CHAPTER TEN

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(A smutty, shmoopy little interlude ~ )

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"The thing I could never understand," he said as the sun fell into the west slowly, "was that no matter what kind of ass I was, you kept forgiving me."

Juliet nuzzled his jaw. "What's not to forgive?"

"When Victoria got mad at me, she stayed mad for days. When you got mad—and we both know you'll get mad again—you'd yell or eye-roll or slam things around and then in a few hours you'd be back to normal. You never asked for a new partner, you never kneed me in the groin—"

"Victoria did that?" she gasped.

"She tried," he said dryly. "The point is, you… seemed to…" He felt helpless. "You seemed to like me, O'Hara, and I never understood that."

They were lying on the deck, wrapped up in blankets, pillows from the sofa to support them. It was cool but not unpleasantly so, and the warmth they shared was part and parcel of having spent half the morning and the entire afternoon making love.

Under the blankets—and still delightfully nude—Juliet draped one thigh over his and scooched closer, as close as she could get without actually being… him. "I liked you from the start," she purred.

He felt goosebumps. "Damn, really? Why?"

She laughed. "What do you mean, why? As for staying mad, what for? Look, it's true you can be very… prickly, but after I'd worked with you for a few months I started to see it was just an act. You were a lot more sensitive than anyone knew, and half your apparent arrogance was just so no one would question your ability to control a situation."

"Sensitive," he scoffed.

Juliet trailed one warm fingertip across his lips, and he sighed. "Yeah. Sensitive. Don't forget, I saw what your separation was doing to you. I saw all the ways you were trying, good and bad, as well as all the ways she could hurt you."

He stared up at a single orange-y cloud with a pink tail, remembering those days. The pain was gone now, though some resentment lingered.

"You know if I ever meet her, I'm punching her in the nose."

Lassiter laughed.

"And then I'm hugging her for letting you go. Stupid woman did me a favor."

He gazed at her now, amused and still disbelieving. "Maybe she did me a favor." At the same time, he slid his hand between them and down the silky skin of her stomach, and she shivered involuntarily. When his fingers hit the very warmest spot on her body, she closed her eyes.

He kissed her, moving his hand maddeningly just exactly where she wanted him to move it, because he had learned enough about her already today so he could be confident of that, and Juliet's soft moans of exquisite pleasure refueled his desire for her.

Her orgasm had barely crested when she started pulling at him, wanting him anew, and there under the blankets, under the fading light of the sky, he took her again—hard—not even sure himself where this endless flood of desire—and stamina—was coming from.

After, they pushed the blankets aside to cool off. He felt exposed, to be sure, lying naked on the deck, but she promised that after three weeks here, she was sure of their privacy. And certainly he didn't mind looking at her, lit as she was by the golden light from inside the cabin as well as the last little bit of light from the sky.

"You're the most beautiful creature ever," he whispered, kissing her cheekbones lightly.

Juliet sighed. "I love you, Carlton."

His heart stopped.

He died, was not resuscitated, and after many years of neglect, his headstone fell over in disrepair and—she nudged his shoulder. "Hey."

"My God," he whispered. "Did you just say you love me?"

She whispered back, "I think so. There's no one else here, is there?"

"How can you love me? I'm still not clear on why you like me!"

"Carlton." She pushed herself up on one elbow to better be able to glare at him. "Why do you like coffee so much?"

He blinked. "What?"

"Why do you like coffee so much?"

"I—I—why the hell are we talking about coffee?"

"Carlton. Answer the question."

"I like the way it tastes! I like the fact that it wakes me up. I like—" He stared at her. "Are you leading up to comparing me to coffee?"

Juliet laughed and kissed him for several long delightful moments. "Mmmm, no. I was leading up to reminding you that a lot of people don't like coffee, but the ones who do, the ones who 'get it,' are the luckiest people in the world. At least, that's how I feel about coffee. And oh yeah, you."

Puzzling creature. He smiled—or rather, couldn't stop the smile from taking over his face, or for that matter, his heart. "I love you way the hell more than coffee, O'Hara."

She climbed up on top of him, making him oof a little in pleased surprise, and he pulled the blankets back up to cover them again. "I know you're wondering how I can be sure. You're thinking it's only been three weeks since my breakup and there's still a big mess ahead and how can I know. Am I right?"

"Yes," he admitted, his hands on her derriere under the blanket.

Juliet kissed his chin. "I already loved you. I loved you for a long time because you were my partner and my best friend and you trusted me and I trusted you. I didn't let myself be in love with you, though. I distracted myself with other men, because I was trying to keep the partner over here, and the dating over there, and never the twain shall meet in a dark alley with loaded guns at midnight."

He grinned, and she grinned back, and he loved her.

"But once you found out I was dating Shawn—and God, I am so sorry you had to find out the way you did—I started to see you differently. He told me about your, um, threat, for lack of a better word, and that made the chink in the armor deeper. And then every time you snarked about Shawn I couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't more than just you not liking him. I had to wonder if it was because you had feelings for me."

"I did," he said, without hesitation, because what was the point of hedging now? "And it was a threat, so there is no better word. I'm surprised I haven't shot him during the last—"

Juliet kissed him hard, surprising him with the intensity of it, and for a few moments he forgot what either one of them had been saying.

"Then," she went on softly, "you texted me that morning. And just like that, all the barriers I'd put up were gone. Girl done fell in love, partner. Girl done fell in love."

Lassiter's heart grew an additional three sizes on the spot.

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She didn't want him to leave Sunday night, but she was prepared to let him go. He held on to her tightly, so tightly, and whispered against her hair, "What did you tell me? About layers? This is just a new layer to what we already had?"

"Yes."

"My aunt always did say to dress in layers."

Juliet laughed and grasped his jaw, kissing his mouth, loving how he returned the heat. "She was very wise."

"When are you coming home?" His voice was so low, almost plaintive, and his vivid blue eyes searched hers so soulfully.

She smiled, feeling weak in the knees again. "I think I'll be packing up tomorrow. I might not come back to work until next week, but I don't want to spend so many days away from you again."

He stroked her face gently. "You know we have to keep this quiet awhile."

"I know. But I think we should tell Vick. I'm about to bring Shawn's big lie out into the open, so starting out by telling her one myself would be a touch hypocritical."

After a moment, he nodded. "Okay. But private from everyone else."

It would be best. No need to add to the drama just yet.

He picked up his bag, hand on the doorknob.

She looked at him, silently pleading with him to stay just a little longer.

He sighed, dropped the bag, and took her back to bed.

By leaving for Santa Barbara at five in the morning, he still got to work on time.

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