Things I Love About You
A/N: For my bestie, Finneganhart. Merry Christmas!
—-
Juliet had lived and survived on this island for longer than she'd ever dreamed possible. She'd kicked ass in martial arts training; climbed to the highest points of the island just to get as far away from Ben as she could; hell, she'd even run from the smoke monster more times than she could count. And yet, after a late start one morning after having missed her alarm, she'd flown off the front porch without even bothering to fully step down.
She'd heard the resulting crack before she felt the pain. One minute she was running towards work with her hands in her hair, tying up a haphazard ponytail, and the next she was on her side on the ground, hairstyle forgotten, gripping her foot in agony.
Her yelp had been enough to alert a passerby, someone she didn't know well, who helped her onto the porch. Juliet could barely breathe. Through the stinging tears in her eyes, she could tell it was already starting to swell.
"Mr. LaFleur!" the woman shouted, knocking on the door. Jennifer, Juliet thought. The woman's name was Jennifer. She'd seen her around a few times, she was friends with Amy.
"What?" came James's grumbling on the other side of the door. Juliet wanted to call out for him, she really did, but each time she tried to speak, only a small squeak came out. She gulped down air and tried to still her racing heart.
"Juliet's been hurt. I think she needs the infirmary," Jennifer said through the closed door.
Suddenly it swung open, and a half-dressed James barrelled through. The reason she'd missed her alarm, she almost laughed, was their impromptu 3 a.m. rendezvous. He must have still been getting dressed when Jennifer knocked.
"Where is she?" he shouted, alarmed and breathless. Ready to fly off in any direction, despite his state of half undress.
"I'm right here," Juliet finally gasped, and James whirled around, having missed her the first time.
He knelt at her side, hands roaming all over her. Juliet looked up at Jennifer, who was grinning at them with pink cheeks. "I'll go inform the doctor," she said, and scurried off now that Juliet was in good hands.
"Baby, what happened?" James cooed, eyes wide and panic-stricken. He could see the way she clutched her ankle now, and gingerly helped her lift her pant leg. He hissed when he saw the discoloration already darkening her pale skin.
"I was running late," she explained, but he already knew that. He'd chuckled as she tore around the house trying to get her act together this morning. "I missed the step and just… landed wrong, I guess." She shook her head, warmth finding her cheeks. The embarrassment was starting to seep in.
"Hey, it's okay. I gotcha," he soothed, and ran his hands through her tangled hair. "Lemme just go get a shirt, and I'll take ya right over, okay?"
Juliet nodded, and waited for James to hurry inside and throw on a t-shirt. When he came out, he swooped her up in his arms before she could even protest. She let out a little yelp as he adjusted her weight in his arms, and clung to his neck for dear life.
At the infirmary, the doctor was expecting them. She winced as the doctor took off her shoe, and clutched James's hand as he inspected her range of motion.
James, his anxiety leaking out of him like steam from a tea kettle, bit his nails and tapped his foot while awaiting the verdict. "Is it broken?" he asked, for maybe the third time since they'd arrived.
The doctor sighed, already having answered the question twice. "I still need an x-ray to be sure." He turned to look pointedly at James. "Which I cannot do with you in the room."
"I ain't goin' nowhere," James growled in response, taking a step forward, but Juliet tugged him back to her. Her thumb rubbed soothing circles on his skin.
"Hey. I'll be okay, really. Please just do as the doctor says." James opened his mouth to protest, but Juliet insisted, "He's right. You need to go."
Sighing heavily, James begrudgingly let go of her hand and stalked out to the waiting room.
Half an hour later, Juliet's sprained ankle was wrapped tightly and covered in ice packs. Undoubtedly, they'd need to apply more soon. The ice wouldn't last in the island heat. She was given crutches to use to walk around, and discharged with instructions to stay off it, elevate it, and ice it daily.
It had been ages since Juliet had used crutches. And to be frank, they really irritated her bad shoulder. She was embarrassingly slow going, trying to hobble back to their house.
"You know, I could just–" James tried to say, but Juliet shot him a death glare. It was bad enough that everyone had seen him carry her there earlier today. She didn't need him to carry her home, too. Everyone was already staring. She could do this herself.
"I'm fine," she assured him, and took her time trying to keep her balance.
By the time they got home, she was winded and sore already. Not only from the crutches, but from her body resetting from the injury itself. She couldn't wait to lie down.
She stopped, just shy of the steps. This was all their fault.
"Um…" she murmured, and tried to figure out the best way to do this.
