Chapter Twelve

Grant covered her mouth with his again and everything inside of him vibrated as his heart beat a rapid staccato against his sternum. Heat pooled in his midsection, radiating slowly outward until his entire body was warm and tingling. Her lips were soft and tasted like strawberries. He threaded his fingers into her hair and cupped her head, the silken threads cool and slippery in his hands.

He slid his tongue over her lower lip and she gasped. Grant took advantage of the opening and deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth carefully, deliberately, and fully. His pulse began to climb as the heat from her kiss and her proximity invaded parts of his body that would soon tell her just how much he wanted her. Given what she’d been through he knew he needed to rein himself in, to go slowly. Problem was he didn’t want to rein himself in or go slowly. He wanted to throw caution to the winds, throw her across his king-sized bed, and drown in her.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this, and the awareness startled him. Even with Laine there had never been this visceral rush of emotion, sensations that invaded even the most closely guarded parts of him and urged him to release the reins he kept in such tight control. The few kisses he’d shared with Laine, the ones that hadn’t been friendly and chaste, had been passionate. However, the passion he’d experienced with Laine and the blazing, combustible fervor Juliet roused in him were vastly different, taking passion to an entirely new level. A chill of fear fanned through him as he realized he was in uncharted territory. Up until now he had thought the life he’d lived had prepared him for everything. He had been wrong.

“Ahem.”

Grant jerked away from her and Juliet let out a soft yelp of surprise. He immediately pushed her behind him and reached for his gun, his protective instincts in full gear. When he realized it was just Mike standing on top of the hotel steps he dropped his chin, planted his hands on his hips, and exhaled sharply.

“Damn it,” he said. “You should know better than to sneak up on me like that. I could’ve shot your ass, and then Miss Nicole would tear me a new one.”

Mike chuckled. “Sorry. I was in the kitchen getting some hot cocoa when I heard the door open and close . . . twice.” A wry grin warmed his face and lit a twinkle in his eyes. “Gabe is on his break so I thought I should check it out.”

Grant grinned and shook his head. Juliet stood behind him, her face pressed into the spot between his shoulder blades, her fingers hooked through his belt loops.

“It’s okay, Juliet,” he said, “it’s just Big Mike.”

Juliet didn’t move. “Sorry we bothered you, Mike,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“It’s no bother, Juliet,” Mike replied, laughter rumbling in his chest. “I’m going back to bed now and you two . . . carry on.”

Grant waited until Mike closed the door behind him, and then he turned to face Juliet. Her arms wound around his waist and she laid her head on his chest.

“Well, that was . . . embarrassing,” she said softly.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. “Just be glad it was Big Mike and not Paulette. At least that way the town won’t be gearing up for a double-wedding.”

“Hear, hear.”

Grant rested his chin atop her head and they stood like this. The tranquility of night in Evergreen enfolded them like a comforting mantle, heavy and warm, but not suffocating. He closed his eyes, let the stillness soak in, and tried to wrap his head around what was happening between them.

The fact that Juliet was shaking the cornerstones of his foundations made him nervous. She challenged the very fabric of who he was: levelheaded, even-keeled, logical, and by-the-book. He had never believed in fairy-tales, had even scoffed at them as a child. The diametric opposition between the mantras of love-at-first-sight and love-is-blind had always bothered him, and happily-ever-after was something that only happened in books. His parents had a wonderful marriage, had been married more than 40 years, but even in that rock-solid relationship reality had intruded to dispel the myths of childhood fables.

And yet, he couldn’t deny what he felt. He’d known Juliet not even two full days, but he knew if it came to it he would sacrifice himself for her. It made no sense logically, or even practically, but there it was. Was he in love with her? He wasn’t sure, but what bothered him more was the fact that he could not reply with an unequivocal no.

“Grant?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you thinking?”

He smiled. He couldn’t count how many times Sherri had asked him that very question and he had replied, in all honesty, “Nothing.” That had frustrated his ex no end. Now, however, he couldn’t reply the same and still be honest. Always preferring truth to fiction, Grant decided to just put it out there.

“I’m thinking about how crazy this all is.”

“How crazy what is? My life or what’s happening between us?”

He chuckled softly and laid his cheek against her hair. “Both, but more the latter.” He felt her breath on his skin as she sighed softly, and shivers coursed through him.

“Good,” she whispered. “Then I’m not the only one.”

“No, ma’am.”

