Beefcake & Retakes Read online

Page 11


  “What have you told them that I’ll need to know?”

  Juliet searched her memory for the cover-ups. “You had a lot of business trips to Napa and Vegas.”

  “They didn’t ask why I wasn’t working for your father?”

  “They did and I told them that you wanted to build your resume on your own and that other opportunities came up, so I stepped in to help Dad.”

  “Plausible, I guess. So what did you tell them I was doing?”

  “Importing and exporting. It was the only thing I could think of that would have you traveling so much and that I wouldn’t be expected to know the details of. And since I was in school and learning to run Dad’s company, it seemed to appease them. I mean, how much could I be expected to know about two businesses, right?” It had come in handy for everyone to think she was a ditzy blonde. She wasn’t—actually she wasn’t now—but before, her biggest aspiration had been to be Tanner’s wife and they’d all known it. She’d shocked them enough with the idea she was not only going to college but also going on to a master’s degree that it’d stopped them from asking too many questions about Tanner.

  “And now I’m in land deals.” Tanner scrubbed his jaw. “Yeah, I can make that work. Say I found an opportunity and headed in that direction.” He pushed off the wall and stretched his arms straight up over his head, raising the bottom of his t-shirt a few inches to reveal that washboard he called a stomach. “Well, hopefully, we won’t have any more surprise drop-ins. I actually really do need some shut-eye.” He dropped his arms. “Goodnight, Juliet.”

  She had to lick her lips before responding because that whole stretching thing… Wow. Just… wow. “Goodnight, Tanner.”

  Yes, she watched him walk back to his room. And, yes, she wished she were going with him.

  Exhaling, she made sure the front door was locked, flicked off the porch light, scooped the kitten off the chair but then realized she should move the litter box to her room so the little Houdini wouldn’t have to roam the house while she slept. The last thing she needed was to have to look for the kitten and run into Tanner in the middle of the night in the skimpy shorts and t-shirt that constituted her pajamas.

  Which, of course, was exactly what happened.

  Okay, so it wasn’t the middle of the night and she wasn’t yet in her pajamas, but when she came out of the laundry room, litter box under one arm, the kitten under the other, Tanner was coming around the corner from the kitchen with a glass of water in hand and, well…

  The litter box hit the ground, scattering little crunchy pieces of litter that, thankfully, hadn’t been used yet, followed closely by the glass of water, which shattered, and the kitten managed to leap out of her arms and dash into the living room without landing on the mess, preventing one disaster at least.

  “Damn!” Juliet wanted to stamp her foot but didn’t since she was barefoot and God only knew where the shards of glass were. All she’d wanted was to get into her room and away from Tanner, yet she’d literally run right into him.

  “Don’t move.” Tanner held up his hands. “Let me get something to clean this up.”

  “Be careful where you’re walking.”

  “I have slippers on. I’ll be fine. Where’s the broom?”

  “In the pantry closet to the left of the fridge. Dustpan is hanging on the inside of the door.” She leaned forward to flip the light switch on the corner of the wall. “Watch your eyes.”

  She ought to have watched hers. He’d taken off his t-shirt.

  She’d seen it all before—most notably a week ago—but nothing could prepare her for a half-naked Tanner in her home, at night, standing three feet from her, his hair all disheveled as if he’d run his fingers through it a few too many times.

  Or someone else had.

  No. He’d said he’d been faithful to his vows, and if there was one thing she’d taken from the mess of their past, it was that she could trust Tanner.

  “You okay?” Tanner came back around the corner, broom and dustpan in tow, looking way too good to be someone’s maid. “No shards on your feet?”

  “Can’t feel any.” Wasn’t exactly thinking about them, either. Not with him sweeping up the mess, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing nicely.

  “Okay, don’t move. I’m going to run the broom over your feet.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it.” She propped her palm against the wall and giggled a little when the bristles brushed her skin.

  “Still ticklish, huh?” He cocked his head to look at her, that grin of his doing not-so-funny things to her insides.

  “I don’t think you ever grow out of being ticklish.”

  He stared at her for a heartbeat or two, a couple of blinks happening before he looked away and she knew he was remembering the same thing she was. One night, after his parents had gone out, he’d invited her over, and they’d made a point of finding out just where each one’s ticklish zones were—and had discovered quite a few erogenous ones along the way.

  Thank God his parents had been gone for hours and her father had thought she was staying at Tricia’s. Tricia had been her alibi on so many occasions.

  She’d cried almost as hard when Tricia and her husband moved to North Dakota—of all places—as she had when Tanner had left her on that plane because it was one more person she loved leaving her.

  She cleared her throat and pasted a smile on her face. She wasn’t going to think about losing people. Tanner was here now and she didn’t want to be an emotional mess in front of him or he’d be glad to get her out of his life. No, she had to be the sunny, sparkling, fun and happy Juliet he’d known back before she’d started making poor decisions. Well-intentioned ones, but definitely ill-advised. That Juliet was someone he could fall in love with again.

  He cleared his throat, too, then hunkered down to sweep the mess into the dustpan. “Let me empty this and give it one more sweep before you move. Do you have a pair of slippers I can get for you?”