"How's about now, princess?" James retorted, and shoved his smug face next to hers. "Too stubborn to be carried over the threshold, too?"
Juliet rolled her eyes. She hated eating her words. "Fine. Just– it's fine." She handed him her crutches while holding onto the porch railing, and allowed James to bend over in front of her. He leaned the crutches against the porch and Juliet hopped on his back. His hands supported her thighs and he only readjusted once before climbing the steps and heading into the house.
She thought she'd feel like an idiot, and want to be put down immediately. But she couldn't deny, it felt kind of… nice. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smelling his hair. His hands squeezed her thighs, and she remembered once more why she'd been late at all.
Worth it.
He set her down on the bed, bending low so she could scoot off. He left her only momentarily, so he could retrieve her crutches from the porch. He leaned them against the nightstand and helped her get comfortable against the headboard.
"Alright, doc said elevate, right?" he murmured more to himself than her, and grabbed the pillow from his side of the bed. He gently lifted her leg and stuck the pillow underneath. "Ice is good. So… now ya just need…" He darted out of the bedroom, headed to the bathroom. He came back with a bottle of Tylenol and a small cup of water.
Juliet watched him fretting over her. It was… adorable. He was so flustered, trying so hard to get it right. If she was feeling better, she'd jump his bones right here and now. "Thanks," she muttered, and accepted the meds from him. She swallowed two pills and put the bottle and cup on her nightstand.
"Can I get ya anything else?" he asked, and Juliet shook her head.
"No. You have to go to work. I'll be fine." She pointed to her crutches, proof she could get around.
"Are you sure?" he asked warily, like this was some kind of test he didn't want to fail.
"I'm sure."
He set his mouth in a firm line. "Okay. Well. If you say so." He plopped a kiss on the top of her head before moseying around, getting ready for work.
Juliet was on chapter three of the book she'd just started when she felt a heavy thump on the bed. She looked up, startled, and found half their pantry in a basket beside her. "For when you get hungry," he explained, and Juliet let out an incredulous laugh.
"Just how hungry do you think I'll be?" She surveyed the basket. There were fruit, crackers, cookies, dinner rolls, cheese, and an unopened carton of juice.
James shrugged. "Dunno, but I can't have ya hobblin' around, hurtin' yourself. Not on my watch." He gave her one last kiss and ruffled her hair playfully before heading out the bedroom door.
Juliet's whole face hurt from smiling so hard. Maybe this little accident would end up being a very, very good thing.
—-
Apparently, despite leaving the heaps of snacks, James couldn't stay away. He'd told Horace that Juliet was hurt, which now gave him free reign to come check on her whenever he wanted. Which was often.
The first night was the worst. It was impossible to get comfortable, and James refused to sleep in the bed with her. He said he didn't want to accidentally kick her, which, she supposed she understood, but when had he ever? He slept like a rock, unmoving and unable to be moved. So, she woke up feeling unrested, and if she was being honest, a little lonely. It had been over a year since she'd slept without him beside her.
It was Saturday though, and James had the day off. The doctor had warned her that her foot would feel worse before it felt better, and she believed him. Today was slightly worse than yesterday, now that the swelling and bruising had fully set in. She was told to take an anti-inflammatory, but otherwise she just needed to rest.
Which… she was already tired of doing.
Around 11, Juliet hobbled into the kitchen. James was shirtless, prepping vegetables for their lunch. Juliet had requested a garden salad with grilled chicken, and he was hard at work getting everything sliced just right.
"Hey! You ain't supposed to be up!" he called over his shoulder, knife hovering over a tomato.
"I've barely left the bed in 24 hours, James. I can't lay there all the time."
He turned, incredulous. "Oh yes you can. 'Specially when the doc says so."
Juliet rolled her eyes. "I'm a doctor too, you know."
"Yeah, and doctors make the worst patients." He set down the knife fully and started coming towards her.
She tried to hobble away but didn't get very far before his hands were on her hips. "At least let me sit on the couch. I can prop up on the coffee table," she reasoned, and saw the way he was analyzing her. It was cute, how serious he was taking all this.
He considered for several seconds before relenting. "Fine. Go sit. I'll get your stuff."
She grinned, and hopped victoriously over to the couch. As promised, James came back with her book and pillows, and helped prop her up on the coffee table. "Need anything else?" he asked, and ran his hand across her upper arm. She shivered, wishing he'd keep doing it.
"No, I'm good. Thanks."
