Page 4

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S tone pulled onto the drive that led down a long and narrow lot to Juliana’s condo. The first of the four condos in the small development abutted the street and belonged to a couple who worked for the Falcon’s Rest construction supply company. Juliana’s was the last in the row.

To his left, a fence ran the length of the drive, separating the private property from a city easement. A shopping area lay on the other side of the easement that housed a coffee shop, co-op grocer, and a few other odds and ends stores.

As he backed into one of the two visitor spots shared by Juliana and the condo beside hers, he took a deep breath. The scents in town were not that different from where he lived—pine, dried grass, sun-burned oak—but they mingled with hints of asphalt and, if his nose wasn’t deceiving him, baked goods. Whether the latter was coming from the grocer or the coffee shop, he didn’t know.

Sliding out of the driver’s seat, he shut the door and took a moment to appreciate the sting of sun on his face. The long dry summer left most residents on edge, and the threat of fires hung over them every day. But for now, the sky was clear, the sun was out, and he was going to spend the day with a beautiful woman who, when she smiled at him, made his chest flood with feelings he couldn’t name but liked. A lot. Life didn’t get much better.

Glancing at the clock on his phone, he grimaced. He was fifteen minutes early. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind. If so, he’d pop over to the coffee shop and grab them drinks while she finished getting ready.

Striding up the short walkway, he took in her smattering of water-wise plants. A pale green creeper with tiny white flowers softened the ground, spreading over most of the area. Jasmine climbed two vestibule posts, and seven pots, ranging from one to twenty-five gallons, added color with their eclectic collection of annuals.

He inhaled deeply as he passed the jasmine—one of his favorite scents—then knocked on the door. After the life he’d survived as a child, followed by his years in the military, “nervous” wasn’t really an emotion he experienced. He did recognize pivotal moments, though. Important moments. Moments that balanced on a fulcrum and could tip either way. He wanted this budding relationship with Juliana to tip toward something important, something good. But experience had taught him to be cautious, and so it was with guarded optimism that he waited for Juliana to answer the door.

And waited.

Maybe she hadn’t heard? He was a big guy, and strong, too. He’d intentionally kept his first knock light so as not to sound as if he were pounding on her door. Maybe too light.

Raising his hand, he rapped a little harder, the sharp contact with the wood reverberating through his knuckles. A heartbeat later, he heard a gasp, then something crash to the floor, followed by an even louder cry.

Adrenaline spiked through his system in a painful rush, and he reached for the door handle. “Juliana!” he called. “Are you okay?” The knob turned, but held shut by a deadbolt, the door didn’t open. “Juliana!” he called again, panic swirling through his body as dozens of scenarios danced in his mind, each worse than the one before.

Calling her name one more time, he shifted his weight, calculating the best location to hit the door to break through. He didn’t bother anticipating the pain, Juliana was more important. But as he started moving, she called back.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” she said, her voice strained.

“Juliana?” He wasn’t convinced.

“Give me a second,” she replied.

He craned his head, setting his ear almost to the wood. A little of the tension left his body when he heard footsteps nearing the door, uneven though they were.

The lock turned, and he jerked back as she swung the door open. His training kicked in and in less than three seconds, he assessed the situation. Juliana appeared alone and unharmed. The house looked in order, tidy, not as if there’d been a struggle or fight. The only thing out of place was a sofa table. One end angled away from the back of the couch and, as he looked more closely, he noticed a silver bowl lying on its side on the floor.

Assured of no immediate danger, he returned his attention to Juliana. Her bright blue eyes, though beautiful, were creased around the edges, telling him something wasn’t quite right. Quickly, his gaze swept over her. Her long blond hair fell over her shoulders, curling at the ends just over her breasts. She wore a loose-fitted dark green spaghetti-strap tank top that he assumed contained a built-in bra. He really shouldn’t be noticing her breasts, but it was hard not to—they were spectacular.

Forcing his gaze downward, he continued his inspection over her jean-clad hips, down her gorgeous legs, and to her bare feet.

His heart stopped. Blood covered the first two toes on her left foot.

She had her heel to the ground and the ball of her foot off the floor. It didn’t take more than a heartbeat to figure out the chain of events. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t the end of the world. But blood anywhere on Juliana’s body was not something he could allow.

Without a thought, he stepped into the small foyer, swept her into his arms, kicked the door shut, and headed toward the couch.

She yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck for balance. “Put me down, Simon. You’re going to give yourself a hernia.”

