“The hell you will. I’m not wearing makeup.”
“Yes you are.”
“Jules,” he warned.
“It’s a Halloween party and it’s Bellamy’s favorite holiday. Mine, too. Well, next to Christmas, of course. The Christmas tree lighting at Majestic Park is so fun! But turkey and stuffing bring Thanksgiving up to the top of my list, too. Oh, and Valentine’s Day. Although I’ve never had a real Valentine, I still love the holiday. And then there’s—”
“Jesus, Jules. You win. You can put makeup on me. Just don’t make me look like a chick.”
GRANT FOLLOWED JULES inside, unable to take his eyes off her in those heels and that sexy little getup with green bows at the waist like she was a gift sent just for him. She had always been pretty, but damn…little Jules Steele had grown into a mighty fine woman. He’d been doing his best not to notice these last few years because he was tight with her brothers. They’d been thick as thieves growing up, along with their buddy Brant Remington. Their parents were best friends, and the three families had always spent a lot of time together. But Jules didn’t make it easy for him to keep himself in check, brightening his doorstep every week trying to sprinkle her freaking happy dust like confetti, reminding him about community events, and inviting him to bonfires and get-togethers, like the freaking island entertainment director.
He definitely shouldn’t be checking her out, but with Jules prancing around in that fantasy-inducing outfit, he couldn’t help himself. Just like before he’d left for his last mission, when he’d caught himself flirting with her. His amputation had shut down that craziness, but now…fuck.
“This is homey,” she said sweetly as he closed the door behind them.
The place was a dump, but he was comfortable there. When he had returned to the island this summer, Brant’s father, Roddy, had handed him the key to his bungalow, just as he had when Grant’s parents had first separated all those years ago, when Roddy had found him wandering on the beach early one morning, too pissed off to be anywhere near home. Back then, Roddy had filled the refrigerator with food, stocked the shelves with books, and had let Grant come and go as he pleased. Grant didn’t find out until years later that Roddy had, of course, let his parents know where he was hiding out for hours each day. It hadn’t come as a shock. That’s how the island worked. It takes a village and all that shit.
Grant looked at Jules sideways.
“What? I like it.” Jules smiled brightly. “If it were me, I’d put up curtains, but you probably don’t get scared out here all alone.”
Her kindness was appreciated, though not necessary. But that was Jules, finding silver linings in everyone and everything.
“It’s a shit hole, but I’m not sure if I’m sticking around. I’m going to grab a shirt.”
He headed into his bedroom and heard the tap, tap, tap of her heels on the hardwood floor. Crash, the stray cat who had shown up in his yard nearly two months ago, thin as a rail and scared as a rat in a snake den, was sleeping on his pillow.
He dug a long-sleeved black shirt out of his drawer, catching sight of the crutches next to his bed, which he used when he wasn’t wearing his prosthesis. His gaze drifted to the bathroom, and his gut knotted. Hopefully, Jules wouldn’t have to use it. A shower chair and handrails didn’t exactly say alpha warrior. When Grant had asked Roddy if he could rent the place for a few months, he’d also asked if it would be all right if he installed the handrails, but when he’d shown up that evening, the job had already been done. Good old Roddy. As necessary as those modifications were, they were constant reminders of how much his life had changed, like the pitying looks he now received from islanders who had known him all his life. He hadn’t told anyone that his leg wasn’t the only thing he’d lost on his last mission. He’d also lost the majority of the hearing in his left ear. He could only imagine how many would think they had to yell in order for him to hear them, and he didn’t need that shit.
He pulled on his shirt as he went into the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him. Jules was standing with her back to him, humming and bopping her head and hips as she folded the blanket he’d used last night when he’d slept on the couch. In that sparkly dress that barely covered her ass, with half her golden-brown hair pinned up on the top of her head like a fountain and the rest tumbling over her shoulders around her fancy wings, she looked about as out of place in the weary old bungalow as he felt on the island—and too damn sexy for her own good. His cock twitched. He looked down at the offending body part that hadn’t seen any action, much less twitched in interest, since he’d lost his leg.
After all this time, you pick my buddies’ little sister to turn you on? The girl who used to pick flowers for anyone who had the flu or a cold and leave them on their doorstep bundled with ribbons? Don’t even think about it.
Jules was too freaking sweet for the likes of him, especially in his current state. Besides, he was in no rush to have any woman see his mangled body.
He cleared his throat, and she spun around, that gorgeous smile hitting him like a dose of sunlight.
“Wow. You look great in black,” she said cheerily. “Your sisters say you should cut your hair, but I like it longer. It suits the new you.”
“The new me? You mean an asshole?”
She shook her head, her smile never faltering. “I know you, Grant Silver. You’re not an a-hole. You’re a guy whose life has been drastically changed. Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” He felt a stab of guilt for being a jerk. “Where do you want me?”
She laid the blanket over the back of the couch and patted it. “Here is good.”
An image of Jules bent over that couch as he took her from behind flew into his head, and he gritted his teeth. Christ. This was a very bad idea.
He sat down on the couch, and she set the case she’d been carrying on the end table, humming as she unloaded a ton of makeup.
“That’s a lot of shit.”
“Don’t worry. I watched Indi do everyone’s makeup. You’re going to be the best-looking zombie at the party.”
He had a feeling he was already looking at the best-looking zombie on the island.
She parted his knees and stood between them. Are you fucking kidding me? You, in fuck-me heels and a minuscule outfit, standing between my legs? How the hell was he going to get through this?
Her brows knitted. “You’re scowling again.” She sighed and reached into the top of her costume, pulling out a miniature Almond Joy candy bar. “Eat this.”
Those words coming out of her sexy mouth…
His eyes were riveted to her cleavage. “What else ya got in there?” came out before he could think to stop it. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t flirt with Jules.
“Special treats for bad boys.” She handed him the candy, as if she hadn’t sounded like she was offering herself up to him. “Have a Snickers. It’ll make you feel better.”
He looked curiously at the white and blue wrapper. “You mean Almond Joy.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t. My father swapped all the Almond Joys for Snickers because—”