He tried to concentrate on something other than the feel of her pressed against him, the scent of her hair, and the warmth of her breath on the skin exposed by the open neck of his button-down shirt. Heat shot through him and he felt it in his groin. Grant gulped and fought it. He had no desire to embarrass himself . . . or her.

“It’s late,” he finally said, unable to think of anything better. “You’re going to need some rest before tomorrow, so you should probably go inside.”

“I’m happy right here, thank you.”

She snuggled closer and he groaned inwardly as his body responded with enthusiasm. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, and his libido roared to the forefront to remind him just how long. Grant ground his teeth together. He took several deep breaths and tried not to tense up with her in his arms. He knew she would ask him what was wrong, and he didn’t want to have to explain it, not right now.

“I’m happy where you are, too,” he admitted, “but you’re not the only one who needs some sleep. Didn’t get much last night and today was a pretty long day for me, for you as well.”

She lifted her eyes to his and his gaze was drawn to those beautiful lips against his will. They were skillfully chiseled, delicate but ripe and made to be kissed. He wanted to kiss her again, to explore the warmth of her mouth and hear her sigh as she leaned into him. Truth be told, he wanted to do way more than kiss her.

He forced himself to look her in the eyes, but what he saw there did nothing to put out the firestorm inside him. Quite the opposite in fact. Those blue-green pools called to him the way sirens called to sailors, and he felt his will wavering. Come lose yourself in me . . . I want you to. Surrender to my song and crash upon my rocks. Grant dragged his gaze from those shimmering turquoise orbs, although he almost didn’t have the strength to do so.

“Juliet—”

She pressed a hand to his cheek and turned his face to hers. “One more kiss,” she whispered, “then I’ll go inside.”

He steeled himself. “Without Mike to interrupt us . . . one more kiss could be dangerous.”

Her expression was solemn. “I know,” she said in a low, honeyed voice, “but aren’t these the moments we live for?” She traced the line of his jaw and her gaze wandered to his mouth. “The times our hearts race and our minds blank out and we want to just go with it, consequences be damned?”

“What about possible repercussions of ‘just going with it’?” He forced himself to meet her eyes. “My father taught me a long time ago that a few moments of pleasure are rarely worth the price, no matter how much we want that pleasure in the moment.”

Pink surged into her cheeks and she ducked her chin. “I seriously doubt you’re going to ravish me on the steps of the hotel if we share one more kiss.”

He chuckled. “No, but if we share one more kiss I may very well toss you over my shoulder, carry you upstairs, and ravish you in your room.” He paused. “I know exactly which one it is.”

Her head snapped up. “Mike and Nicole—”

“Wouldn’t stop me,” he interrupted, “unless you gave them some indication you didn’t want to be carried up those stairs.” He brushed a wind-caught tendril of hair from her face and tucked it securely behind her ear. His fingers moved slowly from the sensitive lobe downward over her throat, and he smiled at her indrawn breath. “They might not think as highly of me afterwards, but we’re both adults.”

Her color deepened, but she met his gaze boldly. “And if I want you to carry me upstairs?”

The draw was instantaneous and he had to struggle to pull in the surge of lust that threatened to overwhelm him. He was not the kind of man who let passion cloud his better judgment, but she was damn close to turning him into one.

He shook his head slowly and stepped back from her. “Bullshit your sister is better at this.”

She blinked at him.

“You have no idea how much I want you, how much I want to take you upstairs right now,” he said to her unspoken question, “but I won’t.” He thrust his hands in his pockets and forced his libido back into its place behind his common sense and fortitude. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath. “There’s only one first time with a woman, Juliet. Call it pride, call it ego, call it whatever you want, but I like to know that when a woman I’ve made love to remembers me, she does so with a smile and the burning desire to see me again.”

She only stared at him, those beautiful blue eyes wide and incredulous.

Grant choked down his frustration and looked over the square. “Sorry if that disappoints you.”

“Wow.” When he looked at her a small smile curved her mouth, her expression pensive. “Where have you been all my life?”

He didn’t want to smile but his face didn’t care. “Waitin’ on you.”

She bit her lip and although he wanted to kiss her to make her stop he held himself in check. Her eyelids fluttered and then she did something that completely floored him.

Juliet rose on her tiptoes, grabbed his head, and pressed her mouth to his in a kiss that seared him to his soul. Before he could stop himself his arms enfolded her. He closed his eyes and lifted her against his chest. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it ended.

“Good night, Grant,” she said in a hushed voice as she pushed out of his embrace.

He was too startled to move. It wasn’t until the hotel’s main door closed with a soft thump that he came back to reality. He shook his head to clear it, then turned and looked at the hotel’s façade.

