Friendship On Fire

Holy crap! What the hell? Jules jerked away from him, lifting her hands up when he stepped toward her, intent on picking up where they left off.

Jules slapped her open hand against his still-wet chest and pushed him back. Furious now, she glared up at him. “What the hell, Lockwood? You do not walk back into my life and start kissing me without a damn word! Did you really think that we would end up naked on the bathroom floor?”

“I’m already naked.” Noah looked down at her flushed chest, her pointed nipples and her wet-from-his-kiss mouth. “And, yeah, it definitely looked and felt like we were heading in that direction.”

Jules opened her mouth to blast him and, flummoxed, couldn’t find the words. “I—You—Crap!”

Noah reached behind her for a towel and slowly, oh, so slowly, wrapped it around his hips. He had the balls to smile and Jules wanted to slap him silly. “So, how much does it suck to know that the attraction hasn’t faded?”

Jules glared at him, muttered a low curse and turned on her heel and walked toward the open door.

“Jules?”

Jules took her time turning around. “What?”

Noah grinned, his big arms folded across his chest. “Hi. Good to see you.”

Jules did her goldfish impression again and, shaking her head, headed to her bedroom. Had that really happened? Was she hallucinating? Jules looked down and saw that the fabric of her bra was wet, water droplets covered her shoulders and ran down her stomach.

Nope, she wasn’t dreaming the sexiest dream ever. Noah was back and this was her life.

* * *

So this was her punishment for finishing a project early?

Unfair, Universe. Because all she wanted to do was catch a plane back to Napa Valley and Jules hunted for a reason to return to the project she’d just wrapped up. Jules ran through her mental checklist and, dammit, she’d definitely covered all her bases. The workmanship was exemplary, the client was ecstatic and his check was in the bank. There wasn’t the smallest reason to haul her butt out of this house and fly back to California.

Balls!

After three months in California she’d desperately wanted to come home, to unpack the boxes stacked against the wall and to catch up with Darby and DJ, her best friends but also her business partners. Darby, her twin, was Winston and Brogan’s architect. Jules was the interior designer, and DJ managed the business end of their design and decor company. She spoke to both of them numerous times a day but she wanted to hug them, to be a part of their early-morning meetings instead of Skyping in, to share an icy bottle of wine at the end of the day.

Jules scowled. It was very damn interesting to note that during any one of those many daily conversations one of them could’ve told her that Noah was back in Boston.

Five words, not difficult. “Noah is back in Boston.”

Or even better: “Noah is back in Boston, living in our house.”

He was tall and built and it wasn’t like they could’ve missed him!

Jules sat down on the edge of her bed, her feet bouncing off something unfamiliar. Looking down, she saw a pair of men’s flat-heeled, size thirteen boots. Lifting her head, she looked around her bedroom. A man’s shirt lay over the back of her red-and-white-checked chair, a leather wallet and a phone were on her dressing table. No doubt Noah’s clothes were in her closet, too. Noah was not only back in her life, he’d moved into her bedroom and, literally, into her bed.

Jules frantically pushed the buttons on her phone, cursing when neither Darby nor DJ answered her call. She left less-than-happy messages on their voice mails and she was about to call Levi—who hadn’t shared the news either—when her phone vibrated with an incoming call.

“Mom, guess what I found in the house when I got home a little while ago?” Jules asked, super sarcastic. “Guess you didn’t know that Noah was home either, huh?”

“Damn, you found him.”

In the shower, gloriously, wonderfully naked. Spectacularly naked and I must’ve looked at him like I wanted to eat him up like ice cream because, before saying a damn word, he kissed the hell out of me. “Yeah, I found Noah.”

“I told your siblings to tell you,” Callie said.

Hearing a noise coming from her mom’s phone, Jules frowned. “Where are you?”

“At a delightful coffee shop that’s just opened up next to the gym at LCC,” Callie replied. “Amazing ambience and delicious coffee—”

“And the owner is really good-looking!” A deep voice floated over the phone and was quickly followed by Callie’s flirty laugh. Wait...what? Her mom was flirting?

“Is he?” Jules asked, intrigued enough to briefly change the subject.

“Is he what?” Callie replied, playing dumb.

Really, they were going to play this game? “Good-looking, Mom.”

“I suppose so. But too young and too fit for me.”

“I’ll admit to the fit but not to the too young. What’s ten years?” the cheerful voice boomed. “Tell your mom to accept a date from me!”

Well, go, Mom! Despite her annoyance at her family in general, Jules laughed, listening as her mom shushed the man. “Maybe you should take the guy up on his offer. Might be fun.”

“I’m not discussing him with you, Jules,” Callie said, and Jules was sure she could hear her blushing.

Since Callie normally shared everything with her daughters, Jules knew this man had her unflappable mom more flustered than she cared to admit. Now, that was interesting. Before Jules could interrogate her further, Callie spoke. “So, how do you feel about Noah being back in Boston?”

Sidewinded. Horny. Crazy. Flabbergasted.

Not wanting her mom to know how deeply she was affected by this news—hell, the world was Jell-O beneath her feet—Jules let out an exasperated laugh. “It’s not a big deal, Mom. Noah is entitled to come home.”

“Oh, please, you’ve been dreading this day for years.”

Jules stared down at the glossy wooden floors beneath her feet. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mother.”

“Jules, you’ve been terrified of this day because you’ll no longer be able to leave your relationship with Noah in limbo. Seeing him again either means cutting him out of your life for good or forgiving him.”

“There’s nothing to forgive him for.” Okay, she had a couple of minor issues with that gorgeous, six-foot-plus slab of defined muscles. Things like him getting engaged to a woman he didn’t love and kissing her on New Year’s Eve while he was engaged. And then for remaining engaged to Morgan, disappearing from her life without an explanation—she was still furious that he dropped out of college without finishing his degree—and not trying to reconnect with her when he and Morgan had finally called it quits.

In the space of seven years, the two men she loved the most, her best friend and her dad, had dropped out of her life without rhyme, reason or explanation. Her dad had been healthy, too healthy to be taken by a massive heart attack but that was exactly what happened.

Jules doubted there was a reasonable explanation for Noah abandoning her and their lifelong friendship, for not being there at her dad’s funeral to hold her hand through the grief.

Okay, maybe that last one wasn’t fair; Noah had been in the middle of his last race as a professional sailor at the time.

“No more coffee for me, Mason,” Callie said, snapping Jules out of her wayward thoughts.

She grabbed her mom’s words like a lifeline. “Mason is a nice name. Is he hot? If he’s too young for you, can I meet him?”

“He’s far too old for you and not your type.” Well, that was a quick reply...and a tad snappy. Did her mom have the hots for Coffee Guy? And why not? It was time she started living for herself again.

“I don’t have a type, Mom,” Jules replied, and she didn’t. She dated men of all types and ethnicities but none of them stuck. She didn’t need a psych degree to know that losing the two men she loved and trusted the most turned her into a card-carrying, picket-sign-holding commitment-phobe.