Secretly yours, p.21
Secretly Yours, page 21
“Nothing to discuss,” Hallie answered for him. For them. With color in her cheeks, she slid her attention back to Natalie. “And, sorry. You’re overqualified, Cornell.”
His sister shook a fist at the sky. “Dammit. Foiled once again by my sharp intellect.”
They shared a fond laugh, visibly considering each other. “Listen, there is a rebound in this town that still needs to be bounded, and he has my name on him. Would you want to attend a tasting with me on Tuesday night? Wine crafted by a former Navy SEAL,” she cajoled, waggling her eyebrows. “I’m sure he’s got a friend. Or two, if you’re into that sort of thing. Or maybe you already have a boyfriend you can bring? I don’t mind being the third wheel—”
“Natalie,” Julian said through teeth that could not be unclenched to save the world. “That’s enough.”
“Says who?” Hallie asked, pivoting to face him.
“Says me.” Idiot.
For once, the dogs were silent.
His sister had the expression of an Olympian holding up a bouquet of roses.
“I didn’t realize you spoke for me.” Hallie laughed, her eyes bright.
“My sister is making trouble out of sheer boredom, Hallie. I’m just trying to prevent you from getting wrapped up in it.”
Natalie reared back a little, looking genuinely hurt. “Is that what I’m doing?”
Hallie laid a hand on Natalie’s arm, squeezing. The look of reproach she gave him was like a line drive to the gut. “Friends don’t let friends go to tastings alone. Someone has to talk you out of buying in discounted bulk. Count me in. But . . .” She avoided his stare. “No plus one. Just me.”
He battled the urge to drop to his knees and worship her.
“Are you sure?” Natalie cut her a sideways glance. “You’re not just saying yes because my brother is being a tool?”
This time she looked him square in the eye. “I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a good forty percent of the reason.”
Natalie nodded, impressed. “I respect your honesty.”
What the fuck was going on? He’d lost his grip on this situation entirely. In the blink of an eye, his sister had become friends with Hallie. Friends who went drinking together in the company of Navy SEALs. Somehow he was the bad guy. But the real problem, the reality he did not want to admit to himself, was that he liked Natalie and Hallie forming a bond. It reminded him of the moment Hallie turned her face to the orange sky and he could hear the dogs barking in the yard, and it hit him like a wave of preemptive melancholia. He’d think of this someday. He’d think of all of it. A lot.
With a rough clearing of his throat, Julian walked on dirty socks back into the house, which really took the dignity out of it all, and stripped the soggy things off before setting foot on the hardwood floor. He threw them into the hamper, on top of his running clothes, and paced back to the kitchen, pouring himself a third of a glass of whiskey, cursing, and adding another inch. He slugged it back, then stood there staring down into his empty glass until the rumble of Hallie’s truck engine brought his head up, just in time for his sister to storm into the kitchen.
“Are you a whole-ass moron, Julian?”
No one had ever asked him a question like that. Perhaps it had been implied by his father, but in a far more aggressive format. “Excuse me?”
Natalie threw up her hands. “Why did you let me let you write back to that secret admirer?”
A mallet swung and connected with his temple. “Hallie told you she knew?”
“In passing. Yes.”
He came as close as he ever would to smashing a glass on the ground. “How does something like that get mentioned in passing? Couldn’t you talk about the weather instead of swapping life stories after a five-minute acquaintance? Jesus!” he shouted. “I told you I didn’t want to do it.”
“You didn’t tell me why!” She raked her fingers through her dark hair. “Oh my God, the way you spoke about her last night and now the chemistry and the angst.” She threw herself backward into the pantry door, rattling it loudly. “I’m going to die.”
It was not good for whatever peace of mind he had left to have someone recognize the connection between himself and Hallie and say it out loud. Why was he suddenly winded? “You think I should pursue Hallie. Is that what I’m getting from your theatrics?”
Her eyes flashed with accusation. “I don’t know if you have a chance with her now, secret-admirer-letter returner.”