He moved back to the kitchen to continue his task, and Juliet didn't pick up her book once. The rippling muscles in James's back were much more interesting.
After they had lunch together, James announced he had some chores to do. He brought her some tea before slipping into a pair of tight basketball shorts and baseball cap and heading toward the front door.
"Wait, what're you doing?" Juliet asked, confused. By 'chores,' she thought he meant inside. Like, laundry or sweeping the floors. (It thrilled her to her core that he was tidy. It had been so unexpected, and sexy, to see firsthand.)
He looked outside briefly before looking back at her. "Jared's on the mainland, remember?" he said, as if that explained it. "It's grass day." A faint recollection tickled the back of Juliet's mind. Jared was the groundskeeper. His wife had just had a baby.
Oh right. James and a couple other guys volunteered to pitch in for him while he was gone. Weed-eating, taking care of the gardens, mowing… that must have been scheduled for today.
Oh, Juliet couldn't wait to see this.
"Oh, okay. Have fun," she grinned, and he gave her a small wave before slipping outside.
She waited until she could hear the push-mower before she pulled the cord on the blinds. She leaned in close to the window, waiting for him to pass by. After a few seconds, she saw him.
It didn't matter that he slept beside her every night, that she'd seen him naked almost everyday for over a year. That, at least once a week, they showered together. Because at this point, though he'd only been outside for twenty minutes or so, James was glistening with sweat.
She watched, transfixed, by the sheen across his broad, tanned chest. How when he pushed the mower, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexed. How he bit his lip when going up an incline and how he kept having to stop to wipe the sweat from his eyes.
It got worse when he caught her staring. He shot her a knowing, cheeky little smirk before looking around at the people (or lack thereof) around him. Then, while maintaining a smoldering, physically connecting level of eye contact, James adjusted his shorts, pulling them a little lower on his hips.
Oh sweet lord, Juliet thought, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the v-shape leading below his shorts.
He knew what he was doing. He also knew what this little trick would do to her. She pressed a hand to the glass, beckoning him inside, but he shook his head and carried on, an arrogant smirk on his lips.
He was gone for two hours, and when he finally walked through the front door, Juliet bolted upright on the couch. She set down her book, admiring the view up close.
"I didn't know I'd be getting both lunch and a show today," she purred, and blinked slowly up at him.
"I don't know what you mean," he teased back, toeing off his shoes, his eyes never leaving hers.
Juliet cocked her head to the side. "Go drink some water, you must be thirsty. Then, go shower. When you're done, there's something you need to do for me."
James, still grinning ear to ear, said, "Your wish is my command."
Juliet was on the bed when James finally emerged. She could smell the spicy soap he used wafting from the bathroom, carried by the steam. He was towel drying his hair, wearing absolutely nothing, when he came into the bedroom. She sat up, mouth watering, and drank him in like a fine wine.
"Hold your horses there, sweetheart," he said, her obvious want unmistakeable. "We ain't gonna do that while you're all… you know." He waved a hand at her foot.
"Excuse me?" she almost coughed. James had never once turned her down before. Not for anything.
He smirked, hanging the wet towel on the doorknob. "I didn't say I wasn't gonna finish what I started," he said, voice low and suggestive. Her thighs clenched together at the way he looked at her. "But I just wanted to make sure you knew the rules."
"Rules?"
"Yes. Rules. We ain't gonna do nothin' that could injure you further. Now luckily…" he said, crawling into bed beside her, on her left. "You hurt your right foot. And I'm left-handed." From the way his hand traveled up and down her left thigh, she caught his meaning.
And when he dipped his hand inside her pajama shorts, she thanked her lucky stars for grass day.
—-
It was later that evening when Juliet realized she hadn't bathed since before her injury. She took a cautious sniff into her armpits, wincing.
"Hey James?" she called out, and he came back in, holding a stack of towels. How serendipitous - he must have been folding laundry. God, she loved when he was productive.
"Yeah?"
Juliet frowned. "I think I need to shower."
James looked down to her foot and then back up to her face. "Oh."
"Yeah…"
"I'm guessin' you need help with that." He grinned wide, the cat that caught the canary.
Juliet nodded. "I don't think I'll be able to stand, actually. Maybe I should take a bath instead."
He nodded. "Lemme go get it started." He placed the towels on the bed, and Juliet took the opportunity to stretch out her entire body. She could really get used to this, him taking care of her. It was like a drug. She thought she'd be able to remain independent and surly, but frankly… she liked this.
