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THEY SAT AROUND THE square dining room table, having indulged in pie, ice cream, and too much coffee, while Victor regaled them with his version of how he and Juliette met. He described pulling her over, not once, but twice in so many weeks, and when he teased her about quacking at him the second time, she explained her recent duck obsession to all of them, right down to the fuzzy, pink bathrobe part.
"It's my favorite outfit on you," Victor remarked. Juliette rolled her eyes.
"Only because it's practically the only outfit you've ever seen me in."
Beneath the table Victor's knee kept bumping hers, and she thrilled at the sensation that swept through her every time it did. She wondered if she'd be able to stand on her own two feet by the time the evening was over. Perhaps she'd just float instead.
"Aren't you glad we didn't let you talk us into leaving you at church?" Michelle toyed with her fork, making swirling designs in the remains of the chocolate mousse on her plate.
"I was pretty pitiful, wasn't I, all curled up in a fetal position, crying like a baby."
"Church is a good place to cry, Juliette." Victor reached over to brush her cheek with the back of his fingers. She froze at his unexpected gesture, and a brief silence fell around the table.
"Okay, then." Michelle laughed and pushed her chair back, preparing to rise. "I think I'll wash up these dishes."
"Oh! Let me help," Juliette said, pushing her own chair back. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her cheek felt singed where he'd touched her, and she could tell by the look on his face, that he was just as startled as she was over his caress. Michelle carried the pies, while Juliette gathered up the plates and forks and took them to the sink. She was glad to put a little space between her and Victor. She needed to catch her breath.
"So Juliette," Tom called from the table. "Victor tells us you have sisters."
The sink was in the kitchen island, so she stood facing the men while she rinsed the dishes. "I do. Three of them. I'm the oldest, then there's Renata, Phoebe, and Gia, in that order."
"Any brothers?"
"No brothers. Just us Gustafson girls."
"Hear that, Vic?" Tom raised his wiry brows at his friend. "Victor here is afraid of sisters. Especially his own."
"The big brave policeman is afraid of a couple of girls?" It was easier to talk at a distance, she decided.
"Sisters in particular," Victor clarified. "My sisters, your sisters, even sisters in habits and head gear. They all scare me."
"Oh dear." Juliette wondered if he wasn't just a little bit serious. She could imagine the G-FOURce might intimidate a man.
"He also mentioned that you know Trevor Zander," Michelle said from behind her. Juliette glanced over at Victor in surprise, wondering how much he'd told them before tonight. His just smiled and shrugged.
"Yes, my sister, Gia, is friends with Ricky Nolan, Trevor's cousin."
"Your sister introduced you two?"
Juliette blushed, wondering just how much Victor had said. Why was Michelle asking about her connections to Trevor? "Well, not exactly." She didn't know how to explain the Monday ManDates; it was a subject they'd skirted around all evening, but now she didn't see how to avoid it. "She kind of set us up on a blind date."
"A blind date? With our Trevor Zander? Really?" Michelle questioned, her tone laced with disbelief.
"Is there more to this story than you're telling us?" Tom was taking his cues from Victor now, who was nodding and rolling his eyes.
"Okay. That's good enough, ducky," Michelle teased, taking the dishrag from Juliette. "Come sit. If this story is half as good as how you two met, then I want to hear it."
So over the dregs of the coffee, Juliette told them very briefly about the termination of her relationship with Mike and the subsequent forced participation in her sisters' family trips, date nights, and parties. "It would have been much less awkward if I had children, or a date of my own, right?"
By the time she had explained the Monday ManDates intervention plan, and was indulging them with details of her evening with Frisky Frank, they were laughing uproariously.
When she got to her date with Trevor, however, she became shy, not sure how to describe one of the most pivotal nights of her life.
"It was one of the nicer dates I've had in a long time," she explained lamely, trying to come up with a word besides 'amazing' to describe it. "I rode on his motorcycle, and that was a first for me. It was very exhilarating. Anyway, at the end of the evening, we went back to my condo to share a box of desserts I had stashed just in case it was a lame date."
Victor was eying her, the look on his face incomprehensible.
"We were sitting outside on the front steps. Just...just talking. About stuff. About Gia and Ricky. About his music. And then...." She faltered.