Was there a pickax buried in his chest? “You begged me to write that letter!”
She made a disgusted face, flashing him a middle finger. “You want to get tangled up in semantics, fine, but the point is, you blew it. She’s a rare spot of sunshine, and you’re committed to huddling in the shade.” She paused. “Maybe I should write a book, instead of you. That was a sick metaphor.”
Julian started to leave the kitchen. “Speaking of which, I’m going to work.”
“You haven’t written in a week. It’s because of her, isn’t it? You’re all . . . tied in knots and full of woe like a T-Bird in love with a Scorpion. Grease is my comfort movie. Okay?” Her voice rose. “What is the issue with pursuing her?”
He spun around at the mouth of the hall. “She makes me feel out of fucking control,” he snapped. “You’ve been that way your whole life, so maybe you don’t understand why that would be undesirable to someone. She leaves things to chance, she’s flighty, she doesn’t think her course of action through from beginning to end, and chaos is the result. She comes with dirty footprints, and corralling dogs and sticky children, and tolerating lateness. I’m too rigid for that. For her.” A low, distant ringing started in his ears. “I’d dim her glow. I’d change her, and I would hate myself for it.”
Natalie’s throat worked for a series of heavy moments, the room lightening and darkening with a passing cloud. “Learn to let go, Julian. Learn.”
He scoffed, making his throat burn worse. “You say that like it’s easy.”
“It’s not. I know, because I’ve done it in reverse.”
That gave Julian pause, drawing him out of his own misery. In reverse? Natalie had gone from free spirit to . . . dimmed down? Fine, she’d quit her antics, buckled down, and gone to a prestigious college, worked her way up to partner at a major investment firm. But she wasn’t anything like him. Was she? She was full of humor and spontaneity and life.
Unless there was a lot more happening under the surface. A lot he couldn’t see.
She diverted her gaze before he could search for it.
“Come with us Tuesday night, Julian. Don’t live with regrets.”
Julian stared at the empty archway long after Natalie had vacated it, trying to remember how he’d gotten to this point, this edge of the cliff where leaping was necessary. He hadn’t asked for this. Never wanted it. But now?
I’m too rigid for that. For her.
Learn to let go.
That advice had come across as flippant at first. It made sense to him, though. If he knew how to do anything, it was learn. Expand his way of thinking. He’d just never done so in the name of romance. With the intent of . . . what? Was he going after Hallie now? Pursuing her?
The very idea was absurd. Wasn’t it?
They lived an hour and a half away from each other, leading extremely different lives. The fact that they were polar opposites hadn’t changed one iota. Hallie still brought disorder with her wherever she went. And he . . . would dull all of that. He’d squash it. When they first met, he thought she needed to change. Learn to be punctual. More organized. He’d even been so arrogant as to critique her as a gardener and decide she could do with some symmetry training. Now the idea that she would change, even in the slightest, on his account made Julian feel seasick.
Then learn.
It would have to be him that changed.
Pursuing Hallie meant easing his grip on time management. It meant learning to exist without the constraints of minutes and hours. Living with paw prints on his pants and understanding that she would do inconceivable things like volunteer to babysit thirty children and stuff them with donuts. Or steal cheese in broad daylight.
Why was he smiling, dammit?
He was. He could see his reflection in the microwave.
I propose that we both do something that scares us this week.
Was it in bad taste to take the advice from his secret admirer and use it to suit his purposes with Hallie? Probably. But, Jesus, now that he’d given himself permission to go get her, a rush of anticipation started in the crown of his head, blasting down to his feet so swiftly, he had to lean against the wall.
Okay, then.
My goal is to date her. My goal is to be her boyfriend.
He could barely hear his own thoughts over the ruckus his heart was making.
And yes, he was going to try his damndest to stop stuffing everything in life into the parameters of a plan and a schedule. But not when it came to this. To her. He needed a plan for winning her, because something deep in the recesses of his chest told him this was too important to be left up to chance.