She smelled lavender as she entered the bathroom. Seeing the opened package of bath salts on the windowsill, she wagered James was trying to make this as nice for her as possible. God, she loved him.
"Didn't know how much to put so I just… threw it in," he said, gesturing vaguely to the bathtub.
"It smells wonderful."
He helped her sit on the closed toilet seat lid, and refused to let her take off her own clothing. She felt like a life size Barbie doll, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of that.
After she was undressed, James picked her up and set her gently into the tub, where she stood on one foot. Then, she bent her knee and he helped her sit down in the water, careful to keep her wrapped foot propped on the tub's ledge.
"How's that?" he asked, eyes roaming her face, searching for signs of pain.
She smiled brightly up at him. "It's perfect. Thank you." She paused, watching him watch her, and then she added, "You know how much I love you, right?"
His smile was instantaneous. "I love you, too," he said, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
After she washed her hair and her body, she called for him to come help her get out. He did, dutifully and without (much) groping, and then brought her into the bedroom to help her put on her pajamas.
Wordlessly, Juliet handed him her hairbrush, looking up at him with doe eyes, the ones she knew he couldn't resist. He just chuckled and took the hairbrush from her, sighing dramatically as he pulled her wet hair to the back. He sat behind her on the bed, one leg on each side of her hips.
"Your hands sprained too, sunshine?"
"Nope. I just love how you do it."
"Oh yeah?" She could hear the smirk under his breath.
"Yes. You brushing my hair always relaxes me."
"So, you're sayin' my hands relax you?"
She turned and shot him a dirty, playful look over her shoulder before turning back around. "Your head's big enough as it is. I should stop talking."
"No, please. Tell me all the things you love about me," he whispered, and kissed the side of her neck. A tingle rushed down her spine, making her gasp.
She swallowed, fighting back the urges creeping back into her lower belly. "Well… I love your smile. But that's a given. With those dimples, you know how wonderful of a smile you have." He chuckled. Yeah, he knew. "I… love your brain. You're so smart, and quick-thinking. You're sharp as a tack and that's always something that's impressed me about you."
"Always?" he asked, still brushing her hair.
Juliet nodded. She'd always been impressed by his ingenuity, even when it had to be kept secret. "I love your voice, too. Did I ever tell you that?"
He stopped, angling to look into her face. "My voice?"
"Mhm."
"What about it? I sound like a hick."
"No, you sound Southern. That doesn't make you a hick, James."
He frowned. "You're the one who sounds all… ethereal, or some shit."
Juliet laughed. She couldn't help it. She'd never heard him use that word before. She'd also never heard such a ridiculous thing in her life. "I do not! And besides, it's not a competition. Your voice is so…" She searched for the word. "Soothing. Like… bourbon. By a campfire. At night." A dreamy smile overtook her face, and James snickered.
"You're looney tunes."
"You love me."
"That I do."
He finished combing her hair, and then an idea sprang to Juliet's mind. "You know, I didn't sleep well last night."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, and set the brush back on the dresser. He stood, running his hands along his crumpled clothes.
"Yeah." She put on a contemplative frown. "You know what would make me be able to take a really good nap?"
He chuckled. "What I did for you earlier?"
Juliet rolled her eyes. "No. Not that." She picked up her book off the nightstand. She had maybe two chapters left. "Read to me."
He blinked, like he was unsure he'd heard correctly. "Read to you?"
"Yes. Read to me. I have two chapters left and I really want to finish before trying to sleep."
"Uhhh… I mean… Aren't you takin' this invalid thing a little too far?"
She put the pout back on, blue eyes blinking up at him where he stood by the bed. "Your voice is lovely, James. Come on. Just two chapters." She waggled the book, showing him just how little was left.
With a brief roll of his eyes, James wordlessly slid into bed beside her. She grinned victoriously, and helped get them both under the covers, her right foot sticking out and propped up on a pillow.
And James read. He stumbled a few times, but he didn't let that stop him. Juliet put her head on his chest, listening to the deep rumble coming from within. She breathed deeply and evenly, and by the time he was finished with the book, she realized she had no idea how the story had actually ended.
"You know what I love most about you, James?"
"What's that, Juliet?"
Juliet smiled, sleepy and warm. "How much you love me. How you care for me, whenever I need you. You're my rock, reliable and strong." She sighed, feeling the edges of darkness overtaking her for what was bound to be a fantastic nap. "I love your heart."
James snuggled in next to her, taking in a deep sharp breath. The last thing she heard before falling asleep was him murmuring, "I love your heart too, baby."