"Then I showed up and sparks flew." Juliette had opened her mouth to continue, but snapped it shut at his admission.
"Oh my!" Michelle murmured, her eyes wide with interest. "Did you two boys duel?"
"Unfortunately, no. I wasn't honorable enough. I had made some assumptions about Juliette." He slid a reassuring hand over to rest on her knee where it warmed her flesh through the fabric of her pants, but this time his expression assured her the gesture was intentional. "And I made a fool of myself. Trevor came by later that night. Needless to say, it was a pleasant time had by all."
"Well, Victor, you really know how to ruin a party, don't you?" Michelle reached across the table and patted his cheek. "I'm glad to see you've eaten some humble pie, not just French Silk and Key Lime. And I'm glad you, Juliette, decided to forgive him his bad behavior. Otherwise, we might never have met you and that would be the biggest disaster of all. We already like you a lot more than we like him," she said, tipping her head toward Victor.
Juliette smiled and tentatively placed her hand on top of his where it still rested on her leg. He turned his over and laced his fingers with hers, and she held her breath as a delicious sensation coursed through her.
"I like her a lot more than I like me, too," Victor agreed.
Half an hour later, Juliette noticed Tom yawning. She and Victor said their goodbyes to the Petersons with the promise of future pie-fests, and as Michelle gave her a quick hug, she tucked a slip of paper into her hand. "This is my phone number if you feel like you need to talk to someone. I'll be praying for you, for wisdom about the things that the Holy Spirit was whispering to you tonight in church."
Juliette thanked her again, and Victor helped her into his car. She smiled to herself at the sensible charcoal interior, thinking how well it suited him.
He pulled up along the curb in front of her place and turned off the engine, then shifted in his seat to face her. "Juliette." How she loved the way he said her name. "I had a great time tonight."
"I did too. And I like your friends. They're good people."
"I'd like to see you again," he said, without further preamble. He reached for her hand, twining his fingers with hers, tracing small circles on her palm with his thumb.
"I'd like that, too." She thought she should say more, but she couldn't concentrate while his thumb was doing that.
"I work nights, so it's not very convenient for dinner dates."
"That's good."
"What do you mean?"
Juliette tugged her hand out of his. "I—I'm sorry. I can't think when you're doing that," she admitted, fumbling for the door handle. "I think I need some air."
Victor grinned and came around to her side of the car, locking it up once she was out. "You okay?" he asked, standing a little too closely for comfort, but she nodded. There was more room out here, more air.
Then he reached for her hand again, and together they walked to her front door. When she began fumbling with her keys, he took them from her. "Let me."
She waited silently while he unlocked her door and pushed it open. He didn't move though, but stood blocking the entrance with his large frame.
"Listen, Juliette." His tone was suddenly serious. "The Petersons are like family to me, so the fact that you liked them means a lot to me." He reached up and brushed her cheek again the same way he'd done earlier, but this time he turned his hand around so he was cupping her face. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feel of his roughened palm against her skin. "It would also mean a lot to me if I thought you liked me a little, too."
His words and his touch gave her courage, and she stepped forward to place her hand on his chest, her fingers lightly brushing across a white button near his collar. "I do like the Petersons, but I was there tonight because of you, Victor." She looked up into his eyes and smiled, bold and shy at the same time.
Victor let go of the door and covered her hand with one of his, pressing it hard over his pounding heart. "Can you feel it? That's because of you, Juliette." His voice was husky as he echoed her words. He dipped his head and rested his forehead on hers, his eyes closed. She smiled to herself, feeling the pulse of his body against her palm. Victor slid his free arm around her, his hand pressing into the dip at the base of her spine, pulling her the last few inches toward him. Heat spread through her body as she let herself relax against him, and she sighed, a soft exhalation of the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. He held her there, one arm around her, the other still pressing her hand to his chest, as he swayed a little, back and forth, moving to a melody only he could hear.
Finally he spoke, softly, gently. "I'm going to leave now." His abrupt words surprised her at first, but then she realized they were at an impasse. Neither wanted the night to end, and both knew it had to. She was glad to let him take the lead.
She stepped out of his embrace and put her hands up to her warm cheeks. "Good night, then, Officer Jarrett." She nodded, a happy smile on her face.