Chapter Seventeen
Tuesday night Hallie stood in front of her full-length mirror in two different shoes, trying to decide which one looked better. She snapped a quick picture with her phone and fired it off to Lavinia, who promptly responded with: Wear the heels. But if you replace me as your best friend tonight, be warned that I will stab you with one.
Never, Hallie texted back, snorting.
She kicked aside some of the clothes and beauty products on her floor and found the lint roller, dragging the stickiness down her snug black dress to rid it of three varieties of dog hair. She stepped over the pile of rejected shoes and entered her en suite bathroom, leaving the lint roller in a place she probably wouldn’t find it next time and—
Hallie straightened, her fingers pausing in the act of rooting through lipsticks to find the right shade of golden peach. Watching her actions as if they were being performed by someone else, she removed the sticky strip of dog hair from the roller, threw it in the trash, and replaced the essential tool for dog owners in the drawer, where she used to keep it.
She stepped back from the mirror and looked around, wincing at the clutter.
Now that she’d taken a big step in her professional life, tomorrow she needed to take a leap in her personal one—and rein in this house jungle. Or at least get a running start.
But first, she’d get through tonight.
Going to a wine tasting with Julian’s sister was a terrible idea considering she’d resolved to move on. For real this time. Especially after the awkward scene that had played out in his front yard. He’d made it clear that they were incompatible and written a letter to someone else, so what gave him the right to decide what she did with her time? Or whom she spent it with?
The guesthouse garden was almost complete. She hadn’t quite decided what she would use to fill the final spaces, but it would come to her. Hopefully on her next trip to the nursery—and then she could wrap up her responsibilities to the Vos family, bill the matriarch, and move on. No more secret admirer letters, either. They were just another ill-conceived part of her life. She’d acted on impulse, and where did it lead her?
To having him validate all of her feelings. The ones she’d held on to for so long. And those things were not good, because Julian remained unavailable to her. Nothing had changed. If she revealed herself to him as the author of those letters, he would probably be disappointed that she wasn’t some like-minded scholar with a home filing system.
Maybe she would write the letters to herself from now on, instead of to Julian. They’d led her somewhere useful, hadn’t they? She’d finally admitted that avoidance through chaos was harming her livelihood. Even her friendship with Lavinia, who had begun looking at her in that worried, measuring way. Hallie needed to turn onto a new path. A healthy one.
Hallie shuffled a few lipsticks into her makeup case and snapped it shut, suddenly looking forward to a cleaning spree in the morning. A fresh start. Maybe she would even pick a new wall color for the living room and do some painting. Peony pink or peacock blue. Something vivid that would serve as a reminder that she was not only capable of admitting her self-destructive habits, but of finding a way to correct her course while remaining true to herself.
With a nod, Hallie requested an Uber and spent the ten-minute wait saying good-bye to the boys, which led to another harried trip to the lint roller, but the snuffling snuggles were well worth it. She’d taken them to the dog park after dinner so they could run off any excess energy that might lead to her coming home to couch stuffing all over the floor. Now she put some extra food in their bowls and walked out the front door, clutch purse in hand, sinking into the back seat of the black Prius.
Julian must have given his sister Hallie’s phone number, because Natalie had texted her that afternoon with an address to the apparently SEAL-owned winery, Zelnick Cellar. The place had a website, but it was under construction, and she’d never heard of it from anyone in town. She was curious, even if spending the evening with a Vos wasn’t the wisest step on her road to separating herself from all things Julian.
Ten minutes later, the Uber stopped in front of a medium-size barn surrounded by wooden fencing. Flickering light shone from within, and she could see a small crowd standing around. She had to imagine they were locals, since she hadn’t been able to find the tasting advertised anywhere on the Web. Was it entirely through word of mouth?