  “In the closet in my bedroom. Right side. They’re purple.”

  He smiled at her. “Of course they are.”

  She smiled back, the running joke putting them on the same page.

  He strode into her kitchen to empty the pan into the trash, then returned, giving a quick sweep over the floor. He set the dustpan on the kitchen countertop. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it.” Mainly because she got the going-away view.

  Those shorts did some very nice things to his backside. Or maybe it was his backside that did some very nice things to those shorts. Whatever the case, she wouldn’t mind removing the shorts and getting her hands on his backside.

  Her palms actually got tingly at the thought, and Juliet had to shake her head. Seven years of celibacy and the guy of her dreams was half-naked in her house and—

  “Found them.” He held up her silly pair of slippers—the ones with the tiaras on the toes that Nana had made her buy when she saw them advertised on television. Since they’d made Nana happy, Juliet had bought them.

  And with Tanner at her feet, slipping one on her foot like Prince Charming, they made her happy too.

  “Don’t need a bloody mess to clean up as well.” He tapped the back of her ankle and set her foot on the floor. “So now you can go in search of your kitten. I’ll refill the litter box. I’m assuming you were taking this into your room?’

  “Yes. I didn’t want her running around at night bothering you.”

  “Yes, this bother was so much better.” His smile took the sting out of his words as he pushed on his thighs to stand in front of her.

  Right in front of her.

  Time stopped. So did her breathing.

  Her heart, however, thundered in her ears.

  He was so close. Too close—no, not close enough. Not so close that she could wrap her arms around him and pull him up against her and kiss him until their knees gave out.

  Which hers were threatening to do.

  “Juliet…” Hi
s hand came up and for a second—a brief, hope-filled second—she thought he’d cup her head and draw her in for that kiss.

  Instead, his hand dropped back to his side, his biceps tightening as if he’d clenched his fists, and he took a step back.

  And another.

  “Go to bed, Juliet. Now.”

  Go to bed. Not come to bed. That one word made all the difference.

  She cleared her throat—again. “Goodnight, Tanner.” She sidestepped around him, careful not to brush up against even one hair on his forearm, then remembered she needed the litter box. “The litter—”

  He muttered something beneath his breath. She was going with “shit” or “dammit.”

  “I’ll bring it in. Go. Find the kitten.”

  She ran into her room and flicked on the light, looking around for—what? What was she supposed to find? Oh, the kitten. Right.

  “Here, baby.” She closed the door almost completely behind her, not wanting the kitten to escape. Bad enough she was going to have to face Tanner one more time over the litter; she didn’t need to have to do it chasing the kitten around. With her luck, the kitten would find her way into his room, and that would start another round of fantasies she didn’t want to have.

  “Here, kitty.” Juliet got down on her hands and knees to look under the bed.

  Nope. Not there. Great, another disappearing act. The kitten had chosen her own name: Houdini.

  Juliet opened the closet, moved her shoes around. The kitten was small enough she could have slipped into one of them.

  Then she heard a rustling noise behind her and she turned around. There was the little disappearing act, walking along the headboard, her paws shifting the books and magazines around.

  Juliet got to her feet then flopped onto her bed, reaching for her. “Come here, you cute little thing.” She scooped her up and rubbed her cheek with hers as she rolled over—

  Tanner stood in her doorway with a look on his face…

  She scrambled off her bed—then chastised herself. She should have stayed. Tempted him.

  “Here’s the litter.” He held up the box, his voice flat. Monotone. Tight. Unlike him.

  Maybe she did tempt him…

  “Um, thanks. Just put it down. I’ll figure out someplace to put it.”

  He did. Then he stood again, staring at her, and if Juliet wasn’t about to let hope get in the way of reality, she’d swear she saw a fire in his eyes.

  How well she remembered that fire. Had thought of it every day for the past seven years.

  “Goodnight.”

  That was three times he’d said it to her, but it didn’t mean it would be a good one.

  Because Tanner was going back to his room and she would be alone in hers.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tanner’s eyes flew open, the sunlight making him wince.

  He rubbed them, making the spots disappear, then looked at his surroundings.

  ThankyouJesus, he was still in his bed.

  Well, his bed in Juliet’s house.

  Tanner ran his hands over the sheets. Gripped the edge of the mattress.

  Ran his hand low on his abdomen.

  He was still in his shorts.

  Thank God. That dream he’d had had been just that: a dream.

  His hand moved lower and found…

  Okay, it’d been a wet dream, but still, a dream.

  But, damn it, why’d he have to dream about making love to Juliet?

  He shook his head, then looked around the room. How could he not have dreamed about Juliet? He was staying in her freaking house, for God’s sake, and the room was imprinted with her. Hell, the damn sheets smelled like her. And he was only twenty feet from her bedroom.

  He’d been in her room last night and it’d taken every ounce of fortitude he’d had in him to walk out. She’d been sprawled across her bed, her hair all messy—just the way he liked it—her legs—dear God, her legs—spread enough that he’d had a instant and perfect flashback to so many times he’d taken her that way…

  Damn it. He was getting hard again. He hadn’t had a wet dream in years, and his first night under the same roof with her, he had one. This was going to be a lot tougher to do than he’d thought because it was easy to forget he was angry with her when she wasn’t trying to play him.

