CHAPTER(let) SEVEN: Interlude

. . . .

. . .

It was so simple, yet so amazing.

Juliet's hand rested on his stomach. She was asleep, her head warm against his shoulder, one leg draped over his, and her hand lay lightly on his stomach.

It was the most wonderful feeling he'd never expected to have. Just her hand on his bare skin, making him feel like he was hers… without even trying.

Carlton had no idea what time it was. They'd made love for hours, because neither one of them was ever fully 'done' so long as there was more skin to touch, more places to kiss and nuzzle. He was longing to touch her even now, worn out and (largely) sated… he simply wanted to skim her warm soft skin with his fingertips, mapping the terrain she had so freely given to him.

Carefully turning onto his side, hoping not to wake her, he managed to scoop her closer. She sighed and came easily into his embrace, and he fell asleep again, feeling complete contentment.

. . . .

. . .

She wasn't in bed when he next woke, but he wasn't worried: he sensed her presence nearby. In the bathroom, he could tell she'd showered, given the water droplets on the shower wall and the scent of coconut shampoo. He took a quick shower himself, found his flannel pajama pants, and padded out into the sun-bright living room.

Juliet was standing at the sliding glass door gazing at the flat silver-blue ocean. She held a mug—he didn't smell coffee so she must have found the tea stash—and was wearing only a large green towel.

Turning to smile, golden in the morning sun, she was indescribably lovely to him, and he faltered.

"Hi there," she said softly.

"Hi," he managed, and made it a few more feet.

Her eyebrows went up. "Afraid to come closer?"

"Yes."

"Is it the towel?" Definite smirk.

"Uh, yeah."

"I could take it off, if that would help."

"Give me a minute," he said. "I need to absorb the wonder of you." In truth, he felt a little short of breath. Trying not to go to where she stood, tear the towel off and have at her was requiring a considerable amount of effort, and he'd only been in the room ten seconds. He sat down in the nearest chair, trying to still himself.

Juliet laughed. "That's very flattering. You look rather wonderful yourself."

Carlton felt himself blushing. "I need to shave."

"No, you don't. I like your hair longer like this, too."

He couldn't form an answer, because he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"What is it?" she asked, curious.

"My God, Juliet, you are just so beautiful."

Her turn to become a bit pink, and as she sipped her tea he thought he detected a trembling in her hand.

"I, um… wow," she said shakily. "I really want to jump you right now."

His heart started racing.

"But maybe… since we're not actually touching… yet…we should have some of that talk you wanted last night."

His heart stopped for a moment. This was it.

This was The Big But.

Juliet was watching his expression. "No, Carlton. Nothing has changed. I'm still crazy about you and I still want to be here." She smiled gently. "I just have a question or two."

Oh God… was that all. "Anything you want." He sat forward, elbows on his knees.

She moved to lean against the arm of the sofa, still holding the tea. He wouldn't have minded if the towel came off, although it would certainly impair his ability to comprehend whatever she was about to say.

"I'm having trouble getting used to the idea," she began uncertainly, "that anyone would actually… run from me. I don't feel special enough to... to deserve that sort of…"

In the pause, he supplied, "Love? But you are that special. Ten times over."

Juliet sighed with obvious contentment. "You've made me feel that way since I got here, but… I'm just a woman, Carlton. I'm not perfect and God knows I've made some bad romantic choices in the recent past. Even after I began to wonder if you'd left town because of me, I couldn't really let myself think it because it seemed so egotistical."

"It's not egotistical. I was besotted and stupid and a coward and—"

"Stop. We're together now." She smiled, and he relaxed. (How did she do that?) "What made you finally give in to my incessant nagging?"

Carlton thought about what to say and how to say it, and finally went for the simplest version of the truth. "Your campaign manager."

Juliet was startled and amused. "Come again?"

"There's a restaurant down the road called Salty Seas. One of the owners, who also tends bar, somehow got me to tell her I'd come here because of a woman." He gave her a wry smile. "Anyway, she made it her mission to get me to see what a jackass I'd been, abandoning my best friend without a word. She reminded me that even if I did somehow manage to get over you, I wasn't giving you much incentive to stick with me as a partner, let alone a friend."

Her smile turned to a frown. "I would never have wanted another partner, and nothing could stop me being your friend."

"You might not have felt that way if I'd kept silent the whole five months." When she started to shake her head, he went on implacably, "You don't know. And I sure didn't."

She finally nodded. "We don't have to find out now. So what else did she say?"

Carlton ran one hand through his hair, feeling ridiculous. "Well, she called me a few names, she questioned my intelligence, she said I was a coward, and she told me I was banned from her restaurant until I talked to you. She even punched me. It was a comprehensive platform."

Juliet's eyes were wide. "Wow. She punched you?"

He pointed to his chest. "About half an hour before I called."

"Wow," she repeated. "I have to meet this woman. What's her name?"

"Marcy. She wants to meet you, too." He studied his hands for a moment. "She's been a friend to me. The kind I needed, willing to kick me in the ass." He still didn't know whether he was going to—or needed to—tell her the full extent of his relationship with Marcy, but he did know this wasn't the time.

Quiet for a few moments, Juliet sipped her tea and then asked quietly, "And if you hadn't met her? Would I ever have heard from you?"

Carlton sighed, uneasy. "I don't know. I was pretty sure no good would come of it, and my cowardice where you're concerned was a constant companion."