Tossing a thank-you to the driver, Hallie climbed out of the back seat and stood, tugging down the snug hem of her dress. She opened the flashlight app on her phone—getting a lot of use out of it lately, huh?—and did her best to navigate the dirt path leading to the barn while wearing skinny three-inch heels. The closer she got to the music and the crowd, the more well-lit the path became, and she slipped her phone back into her purse. Glowing white bulbs bounced up and down in the breeze, strung from high points of the barn. Was that the Beach Boys playing? This had to be the most casual wine tasting she’d ever attended. No doubt she’d overdressed—
Julian stepped into the barn entrance.
In a sharp, charcoal-gray suit.
Holding a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.
Time slowed down, allowing her to feel and experience the over-the-top response of her hormones. They sang like tone-deaf preteens in the shower, screeching the high notes with misplaced confidence. Wow. Oh wow. He looked like he’d walked out of an advertisement for an expensive watch with too many dials. Or Gucci cologne.
Good. Lord.
Wait. Wildflowers were her favorite. How had he known?
Honestly, it tracked that they would be. But still.
She recognized the pink cellophane wrapping. He’d gone all the way to the nursery for that colorful spray. Who were they for?
Why was he here in the first place?
Close your mouth before you start drooling.
Salivating became even more of a possibility when Julian closed the distance between them, striding forward in that purposeful way of his. And when his head blocked the light coming from the barn, she saw determination and focus in the set of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes, the deep line of concentration between his eyebrows.
“Hello, Hallie.”
The sheer depth of his voice, like the belly of a submarine scraping the ocean floor, almost had her backing away. Just dropping her purse and running.
Because what was happening here?
Without breaking eye contact, Julian picked up her free hand and wrapped it around the bouquet of wildflowers. “For you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
He seemed to be expecting that, because his expression didn’t shift at all. He merely seemed torn over which part of her face to study. Nose, mouth, cheeks. “I’ll explain. But first, I want to apologize for my behavior on Sunday. I acted like a jackass.”
Hallie nodded dazedly. Was she accepting that apology?
Hard to say, when she was watching Julian slowly drag his tongue from right to left along his bottom lip, an answering clench taking place between her thighs. Something was different about him. He never failed to be entirely magnetic, but this was on a whole other level. It was almost intentional. Like he’d forgotten his filter at home.
“I’d like the opportunity to spend time with you, Hallie.” His attention traveled downward, stopping at the hemline of her dress, that bump in his throat traveling high, then low, along with the register of his voice. When he reached out a single finger and traced the location where her skin met the hem, the air vanished from her lungs. “I want to . . . date you.”
He packed so much bite into the word “date,” there was no pretending it didn’t have more than one meaning. Especially when his finger was just inside the hem now, teasing side to side to side, setting her legs trembling.
“You want to date me?”
“Yes.”
“I still don’t understand. What changed?”
Julian hooked his finger and dragged her close by the hem of her dress. Breathless, her head fell back so she wouldn’t have to break eye contact. God, he was tall. Did he grow in the moonlight or did he just seem larger now that he’d apparently stopped withholding himself?
“Truthfully?” he asked.
“Yes, truthfully,” she whispered.
Acute distress flickered briefly in his gaze. “I felt you slipping away from me. On Sunday in the yard.” He paused, visibly searching for an explanation. “We’d left things up in the air before, but this was different, Hallie. And I didn’t like it.” He studied her closely. “Was I right? Have you slipped away from me?”
Under such intense scrutiny, there was no point in providing anything but the truth. “Yes. I have.”
His chest rose sharply, shuddering back down. “Let me try and reverse that decision.”
“No.” She ignored how sexy he looked with that single professor’s eyebrow hoisting into the air and let the word hang between them. Maybe the longer she left it there, the better chance she would have of actually keeping her resolve. Panicked by her slim odds, Hallie reminded herself that he’d written back to the other woman. Or what he assumed was another woman. He’d told a stranger deep, important things about himself, and that hurt, because he’d made Hallie feel like his confidant. Then he’d given that confidence to someone else.