“I don’t know your sister,” he said to the brick building, “but I seriously doubt she’s better at that than you are.” With another shake of his head he walked back to the Yukon.

Juliet leaned against the door and took several long, gulping breaths. Her pulse pattered uncomfortably against her esophagus and her insides quivered uncontrollably, lips tingling and aching for more.

Way to go, Juliet. And here I didn’t think you had it in you.

“Give it a rest, Cass,” Juliet said under her breath. “Just stop.”

Thankfully, Cassie said nothing else. Juliet heard the Yukon’s engine roar to life and tears stung. She didn’t want to go upstairs to her room; she wanted to go home with him. Closing her eyes she pressed her hands into the carved wood and waited until she could no longer hear the SUV. Drawing in a ragged breath, she glanced at the night clerk. The man named Gabe was watching her with far too much interest, and she scowled as she pushed away from the door.

Juliet bounded up the stairs, as if by running she could outrun what had just happened on the sidewalk in front of the Center Hotel. It didn’t work, and it took all she had not to call him and beg him to come back. It was crazy, but he’d only been gone a couple of minutes and already she missed him.

Relax, big sister. You’ll see him in the morning.

She opened her door and slipped inside the brightly appointed room.

“I know,” she said as she tossed herself across the bed, “but I’d rather wake up to him in the morning . . . every morning.”

Whoa, hold on. Are you falling for this guy? You, Juliet Hall, whose only loves are ballet and the beach, is falling for a small-town sheriff? Granted, he’s more appetizing than a plate of hot chocolate chip cookies, but oh. My. Gosh. Now I’ve seen everything.

Juliet ignored the imaginary voice of her dead sister and got ready for bed. After slipping between the sheets she turned her extra pillow and pretended it was Grant’s chest. She laid there, her fingers stroking over the soft, cotton pillowcase, wishing with everything inside her it was him, but there was simply no substitute. The plush cushion was far too soft to be Grant’s chest, it didn’t smell like him, it wasn’t warm, and it didn’t have hands that could stroke her skin in return. The pillow was Pepsi and she wanted Coca-Cola - the real thing.

Frustrated, she rolled over and turned her back on her pillow Grant. A glance at the digital clock told her it was nearly 12:30 a.m. Even though she was tired, she knew she would lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours.

Her cell phone rang and she jumped. Frowning, she grabbed the gadget from the bedside table and her heart rocketed into her throat when she saw Grant’s caller ID. She blinked several times, certain she was imagining things. She wasn’t. She pushed the button and held the device to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

She couldn’t stop the smile and settled into the pillows. “No. I wasn’t even close to asleep.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I have a feeling it’ll be a while before the sandman visits my house.”

“Me, too.”

“We could talk for a bit.”

Juliet giggled. “That sounds like something lovesick teenagers do, talk on the phone all night until they fall asleep.”

“I don’t know about you . . . but I sort of feel like a lovesick teenager.” He chuckled softly and the sound traveled through the phone and her. “Crazy, huh?”

Her throat closed up and it took her a moment to free her voice. “I, um, I wouldn’t know. Cassie had plenty of experience with that, but I’ve never actually been a lovesick teenager.”

“That’s right,” he said with another soft laugh, “you were too busy with ballet lessons and Juilliard for things like puppy love weren’t you?”

“I was.” She squeezed her eyes shut and for the first time in her life wished she’d grown up differently. Maybe if she’d had a normal childhood and teenage experience, she wouldn’t feel so out of sorts. “However, I’m beginning to understand the appeal. And here I thought only performing gave me butterflies and tingles.”

“I give you butterflies and tingles?”

Her heart thumped. “You do.” She frowned. “But, shouldn’t that worry me? I mean, if this is just puppy love, doesn’t that mean it’s doomed?”

“God, I hope not.”

She smiled so widely it felt like her face would crack. “Me, too.”

The line was quiet for a few moments.

“I suppose the lightning fast way you came out that door means you were watching me through the window.”

“I was.” She rolled onto her side and pulled her pillow Grant closer. “I was wondering what I did wrong, why you didn’t want to kiss me.”

He laughed. “Believe me, that was not the problem. I wanted to kiss you . . . more than I’ve wanted to kiss any woman in my life.”

The words popped out. “Even Laine?” She winced and cursed herself. “Grant, I’m sorry—”

“Even Laine.”

That brought her up short. “Really?” The single word came out in a breathless rush.