  What about playing with you?

  He sat up. He needed to get out of bed now.

  And he needed another damn shower. After he fixed the showerhead.

  He grabbed his t-shirt that he should have kept on after going to bed, but he hadn’t expected her to be standing in the hallway right outside his room when he’d gone for a glass of water. And then, well, she had been and he’d made that comment about being ticklish, and, well… Hell. There were so many memories tangled up in Juliet that it was inevitable he’d stumble across at least one of them with an innocent remark.

  He grabbed his towel, draping it over his forearm and crossing that in front of him in case his little “nighttime emission” had left a telltale stain.

  Turned out, he needn’t have worried. Juliet had left him a note on the dining room table.

  Tanner ~

  Had to run into the office for a bit. The kitten is in the laundry room with the litter box. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Griddle is in the cabinet to the right of the stove. I remember how you liked pancakes. I should be home around two if you still want to go to Delia’s.

  ~Juliet

  He did like pancakes. Ermalinda had given them several cooking classes in preparation for their marriage—the first one—and pancakes had been his favorite. Her banana chocolate chip ones were his favorite. And Juliet had all the ingredients.

  He slapped his abs when he sat down at the table after his shower and cooking his breakfast with a side of bacon and sliced peaches. Good thing he wasn’t going to be dancing for a while, though getting back into shape was going to be a bitch.

  He should probably do some exercises to keep in shape.

  He opened the newspaper Juliet had left on the table and looked for a local gym. First order of business would be to get a membership.

  Putting down roots, Wentworth?

  He sat back. No, he wasn’t putting them down, but he had to admit, this whole scenario was a little too perfect. His favorite food, the paper, Juliet’s little note… Definitely too domesticated for his liking.

  Or rather… not. He’d wanted domesticated back in the day. Truth be told, wouldn’t mind it now. But not with her. He couldn’t trust her and without trust, they had nothing.

  Like all of this, for instance. Was she trying to play him? Set this up to show him that it could work between them?

  He let go of the newspaper. He hated this. Hated not being able to trust her over even the simplest of things. This was the woman he’d once thought—hoped, had been excited about—spending his life with, and now he couldn’t even trust her about breakfast.

  It sucked. He’d loved her once. So incredibly much.

  The thought squeezed his heart, a feeling he was all too well acquainted with and didn’t want to be. Not anymore. He and Juliet were over and done. In the past.

  Except he was going to have to pretend that they weren’t at Delia’s barbecue today.

  That hold on his heart lessened. Which scared him more than he’d like.

  ***

  Juliet worked her pageant smile so realistically that Tanner would have thought it was genuine if he didn’t know her so well.

  Though… did he know her? The Juliet he’d left behind had had zero intention or desire to go to college. All she’d wanted was to get married and have babies. To cook his dinner and warm his bed and raise his children. To be fair, he’d wanted her to do that, too. He’d never thought of her behind a desk or taking meetings or running her father’s company.

  Yet when she’d walked in at one-thirty, he’d been blown away by the executive in the form-fitting skirt and professional yet sexy-as-hell pale pink blouse.

 
She’d kicked her heels off as she’d walked into her room, giving him a flashback to the night she, a member of the student government, had dragged him along to help her scout venues for the senior prom. It’d been another night when his parents had gone out—gambling he now knew, but at the time couldn’t have cared less so long as they weren’t going to come home for a while—and he and Juliet had ended up in his place where she’d made a big production of stripping for him all the way to his room, tossing her dress onto his shoulder, draping her panties over the back of the sofa and her bra on his bedroom door knob. Her heels had been the first to come off.

  “Sweetheart, would you like another beer?”

  He shook off that memory and glanced around Delia’s backyard before looking down at Juliet as she stood beside him, looking just as beautiful as she always had in her blue-and-white striped sundress.

  The color set off her blue eyes that held not one whit of subterfuge. No one would suspect she didn’t mean that sweetheart anymore than he meant what he said next.

  “Sure, honey. I’d love another.”

  Well, okay, he actually would love another beer, but that honey…

  The scary part was how easy it was to slip back into their old habits as if the past eleven years had never happened.

  “Damn, man, I’d think you and Juliet would’ve cooled off a bit, but those sparks are still flyin’ huh?” Tank, his teammate from their football glory days, nudged him with his shoulder as Juliet headed toward the outdoor stone kitchen set-up in Delia’s pool house. “You are one lucky SOB. Wish I still felt about my wife the way you do about yours.”

  Tanner kept that damn smile on his face as he raised the last of his beer to his lips. He didn’t have a clue how to respond to that.

  “So.” Tank cracked his neck, one side then the other, then rolled his shoulders while he checked out Candy Simpson’s ass as she walked by. Some things never changed—especially the fact that Candy Simpson swished her ass now every bit as much as she used to. No surprise the woman was on the prowl for husband number four.