Chapter Sixteen
The familiar rumble of Hallie’s truck grew louder as it made its way down the driveway, and Julian stood, crossing his bedroom to the window. Sunset was beginning to deepen the Sunday evening sky to orange.
How long had he been sitting there, contemplating the letter on the floor?
And thinking of Hallie.
Not long enough to reach his limit, apparently, because he stared through the glass now, starved for the sight of her. The dogs dove free of the truck first, moving in streaks of fur toward the trees at the back of the house. Hallie didn’t follow right away. She sat in the driver’s seat chewing her lip, unaware that he could see her. That he could witness her indecision or nerves. About . . . seeing him? He hated that possibility as much as he could relate to it. Being around her always left him in a state of hunger and confusion. Regret, too, because he couldn’t seem to stop fucking up and either leading her on or pushing her away.
Finally, Hallie hopped down from the truck, went around to the rear, and lowered the tailgate. Sunset spilled across her shoulders, turning her cheeks gold. She tipped her face toward the sky and closed her eyes to let the fading light kiss her features, and yearning plowed into his stomach. Hard.
Something that scares us.
Hallie would definitely be at the top of that list, but a man didn’t scale Kilimanjaro on his first hike. And would he now be betraying the letter writer if he used the challenge as an excuse to go after what he—might as well admit it—wanted so goddamn bad, he was being tortured day and night by the thought of it? Her? Also known as the beautiful gardener trudging toward his garden in rubber boots, cutoff shorts, and a navy blue hoodie that hung off one shoulder.
In her arms, she carried a pot of what Julian assumed was the dusty miller she’d referred to at the Wine Down event. The dogs trotted over to escort her, sniffing at her elbows and knees. She greeted each of them by name, her voice fading into the evening light as she disappeared around the side of the house. And he moved like an apparition to his office so he could pick up the sound again, hear it in full effect. The silly baby-talk way she spoke to her pets that was beginning to sound totally normal to him. The soft expulsions of breath when she exerted herself or dropped to her knees in the soil. Her voice seemed to fill the entire house, warm and sultry and singularly hers.
Jesus, was he starting to sweat?
Julian was on the verge of returning to the bedroom out of pure necessity, to handle the situation arising in his pants, when his sister’s voice joined Hallie’s outside the office window.
He felt as if ice water were spilling from the crown of his head to his toes.
This wasn’t good.
He didn’t know why exactly it wasn’t good, but it was decidedly not.
Last night at Wine Down, he’d been distracted by Hallie. Too distracted to be careful with his words. It was only after he’d said those revealing things to Natalie about his unyielding drive to make Hallie happy that he wished he could go back in time and cram a cork in his mouth. There’d been more than enough of the bottle stoppers around, after all.
He might have made progress with Natalie last night—they were working their way back to a better sibling relationship, slowly but surely—but unfortunately, she wouldn’t know discretion if it bit her on the ass.
Julian moved at a fast clip toward the front of the house and blew down the steps, only slowing to a sedate walk when the two women came into view. They were smiling, Hallie introducing Petey, Todd, and the General to Natalie, who was still in night shorts and a Cornell T-shirt. “Aren’t you all just the sweetest gentlemen? Yes, you are! Yes. You. Are.”
What was it about dogs that made people talk like that?
The animals were eating it up, too, tails whipping like chopper blades.
They shocked the hell out of Julian by bounding over to him next, reacting with—dare he say—triple the enthusiasm they’d displayed for Natalie? He was oddly pleased by that. Did he have an undiscovered way with animals? He always assumed pets were for other people. People who chose to devote hours of their lives to caring for an animal instead of useful endeavors. Now, looking down at the guileless eyes of Todd, he wondered if being loved unconditionally wasn’t useful after all. “Hello,” he greeted them in a normal voice, patting them each on the head. They weren’t satisfied with that, however, weaving through his legs until he scratched them behind the ears. “Yes, okay, you’re very good boys.”
“They are slobbering on your socks, Julian,” Natalie said, looking at him curiously. “Hey, you . . . forgot to put shoes on? You?”
“Did I?” he murmured, looking down with a pinch of alarm. He’d never gone outside without his shoes before. There was a process to going outdoors, and he’d forgone it completely. The dogs were indeed getting strings of saliva all over the no-nonsense white cotton tube socks, and he would need to change them, but that delay didn’t gut him like it might have before.
How odd.
He looked up to find Hallie watching him with a curious expression. “Evening,” she said, bringing the dogs tangling back in her direction.
“Good evening, Hallie,” he said, his tone deep and formal. And he had no idea why. Only that he wanted to reestablish their footing somehow. Everything between them felt off-kilter, and he was getting really tired of analyzing why their being in balance was so important to him.
Natalie, however, was only getting started.
