“No,” she said a little urgently as she tipped her face up, her eyes sparkling in the early-evening light. “I love sitting on the deck, watching the waves kiss the shore. I’ll get used to the temperature. I promise. It was just the initial shock of cold air.”
She was so damn cute, pleading her case like he was going to try to talk her out of the best part of her day. He was surprised to realize that no part of him wanted to leave. “You don’t have to convince me, Pix.”
“You’re not cold?”
“I’m getting hotter by the second,” he gritted out, powerless to hold back the honest remark. Jules had that impact on him a lot lately.
“Oh,” she said softly, her long lashes fluttering over her blushing cheeks.
Her eyes darkened, turning cute into an alluring mix of innocence and sensuality, as she had the night in the vines. He had an overwhelming urge to crush his mouth to hers and take the kiss he’d been fantasizing about all week. He could only imagine how sweet and hot her mouth was and how her tongue would feel sliding against his. The thought simmered to a burn, awakening his other parts that wanted to get in on the Jules Steele action. Fuck. What was she doing to him?
He cleared his throat and forced himself to take a step back. “We should sit down so you can eat.”
They went to the front of the building where the deck met the beach, and to their right, there was a step down to a covered patio. The main entrance to the restaurant was boarded up tight, and another CLOSED sign hung there. The rickety, weathered gray fence that had once held colorful lanterns was nearly completely engulfed in wild bearberry bushes. They sat on the edge of the deck with their shoes in the sand, and Grant handed Jules the bag from Trista’s.
The breeze blew her hair off her shoulders as she looked out at the water with the most peaceful expression and closed her eyes, a small smile curving her lips. She opened her eyes a few seconds later, sighing happily. “Thanks again for paying for my dinner. Well, our dinner.”
“No problem.” He was a little jealous of her ability to tune out the world like that, even if for only a few seconds.
She withdrew an enormous submarine sandwich from the bag and set it in her lap. As she emptied the bag, she set each item on the deck between them—a small salad, a peach yogurt, a bag of chips, an M&M cookie, and a bottle of unsweetened iced tea. She tucked a few napkins under her leg and put the empty bag under her other leg. “I hope you like subs. We’ll have to share the drink.” She unwrapped the sandwich and handed him half. “A hero sandwich for our resident war hero.”
His gut seized at the word hero.
He put his hand over hers as he took half of the sandwich, holding her gaze. “Please don’t call me that, Jules.”
“Oh, shoot. I forgot you don’t like it. I’m sorry. But you are a hero. You got awarded the Purple Heart.”
“Getting blown up doesn’t make me a hero. I’m no different from any of the other men or women who fought before me or after me. If I’m a hero, then so are they, and if you really think about it, every girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse, and kid back home is a hero, too, for carrying on without them.” He focused on the sandwich as he set it on his lap, and her hand slid into view as she placed it over his. When he lifted his eyes to hers, the emotions in them nearly did him in.
“By that logic,” she said sweetly, “every parent and sibling of a soldier is a hero, too, because they’re missing their loved ones, praying for them, and hoping they’ll see them again.”
A lump formed in his throat, thinking about his family getting the call when he was injured. He carried a hell of a lot of guilt about that and about how he’d handled it when his family had flown out to see him in the hospital while he was recovering from surgery. He’d just found out that Darkbird didn’t send amputees into the field, and because of his hearing loss, he had no hope of ever going back, even with another company. He’d been in denial, full of piss and vinegar. When Grant told them he wanted to get back out in the field, his mother and sisters had cried rivers, and his father had laid into him about having a death wish and it being time to come home. He had gone so far as to try to forbid him from even thinking about going back. They’d gotten into a hell of an argument, adding more fuel to his anger.
“I get what you’re saying, though. The injury doesn’t make you a hero. But you were on a mission for our country. That makes you a hero.” Jules leaned closer and said, “But if you don’t like being called that word, I won’t say it. I’m just glad you’re here with me, eating dinner by the sea, on the deck of the Bistro.”
He felt another tug in his chest, and the truth came unexpectedly. “Me too.”
Their eyes connected, and just like when he’d told her not to waste her time on him, the air between them pulsed hot and heavy, swelling with desire. He’d never felt anything so primal, so inescapable. Could she feel it, too? Her cheeks pinked up, and she tore her eyes away, fumbling with her sandwich. Hell yes, she felt it all right.
“Now that I understand the rules around the word hero, let’s eat.” She bit into her sandwich.
She was really something else. He’d never met a woman who was as sexy as she was innocent, and it was doing crazy things to him, like making him sit on the deck of the Bistro as the sun went down, eating a hero sandwich. He was becoming more curious about Jules by the minute. He eyed the mound of food between them. “Was this all for you, or were you supposed to have dinner with someone else?”
“It was for me. Now it’s for us.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way a little thing like you can eat all that.”
“I know, but I wasn’t sure what I’d want. Sometimes I order a sandwich, and when I sit down to eat, I wish it was salad, or yogurt, or dessert. I’ve learned to order everything I might want and save whatever I don’t eat for the next day.” She wrinkled her nose. “I bet you think that’s ridiculous, too.”
“Actually, I think it’s pretty smart.” And a very Jules thing to do. “For the record, I never said you were ridiculous.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. But I know everyone makes fun of me when I do things like this and for the weird things I say and how I sing. I know they love me, and I am a little different. I see the world through rose-colored glasses, but I like it that way.”
Her ownership of her quirks was as attractive as the rest of her, and it made him want to protect her. He remembered what he’d said to Archer about Jules’s happy shit and silently gave himself hell for it. “Anyone who thinks you’re ridiculous is just jealous because they aren’t clever enough to think of doing things the way you do.” Myself included. Life would be a lot easier if he could let things roll off his back the way he used to. “Besides, the only opinion that matters is the one coming from the person in the mirror.”
“Then I’m in good shape, because she loves who I am. Don’t you feel that way?”
He cocked a brow in amusement. “I think you’re a surprisingly cool chick, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Thank you,” She leaned over the food between them, bumping her shoulder to his. “But I meant does the person you see in the mirror like who you are.”