"Good night, Ms. Gustafson." His expression was a mirror of hers.
She went inside, closed the door and leaned against it. Her chest was so tight it almost hurt to breathe, but it was a wonderful pain, and she sighed, reveling in her suffering. She crossed to the window to watch him leave, and her brow furrowed in confusion.
Victor stood on the sidewalk beside his car, twirling his keys on his finger. He stared at her house for the longest time, then turned and made his way around to the driver's side of the car and opened the door. He stood inside the open door for a few moments, looking back at the house, then stepped away from the car, and let the door swing closed again. Back up on the sidewalk he came and started up the walk a few steps, before turning around again, and going back to his car. This time he climbed in and pulled the door shut behind him. But he still didn't start it up; he just sat there in the parked vehicle.
For the life of her she couldn't figure out what he was doing. She was just beginning to think there might be something wrong with the car when he started it up and pulled away.
Suddenly, the car swerved back toward the curb in front of Mrs. Cork's place, jerked to a stop, and Victor threw open the door and climbed out. He slammed it behind him and marched up the sidewalk, up the walkway toward her door, his long strides covering the distance in record time. He cleared all three steps in one leap.
She pulled the door open and they stood, facing each other, her eyes large with uncertainty, his intense, almost fierce.
Then he moved, stepping into her, his hands cupping her face, drawing her body up against him as he lowered his mouth to hers.
She didn't resist, not even for a moment, as he kissed her, gently at first, his lips pressed against hers, then with more fervor, as he felt her lean into him, opening to him.
When she let out a soft sigh, he abruptly released her as though she'd reprimanded him. He stepped back, his hands hanging limply at his sides. He stared at her, his face pale.
"Juliette." His voice broke off, like his throat was being squeezed. She stood in the middle of the entry, afraid to move lest her legs give out from under her, and stared back at him. Then she felt her own throat tightening, and heat beginning to creep up her neck. Her nose started to tingle and she knew she was going to cry.
"Juliette," he groaned, realizing it too, and he moved toward her once more, taking her in his arms again, and cradling her to him, one large hand at the back of her head, holding her against his chest as her tears fell. "I'm so sorry," he muttered. "I'm sorry."
Finally, without pulling away, he whispered, "Did I hurt you?"
"No." She felt his relief as his body relaxed, and he rested his cheek on the top of her head.
"I don't understand what's happening to me, Juliette. I couldn't leave. I tried." He stroked her back absentmindedly, comforting them both. "I can't seem to find my footing when I'm around you. You make me act a little insane, and that's not fair because it sounds like I'm blaming you for my lack of self-control. I know it's not your fault, but I don't act like this around anyone else. I didn't mean to scare you, but I'm a little scared myself."
"You didn't scare me," she murmured.
"Then why are you crying?"
She paused. "I'm embarrassed to say," she finally replied.
"Come on, Juliette. Tell me what I did to make you cry." He tipped her face up with a finger under her chin. "Please."
"You didn't do anything wrong, believe me. I cry when I'm happy, too. It's just that you make me feel—I feel—I don't know. I feel beautiful tonight, and I haven't felt that way in a long time." Her words faded to a whisper and she pulled her chin out of his grasp, pressing a burning cheek to his chest again.
Victor leaned back a little. "Juliette, look at me." He waited until she lifted her eyes to his. "You are beautiful." He brought one hand back up to cup her face again. "You are so beautiful." His thumb rubbed gently along her cheekbone, his long fingers tangled in the hair behind her ear, and his eyes stayed open, watching her as he lowered his head again, and kissed her ever so sweetly on the lips, on the nose, on each eye, then back to her mouth, where he whispered, "You are beautiful."
She submitted to his tender assault, kissing him back when he let her, nibbling at his lips when they lingered long enough on hers.
Finally, he lifted his head, his gaze heavy in a way that warmed her blood even more, and he stepped back, taking her hands in his. He brought first one, then the other, to his lips, and placed a tender kiss on the knuckles of each. His voice vibrated when he spoke. "I should leave now."
She nodded, not trusting her own voice.
"Goodnight, Juliette."
"Goodnight, Victor."
He turned and made his way down the walk to his car, climbed in, and drove away. She closed the door and locked it, knowing he would not return tonight.