She split a gleeful look between Julian and Hallie, rocking side to side on the balls of her feet, as if waiting for the starting gun of a race. “So, Hallie. I didn’t put it together last night, but we went to St. Helena High together.” She narrowed an eye. “You were the cool new kid for a while. At least until someone else’s parents decided to move here and open a vineyard.”
Hallie tore her eyes from Julian and beamed at his sister, and his chest crunched like cans in a trash compactor. Jealousy brewed inside of him like a pot of dark roast.
Damn, did he want that smile directed at him, instead.
“That was me. Although I challenge your assessment that I was cool.” Absently, she scratched the General under his chin, still smiling that delighted smile. If she could just glance at him once while it was on her face . . . “You were the one throwing the parties. I had the pleasure of attending one or two.”
“So you’ve seen me topless,” Natalie said conversationally, producing a withering sigh from her brother. “Good to know.”
“They still hold up,” Hallie commented, giving her chest an impressed nod.
“Thank you,” Natalie returned, pressing a hand to her throat.
Julian, for his part, was dumbfounded. “For all intents and purposes, you’ve just met and you’re already discussing your . . .”
“Oh boy, do you think he’s going to say it out loud?” Hallie murmured out of the corner of her mouth. “Ten bucks says he doesn’t.”
“I can’t bet against you. I’d lose and I’m too broke to pay up.” She faced Hallie fully. “You wouldn’t happen to need a firmly titted assistant by any chance?”
Julian slashed a hand through the air. “You are not working together.”
Both female heads swiveled in his direction. One startled. One looking like a cat who was on her way to snuff out the family canary. “Why not?” Natalie drawled. “Are you worried we’d talk about you?” She propped her chin on her wrist. “What could there possibly be to discuss?”
Silence ticked by along with the pulse in his temple.
Hallie looked at him.
In reality, only three seconds passed while he tried to come up with the right words for his inconvenient fixation on Hallie, but it was long enough.
“Nothing to discuss,” Hallie answered for him. For them. With color in her cheeks, she slid her attention back to Natalie. “And, sorry. You’re overqualified, Cornell.”
His sister shook a fist at the sky. “Dammit. Foiled once again by my sharp intellect.”
They shared a fond laugh, visibly considering each other. “Listen, there is a rebound in this town that still needs to be bounded, and he has my name on him. Would you want to attend a tasting with me on Tuesday night? Wine crafted by a former Navy SEAL,” she cajoled, waggling her eyebrows. “I’m sure he’s got a friend. Or two, if you’re into that sort of thing. Or maybe you already have a boyfriend you can bring? I don’t mind being the third wheel—”
“Natalie,” Julian said through teeth that could not be unclenched to save the world. “That’s enough.”
“Says who?” Hallie asked, pivoting to face him.
“Says me.” Idiot.
For once, the dogs were silent.
His sister had the expression of an Olympian holding up a bouquet of roses.
“I didn’t realize you spoke for me.” Hallie laughed, her eyes bright.
“My sister is making trouble out of sheer boredom, Hallie. I’m just trying to prevent you from getting wrapped up in it.”
Natalie reared back a little, looking genuinely hurt. “Is that what I’m doing?”
Hallie laid a hand on Natalie’s arm, squeezing. The look of reproach she gave him was like a line drive to the gut. “Friends don’t let friends go to tastings alone. Someone has to talk you out of buying in discounted bulk. Count me in. But . . .” She avoided his stare. “No plus one. Just me.”
He battled the urge to drop to his knees and worship her.
“Are you sure?” Natalie cut her a sideways glance. “You’re not just saying yes because my brother is being a tool?”
This time she looked him square in the eye. “I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a good forty percent of the reason.”
Natalie nodded, impressed. “I respect your honesty.”
What the fuck was going on? He’d lost his grip on this situation entirely. In the blink of an eye, his sister had become friends with Hallie. Friends who went drinking together in the company of Navy SEALs. Somehow he was the bad guy. But the real problem, the reality he did not want to admit to himself, was that he liked Natalie and Hallie forming a bond. It reminded him of the moment Hallie turned her face to the orange sky and he could hear the dogs barking in the yard, and it hit him like a wave of preemptive melancholia. He’d think of this someday. He’d think of all of it. A lot.
With a rough clearing of his throat, Julian walked on dirty socks back into the house, which really took the dignity out of it all, and stripped the soggy things off before setting foot on the hardwood floor. He threw them into the hamper, on top of his running clothes, and paced back to the kitchen, pouring himself a third of a glass of whiskey, cursing, and adding another inch. He slugged it back, then stood there staring down into his empty glass until the rumble of Hallie’s truck engine brought his head up, just in time for his sister to storm into the kitchen.
“Are you a whole-ass moron, Julian?”
No one had ever asked him a question like that. Perhaps it had been implied by his father, but in a far more aggressive format. “Excuse me?”
Natalie threw up her hands. “Why did you let me let you write back to that secret admirer?”