He didn’t bother responding. Instead, he set her gently on the sofa, then perching on the coffee table, he lifted her foot onto his lap and began examining the damage.

“You were a little early and the knock startled me. I stubbed my toe,” she said. “Then the bowl fell off the table and landed on top of my foot,” she added, explaining what he’d seen.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

“It’s fine, Simon. This isn’t the first time it’s happened. Give me five minutes to clean it up, then I’ll be ready to go.”

His gaze caught hers. He’d never been one to opine about a person’s eyes before. Sure, he noticed when they were unusual or striking—like his MC brother Mantis and his moss-green ones—but beyond that, he could honestly say he’d never considered a person’s eyes before. Until Juliana.

The bright cornflower color alone drew a second glance, but the way they conveyed the swirl of her emotions held him. Right now, the tightness in the corners and the slight furrow between them reflected both pain and embarrassment. The pain he understood; the embarrassment, not so much.

“Let me clean it up. Do you have a first aid kit?” he asked again. The furrow deepened as her mood changed from self-conscious to confused.

He counted her breaths—one, two, three—before she answered. “Under the sink in the powder room,” she said, pointing down a short hallway.

He nodded and rose, then paused. “Don’t move,” he said, setting a staying hand on her uninjured toes. She quirked a brow at his order, the left side of her mouth twitching upward, but nodded.

Assured she’d stay off her foot, he found the powder room under the stairs and pulled out the well-stocked kit. On his way back to the living room, he took in the simple layout of the condo. The front room held the sofa, two chairs, a coffee table, and the fireplace. The stairs leading to the second floor anchored the east wall. The back half consisted of the kitchen and the dining area. Not a huge place, but a cozy one.

Colorful art and area rugs covered the stark white walls and carpet. Pictures of people he didn’t know lined both the mantel and the wall behind the dining table. And her dishes, visible in the open-face cabinets, reflected an eclectic and personal taste—some appeared to be handmade in the color of gemstones, others looked vintage from a diverse range of eras, including a set of bowls from the 1970s and four delicate teacups that he’d guess were over a hundred years old.

He grabbed a few paper towels from the kitchen and, after dampening them, added a folded dishcloth to his arsenal before returning to the coffee table. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She hesitated, then inclined her head. “After the first sting and shock, it fades.”

Draping the cloth over his thigh, he lifted her foot, placed it on top, then began dabbing at the blood with the dampened towels. She twitched and instinctively jerked her foot back when he touched the top of her big toe. With his other hand wrapped around her ankle, though, she didn’t move far.

“That’s the origin of the blood, isn’t it?” he asked, more to himself. He hadn’t been sure if she’d injured both toes or only one that had then bled onto the other.

“I can be a little klutzy,” she said.

He didn’t like the undercurrent of apology in her voice. “When I first moved into my new place, I was constantly catching a toe on some corner or another. Besides, you said I startled you.”

She remained silent as he finished cleaning. Once he’d wiped all the blood away, he wrapped a damp towel around her toe and reached for the first aid kit, intending to find antibiotic ointment and a Band-Aid.

A sudden sharp rap on the door caused Juliana to jump again. He dropped the kit and grabbed her ankle to keep her balanced. He hadn’t thought it unusual for her to be startled by his arrival, but seeing her reaction now had his Spidey senses tingling. When her eyes widened and darted to the door, the hair on the back of his neck rose.

He squeezed her ankle. She dragged her gaze from the door to him. Raising a finger to his lips, he urged her to remain quiet. She hesitated, then nodded.

“Are you expecting anyone?” he mouthed. She shook her head, a series of sharp, rapid movements.

Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to his brothers asking if anyone was nearby. He didn’t expect anything dramatic to happen, but it couldn’t hurt to be prepared with backup. Two seconds later, Viper texted that he was on his way through town and three minutes away.

The knock sounded again as Stone replied, asking him to be on standby.

Juliana started to rise, but he stayed her with a hand gesture. She stared at him, then nodded again. Without giving her any warning, he rose and scooped her up. To her credit, she muffled her yelp, although she didn’t refrain from whispering in his ear. “I’m no lightweight, Simon. You’ll throw your back out carrying me around like this.”

Or something like that. He was too distracted by her breath on his skin to really take notice of her words.

He managed to bring himself to let go and set her down on the stairwell out of sight from the door. Then gesturing again for her to remain quiet, he called out, “Who is it?”

A beat passed. “Gas inspector. There’s been a report of a possible gas leak,” a man replied.

Stone looked to Juliana. She frowned and shook her head. Reaching up, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. “I don’t have gas in my unit.”