“Really.” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the quiet conviction in his tone. “Laine set the bar, Juliet, but you leapt right over it, with skillful ease and unparalleled grace I might add.”

She gulped. “Well . . . nobody’s really set the bar in my life . . . until now.” Her heart started a steady ka-thump against her breastbone. “But, I don’t think even my best partner would be able to clear that height.” Her cheeks flamed. “When you set the bar, Grant, you set it really high. It would probably be easier if they just jumped out of an airplane to get over it rather than trying to do that from the ground.”

Another brief silence passed.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m glad you decided to go with me to the fair,” he said after a short pause.

She laughed softly. “The way things are going I just may be your date for Shelby’s wedding.”

“If I thought you’d say yes I’d have already asked.”

That ka-thump picked up its pace. “Why don’t we wait until after the fair? I’ll be much more agreeable with a funnel cake under my belt.”

“I’ll buy you ten.”

A chuckle escaped her. “Don’t do that. I have enough trouble dancing on my toes being as tall and as heavy as I am.”

“I’m sorry, did you say heavy?” His incredulity was apparent, even if she couldn’t see his face. “What do you weigh . . . about 120?”

Juliet rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and I’m 5’7”.”

“In case you were unaware, that actually makes you underweight for your height by normal standards.”

“I don’t live by normal standards,” she replied. “For your information, most ballerinas are between 5’2” and 5’6”, and weigh 90-110 pounds.” She pouted. “I actually weigh in at about 112 during performance season. Dancers who weigh less are lighter on their feet and are easier for their partners to lift.”

He whistled softly. “Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’re perfect just like you are and if you put on a few pounds . . . ? I could still lift you, and you’d still be perfect.”

Warmth enveloped her and she closed her eyes. “No, you’re perfect.”

The line went quiet for about ten seconds, and then they both said:

“I wish you were here right now.”

They laughed and when the chuckles died down Juliet sighed softly.

“Tell me about yourself, Grant.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Hmm.” He paused. “That’s a lot of territory to cover.”

“Then you’d better start talking.”

When they finally said goodbye it was after 2 a.m. Among other things she now knew he had an older sister and brother. The former was a school teacher and the latter worked for the county planning commission. They all lived just outside of town, on opposite sides, but their respective careers kept them from seeing each other as often as they would have liked. He had a half-dozen nieces and nephews and numerous cousins, all of whom lived within a few hours of Evergreen. Juliet envied their familial closeness, and their proximity to each other.

After she left for Juilliard nearly 10 years passed before she returned to the West Coast. Seeing her parents and Cassie had been a twice-a-year thing at most during her stint in New York, and only if they came to see her. That was part of the reason she’d left the Big Apple to become a principal at Ballet Northwest in Seattle. It was an easy flight to Seattle from San Diego, and once Cassie was accepted at the company she and Juliet were inseparable. The sisters saw their parents every few months, but having Cassie as her roommate had been the cherry on top of her career-in-Seattle sundae. Not once had she regretted the move.

Grant had promised to introduce her to his siblings the first chance he had. It was obvious family meant a lot to him, just as it did to her. She didn’t think it was possible, but she liked him even more than she had before their late night phone call. And they’d already made a date to do it again the following evening, and it would be her turn to talk.

Juliet smiled and snuggled against her pillow Grant. It wasn’t him, but she could pretend.

I have to say, Jules, I envy you.

She yawned. “You . . . envy me? How so?”

Oh, I don’t know. You went to Juilliard and danced with the American Ballet Theater while I stayed in Cali and danced with a small ballet company in La Jolla.

“That was your choice, Cass. You didn’t want to go to Juilliard and, unlike me, Mom didn’t make you audition.”

I know, but still. You were a principal at Northwest while I stayed in the ensemble. You perform like you were born to the stage, you never lose a jump competition, and it all comes naturally. You don’t even have to practice.

Juliet’s eyes snapped open. “Hey! I practice. I practice all the time.”

I know, I’m just giving you a hard time, but now you’ve really outdone me. You’ve got yourself a keeper with Sheriff Donovan, sister. Out of all the auditions I held, I never met a man worthy to clean his gun. Tell me, would you be willing to give up dancing to stay with him?

Juliet thought about that for a moment. “I don’t know.”

You may want to think about it, Jules. That choice may head your way faster than you know.

“I can’t think about that now, okay? I don’t want to think about that.”

Completely understandable. Good night, Juliet.

“Good night, Cass.”

Sleep well and dream of your man. I love you.

“Love you too, little sister.”