She gazed at him, dark blue eyes solemn and beautiful. "When you sent me that email on Christmas Eve, I was… I was simply beside myself. I was so happy, Carlton, to know you were alive and well and finally talking to me again. It was like… finding the most perfect gift under the tree. And then talking to you on New Year's Eve… it was terrifying and fantastic and I don't think I'll ever be able to make you understand how completely sick and angry and scared I was after Shawn ruined it."

He hurt for her. "I'm sorry I let my fear take over. I'm sorry for everything I put you through."

"Oh, Carlton, no—as awful as it was, I needed it. I needed to have all that happen or I might have given in to my own cowardice and let you retreat even further. As it is, I was just about to start running your financials to find you."

She'd said so in one of her emails but now, looking at her, he saw how serious she was. "That would have been a risky move, career-wise. And you wouldn't have found much. I used cash and a prepaid Visa card to get here."

Juliet shook her head, half-admiring and half-aggravated. "You knew I'd cave in?"

"No," he said honestly. "I never thought you would. I thought Spencer would try to find me just out of nosiness."

She nodded at the latter, but asked curiously, "You didn't think I'd want to find you?"

"I've never thought anyone wanted to find me."

Tears immediately came to her eyes, and he regretted being so honest.

"Oh, Carlton," she said sadly, "I wanted to start looking for you five seconds after the Chief told me you were gone."

Setting the mug down on the end table, she came to him, and Carlton leaned back in the chair to accommodate her straddling his thighs. She kissed him tenderly, the scent of shampoo in her still-damp hair a pleasing fragrance along with that of her clean warm soft skin.

She murmured against his lips, "I will show you every day how much I value you. How much I need you. How much I love you."

He tried to tell her he would do the same in return but her kiss drove every other thought out of his mind… except for a deep need to pull off the towel and have her naked body close to his.

Juliet had similar ideas, tugging at the waistband of his pajama pants, urging him to slide them down and off, and when the towel followed, she draped herself against him and kissed him languorously and deliciously.

The morning sun reflecting off the silver-blue water filled the room and bathed them in a shimmering light which perfectly fit the buoyant feeling in his heart. He stroked her skin and pulled her even closer, and when she suggested they lie on the floor in front of the balcony he could not say no. Hell, he couldn't talk at all.

On the large green towel, she straddled him again and explored his body, kissing the angles and planes of his arms and chest and abdomen, stroking his thighs and brushing her lips to his chest, marking him as her man with nips and tugs and nibbles.

He lay trembling under her explorations. He knew she could feel how much he wanted to take over—to just take her—but he let her wander his flesh, because he also wanted that. It was glorious beyond all imaginings to have Juliet touch him. Want him. Need him.

"I love you," he said huskily.

Juliet smiled against his lips, kissing him with slow intensity. "I love you too, my Carlton."

God, yes. Her Carlton.

She shifted her body over his enticingly and soon he slid home, joining them completely and deeply in a mind-bending sharing of pleasure and trust and intimacy.

He still didn't know how it was possible, but he was finally starting to believe.

. . . .

. . .

They spent the rest of the morning entwined, back in bed after awhile and later showering together—water conservation, she assured him, and never mind that it took twice as long because of a number of wicked activities during said shower—and come lunchtime, he grilled redfish and they dined out on the balcony.

Juliet, radiant in the sun, watched a colorful sailboat on the horizon. She looked serene and so natural, as if she was made to be there with him in that spot.

Once again Carlton felt nearly overwhelmed by the strength of his feelings for her. He made himself sit still, offering her salad and vegetables, and had to restart his heart when her foot found his calf under the patio table.

With a feline smile, she moved her foot higher up his leg.

"Juliet," he said reasonably. "You're going to kill me."

She blinked innocently. "I heard that what doesn't destroy you makes you stronger."

"There is nothing left to destroy of my ability to resist you," he countered.

"You're resisting me right now. You're on the other side of the table instead of next to me."

"Two reasons. One, we need to eat or we won't make it through the week. Two, I happen to love looking at you."

Juliet blushed. "You really do make me feel special."

"You are special. I wish I'd told you so a long time ago."

Her foot moved against his calf again. "I wish you had."

"But then you would have requested a new partner on grounds of harassment."

Juliet frowned. "More likely we'd have been fired for having sex on the conference room table."

Carlton laughed, aroused at the very idea of it. "You'd have been that receptive?"

"Maybe not seven years ago when I was new and you were in the throes of your divorce. Maybe not even four years ago. But… I don't think I'd have resisted the idea after that. We were already so close and I've always found you attractive."

His eyebrows shot up. "Always?"

"Of course." She sipped her iced tea, smiling. "Tall, lean, strong... and those big beautiful blue eyes. I wanted to run my fingers through your hair—oh, but by the way, if you ever try that buzz cut again, you're dead to me." She grinned, and added, "I also wanted to run my fingers through your chest hair. It just about did me in whenever you'd loosen your tie."

He stared at her. "Are you blushing?"

"Maybe. But so are you."

Yeah, he was. "The buzz cut won't be back. And you can put your hands on my chest any time you want."

"Same goes for you," she said slyly, and he felt the heat again.

"Eat faster," he commanded. "We have to get back to bed."

Juliet laughed—and when her foot went wandering up his calf again, he moved his chair closer so he could drape her leg over his… which of course made it ever so tempting to slip his free hand into her lap.

Which did in fact make Juliet eat faster.

Which further meant that around the time he'd pulled her dress up enough to touch her bare thighs, they found it necessary to abandon the remains of lunch and relocate to the bedroom.

For the rest of the afternoon.

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[yes, t'was another chapterlet, and a lot of mush... but hang in there.]