pro... He’d made every decision without asking her opinion. Okay, she understood that he wasn’t obliged to check in with her but she had run everything past him and he did talk to her about his dreams, his plans. That Christmas season, Noah had clammed up and it felt like twenty-plus years of friendship had meant nothing to him...
That he and Morgan never married wasn’t a surprise, nor was it a consolation. He’d wasted two years of his time, his money and attention on Morgan, but it was his time and money to waste. Still, Jules couldn’t help feeling that his engagement was a big “up yours” to their newly discovered attraction. His lack of communication, blasé explanations and his lack of effort to maintain their friendship had severed their connection. Because she would never be able to fully trust him again, they could never be friends again.
And being lovers was out of the question. That required an even deeper level of trust she was incapable of feeling.
“Did you date anyone in California?” Darby asked her, pulling her attention off the past.
She had actually. “Mmm.”
“Really? And...?” Darby asked, intrigued.
“Two dates and I called it quits. Since we live on opposite sides of the country, there was no point.”
She always gave guys two dates to make an impression before she moved on, thinking that dating was stressful and who got anything right the first date? If they had potential, she extended the period, making sure that hands and mouths stayed out of the equation. Not many made it to twelve weeks and most of those didn’t pass her was-he-a-better-kisser-than-Noah? test. Actually, none of them were better kissers, but the two who came close made it into her bed. One lasted another few weeks; the other went back to his ex-girlfriend.
She hadn’t had a relationship that went beyond four months since college...and at nearly thirty she’d only had three lovers. How sad was that?
Yet, she continued to date, thinking that one day she’d find someone who made her forget about that nuclear hot kiss on a snowy evening so damn long ago. She had to find someone. There was no way she’d allow her best sexual memory to be of Noah Lockwood...ten years or four days ago.
“Maybe I should go back on Tinder,” Jules mused, mostly to herself. But at the thought, her heart backed into the corner of her chest, comprehensively horrified. She didn’t blame it, meeting guys on the internet was a crappy way to find love. Or to find a date with a reasonably normal man.
“Oh, come on,” DJ retorted, calling her bluff. “Psychos, weirdos and losers. You don’t need any of that.”
“Says the girl who has sex on a semiregular basis,” Jules murmured. Since college, DJ had an on-off relationship with Matt, a human rights lawyer, who dropped in and out of her life. It was all about convenience, DJ blithely informed them, and about great sex with a guy she liked and respected.
Jules wanted one of those.
“Please stay off the net, Jules,” Darby begged. “You are a magnet for crazies.”
Jules couldn’t argue the point. All she wanted was to meet guys like her brother and Eli and Ben. Despite their grasshopper mentality when it came to women, the three of them—even, dammit, Noah—were interesting, smart, driven and successful men. They were honest and trustworthy—well, three out of four were—and she wanted a man like them and her dad. Was she asking too much? Were her brother and her friends the last good men left in Boston? And if she found that elusive man, would she ever be able to trust him not to hurt her long enough for her to fall in love? Or would her fear send her running?
DJ gently kicked her shin with the toe of her shoe and Jules blinked, lifting a shoulder at DJ’s scowl. “What?”
“Why don’t you take a break from dating for a while, Jules? You’ve been scraping the barrel lately. Whatever you are looking for, you’re not finding.”
Darby tipped her head. “What are you looking for?”
Jules stared out of the window. I’m looking for a guy who makes me feel as alive as I do when Noah kisses me. I’m looking for a guy who will make me stop thinking about him, stop missing him, who will fill the hole he left in my life. I’m looking for someone who will make me feel the same way I did during that bold, bright moment the other day. Noah can’t be the only man who can make me feel intensely alive... That would be cruel. No, there is someone else out there. There has to be...
Noah was the only man who made her explore the outer edges of love and despair, attraction and loathing. Kissing Noah made her feel sexy and feminine and powerful beyond measure. But his actions when they were younger made her feel insignificant and irrelevant. He’d hurtled her from nirvana into a hell she hadn’t been prepared for.
He’d dismissed her opinions, ignored her counsel, and those actions she could, maybe, forgive. But she’d never forgive him for destroying their friendship, for flicking her out of his life like she was a piece of filthy gum stuck to his shoe.
DJ clapped her hands, signaling that she was moving into work mode. Jules forced herself to think business. She had designs to draw up for a revamp to a historic bed-and-breakfast, craftspeople to meet to finalize the furnishings for a bar in Back Bay. Maybe she should stop dating for a while and immerse herself in work. They had enough of it to keep them all busy for months, if not years.
“Profit and loss, expense reports... I need your receipts,” DJ said, and Jules wrinkled her nose. “I need the cost estimates on the Duncan job.”
“Ack,” Jules said. She loved designing but hated the paperwork it generated. “Deadline?”
“Yesterday.”
“Hard-ass,” Jules muttered.
“I am,” DJ replied, not at all insulted. “That’s why we are in the black, darling. It’s all me.”
Darby and Jules laughed, knowing that DJ was joking. They were a team and each of them was an essential cog in the wheel. As always, they were stronger together.
Darby looked at her watch and stood up, nearly six feet of tall grace. Jules looked out of the window and lifted her hand to wave at Dani, the personal assistant they shared, Merry, their shop floor assistant and their two interns.
Her smiled faded when she saw who was standing behind them, six feet four inches of muscle wearing chinos, a blue oxford shirt and a darker blue jacket. His wavy hair was cut short and, like always, he was days beyond shaving that dark blond scruff off his face.
Through the display window, his eyes met hers and her stomach contracted, her heart flip-flopped and all the moisture in her mouth disappeared.
It seemed that Noah did indeed intend to talk.
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