pulsing brands in their wake. Then his eyes would open and he’d find himself in his dark bedroom, alone. After a groan, he’d bury his head in the pillow…and hope to find his way right back to where the dream had left off.
“What kept you up?” he asked.
“I had a lot on my mind. This, especially.”
He glanced over. “This…lunch? You and I sharing a meal?”
Her face flushed. “I mean meeting my sisters again today. I didn’t spend much time with them last night. After their initial revelation, I just turned and walked out of the shop. Shell-shocked, I guess.”
They’d reached the Pacific Coast Highway. Noah turned left on PCH, following Juliet’s directions. Malibu & Ewe, the business owned by Cassandra Riley, shared a parking lot situated on a bluff overlooking one of the area’s famous—and surf-friendly—south-facing beaches. When they pulled in, he realized that the adjoining business to the yarn shop was an eatery he’d noted on his own previous explorations.
His eyebrows rose as he pulled into a parking spot. “This is where you want to have lunch?” It was more his kind of place than hers, with the appetite-tempting smell of something sizzling in a deep fryer already reaching his truck. There was a small number of tables within the café proper, and then a stand-alone shelter harboring plastic-covered picnic tables. “I don’t think it runs to Asiatic pear and goat cheese salads.”
She wrinkled her nose, which made her look fifteen. “Goat cheese. Yuck.”
He laughed, and then followed her from the car and toward the restaurant’s screened door. Even though it was October, here in Southern California the temperature was summer-warm, the sky clear, and the view spectacular. The sound of the surf hitting the sand below mixed with the cars whooshing by along the coastal highway.
Inside, she claimed a table next to a window while he ordered at the counter, lingering there to wait for the fish tacos—his—and the shrimp salad—Juliet’s choice. With a smile, he watched her pull a paper napkin from the table’s holder to brush the plastic surface free of unseen crumbs. Then she plucked plasticware from a foam cup and grabbed other napkins to set them each a place at the table. Such a lady.
To a guy who’d eaten MREs from a ditch dug beside a Stryker combat vehicle, and who’d found those haute cuisine compared to some of his childhood meals, it was no wonder he was fascinated by her fastidious habits and elegant appearance. The slightest whiff of her top-shelf perfume could make his head spin.
When he slid their tray of food on the table and dropped into his plastic seat, she was staring out the window across the parking lot. In the direction of Malibu & Ewe.
He moved her paper plate and iced tea in front of her. “Should we have gone over there before lunch?”
“I don’t mind putting it off a little longer.” She drew her drink toward her with a frown.
“Juliet, no law says you have to have further contact with these women, legitimate claim to sisterhood or not.”
“You want the truth?” Her gaze lifted to his.
There were those eyes of hers, arresting in their difference, and just as arresting by their own individual quality. One was as blue as a desert sky, the other the green that he’d dreamed about all those months of his deployment, when sand had been his second skin. “Sure I want the truth.”
“Part of me is excited. Startled, sure, and I’m going to proceed with caution, I promise you, but if I’m honest, I’d have to say I’m a bit thrilled at the idea of siblings.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Thrilled?”
She nodded. “My two best friends don’t live in the area. One’s a new mom in Seattle and my friend Kim’s opening a dance studio in London. It would be nice to have some people nearby who are on my side.”
She said it as if she was all alone in the world. “What, I’m not people?” He tried smiling, but it felt forced. She was always so composed: He hadn’t considered how lonely she might be. Or how lousy he might feel hearing that he wasn’t enough for her.