A mallet swung and connected with his temple. “Hallie told you she knew?”
“In passing. Yes.”
He came as close as he ever would to smashing a glass on the ground. “How does something like that get mentioned in passing? Couldn’t you talk about the weather instead of swapping life stories after a five-minute acquaintance? Jesus!” he shouted. “I told you I didn’t want to do it.”
“You didn’t tell me why!” She raked her fingers through her dark hair. “Oh my God, the way you spoke about her last night and now the chemistry and the angst.” She threw herself backward into the pantry door, rattling it loudly. “I’m going to die.”
It was not good for whatever peace of mind he had left to have someone recognize the connection between himself and Hallie and say it out loud. Why was he suddenly winded? “You think I should pursue Hallie. Is that what I’m getting from your theatrics?”
Her eyes flashed with accusation. “I don’t know if you have a chance with her now, secret-admirer-letter returner.”
Was there a pickax buried in his chest? “You begged me to write that letter!”
She made a disgusted face, flashing him a middle finger. “You want to get tangled up in semantics, fine, but the point is, you blew it. She’s a rare spot of sunshine, and you’re committed to huddling in the shade.” She paused. “Maybe I should write a book, instead of you. That was a sick metaphor.”
Julian started to leave the kitchen. “Speaking of which, I’m going to work.”
“You haven’t written in a week. It’s because of her, isn’t it? You’re all . . . tied in knots and full of woe like a T-Bird in love with a Scorpion. Grease is my comfort movie. Okay?” Her voice rose. “What is the issue with pursuing her?”
He spun around at the mouth of the hall. “She makes me feel out of fucking control,” he snapped. “You’ve been that way your whole life, so maybe you don’t understand why that would be undesirable to someone. She leaves things to chance, she’s flighty, she doesn’t think her course of action through from beginning to end, and chaos is the result. She comes with dirty footprints, and corralling dogs and sticky children, and tolerating lateness. I’m too rigid for that. For her.” A low, distant ringing started in his ears. “I’d dim her glow. I’d change her, and I would hate myself for it.”
Natalie’s throat worked for a series of heavy moments, the room lightening and darkening with a passing cloud. “Learn to let go, Julian. Learn.”
He scoffed, making his throat burn worse. “You say that like it’s easy.”
“It’s not. I know, because I’ve done it in reverse.”
That gave Julian pause, drawing him out of his own misery. In reverse? Natalie had gone from free spirit to . . . dimmed down? Fine, she’d quit her antics, buckled down, and gone to a prestigious college, worked her way up to partner at a major investment firm. But she wasn’t anything like him. Was she? She was full of humor and spontaneity and life.
Unless there was a lot more happening under the surface. A lot he couldn’t see.
She diverted her gaze before he could search for it.
“Come with us Tuesday night, Julian. Don’t live with regrets.”
Julian stared at the empty archway long after Natalie had vacated it, trying to remember how he’d gotten to this point, this edge of the cliff where leaping was necessary. He hadn’t asked for this. Never wanted it. But now?
I’m too rigid for that. For her.
Learn to let go.
That advice had come across as flippant at first. It made sense to him, though. If he knew how to do anything, it was learn. Expand his way of thinking. He’d just never done so in the name of romance. With the intent of . . . what? Was he going after Hallie now? Pursuing her?
The very idea was absurd. Wasn’t it?
They lived an hour and a half away from each other, leading extremely different lives. The fact that they were polar opposites hadn’t changed one iota. Hallie still brought disorder with her wherever she went. And he . . . would dull all of that. He’d squash it. When they first met, he thought she needed to change. Learn to be punctual. More organized. He’d even been so arrogant as to critique her as a gardener and decide she could do with some symmetry training. Now the idea that she would change, even in the slightest, on his account made Julian feel seasick.
Then learn.
It would have to be him that changed.
Pursuing Hallie meant easing his grip on time management. It meant learning to exist without the constraints of minutes and hours. Living with paw prints on his pants and understanding that she would do inconceivable things like volunteer to babysit thirty children and stuff them with donuts. Or steal cheese in broad daylight.
Why was he smiling, dammit?
He was. He could see his reflection in the microwave.
I propose that we both do something that scares us this week.
Was it in bad taste to take the advice from his secret admirer and use it to suit his purposes with Hallie? Probably. But, Jesus, now that he’d given himself permission to go get her, a rush of anticipation started in the crown of his head, blasting down to his feet so swiftly, he had to lean against the wall.
Okay, then.
My goal is to date her. My goal is to be her boyfriend.
He could barely hear his own thoughts over the ruckus his heart was making.
And yes, he was going to try his damndest to stop stuffing everything in life into the parameters of a plan and a schedule. But not when it came to this. To her. He needed a plan for winning her, because something deep in the recesses of his chest told him this was too important to be left up to chance.