Page 61 of Unpacking Secrets

The mudroom led to a beautiful kitchen, well-lit and perfectly appointed. Juliet’s gaze went straight to the high-end appliance in question.

“I never knew stove-envy was a thing, but apparently I have it.”

Libby laughed and set a casserole on the kitchen island, then wrapped Juliet in a warm hug. I snickered when her eyes widened in shock.

“I forgot to tell you, she’s a hugger,” I whispered loudly.

Juliet glared at me, but she awkwardly patted Libby’s back. “Thank you for having us.”

When Libby drew away, she held onto Juliet’s shoulders and studied her forehead closely. “That’s healed up nicely. I hope you’ve been resting that knee?”

Juliet flushed scarlet under the fluorescent kitchen lights, clearly thinking about all the things she’d done on her knees in the past twenty-four hours. I burst out laughing, so Libby turned and whacked me with an oven mitt.

“Nevermind, I don’t need the details,” she sang out. “Henry, why don’t you go help Mark outside?”

Juliet turned her face to me in a silent plea not to leave her alone while Libby’s back was turned, but I winked at her, pulled my shoes back on, and headed toward the yard. Mark stood at the grill, wearing sunglasses and humming along to the music streaming from his phone. He turned when the screen door closed behind me.

“Hey, man.” He reached over to grab me around the neck and dragged me in for a hug. “It’s about time I finally get to meet your lady, you jerk. What’s taken so long?”

I scrubbed a hand over my face, realizing I still hadn’t shaved. Juliet seemed to like the scruff, so maybe I’d leave it—she certainly liked it when I ran that roughness along the inside of her lovely thighs. With Mark still studying me, I forced the image from my mind and gave a shrug.

“I’ve been helping her sort through Nan’s boxes after work,” I said simply.

Mark slid his glasses down his nose to look at me. “I have to call bullshit on that one, buddy. I know what happiness looks like on you. It’s been too long since I’ve seen it.”

It was true; Iwashappy, and I couldn’t remember when I’d last felt like this. Not for the first time, a knot of emotion lodged in my throat when I thought about how lucky I was to still have such good friends in Mark and Libby. I didn’t regret much in my life, but if my failed marriage had led to losing the two of them, I wasn’t sure I could have handled that.

“She’s . . . special. And I almost ruined my chance with her before we even knew each other.”

“Almost doesn’t matter, man. You’re with her now. Don’t blow it, yeah?”

“I’ll do my damnedest,” I replied.

He studied my face for another moment, then said, “What else is up?”

In a quiet tone, I gave him a rundown about the news articles Nan had hidden away, the incident at Cooper’s Point, my odd experience that morning at the cottage, and the gouges I’d found in that tree. Mark was an avid historian and eager to help dig into the events surrounding Melissa’s departure from Spruce Hill—and he was more than willing to recruit others from our small circle of friends to keep an eye out for any strange happenings around town.

I felt a hundred pounds lighter knowing that Juliet would have other people looking out for her, as well.

“Libby was pretty taken with her,” Mark offered, “and, of course, with your knight in shining armor routine. You should have heard her gushing about it. Hell, man, if you were any other guy, I would’ve punched you right in the balls. Good thing I know I’m better in the sack.”

I put my arm around Mark’s shoulders, then wrangled him into a headlock. “Punched me, huh? You could have tried.”

After a few minutes of tussling, I caught sight of Juliet through the big bay window of the dining room and lost my train of thought. Mark followed my gaze, chuckled, and shook his head in amusement. Of course, he then used my distraction to reverse our positions, dropping me to my knees with his forearm around my throat. As long as Juliet was in view, I was willing to cede the high ground.

“Damn, bro, you’ve got it bad,” he muttered.

“I’ve never met anyone like her,” I replied. It was both that simple and that complex.

Through the window, we watched as Juliet focused on placing the plates and napkins just so, then on repositioning the flowers in a vase at the center of the table.

My beautiful artist,I thought with a surge of affection.

Mark was absolutely right. I had it bad.

Twenty-Four

Juliet

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