Page 69 of The Desperate Warrior

A slow smile crept across his face. “You? Live in the moment? Jules, you’re the queen of planning.”

“True,” she acknowledged. “But planning hasn’t helped me much lately, so maybe I should just take a page out of Nikki’s playbook and go with the flow.”

He pulled her even closer.

She liked the feel of her body pressed against his. She liked it way too much. It wouldn’t take much for her to get lost in him. If only she could trust him with her heart.

“Like right now?”

Her breath hitched as he leaned in so agonizingly close.

A low, warm anticipation stirred in her belly. Her gaze lifted to meet his, and she instinctively parted her lips just before his mouth came down on hers. His kiss was soft at first—searching, uncertain—but then he deepened the interaction as she curled her arms around his neck and melded into him. Her world spun as emotion surged. They kissed long and hard, holding nothing back. This was what she’d missed. What she’d craved ever since she’d been apart from him.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, a pleased smile broke over his face.

“I could get used to this living-in-the-moment thing.”

She laughed. “Yeah … maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all.”

He searched her face. “So where does this leave us?”

She shrugged. “Like I said … no promises. Let’s just get through this ordeal and see where we land.”

Disappointment flickered in his eyes, but he nodded. “Fair enough. Here’s to living in the moment,” he murmured as his lips captured hers once again.

Chapter 17

The air crackled with anticipation as Jules, perched on a stool and given the task of chopping up fresh veggies, watched Nikki buzz around the kitchen like a bee hyped up on caffeine as she worked to get everything perfect before the guests arrived. Nikki was frantic with her flushed cheeks, but Jules could tell that her cousin loved every minute of the crazy rush.

Nikki removed a plastic-covered bowl from the fridge. “Tada,” she exclaimed with gusto as she held it up for Jules to see. “I can’t wait for you to try this spinach dip. I watched a YouTube video on how to make it. There were lots of comments talking about how delicious it is.” She retrieved a spoon from the drawer, removed the plastic, and took a generous bite.

Jules was chopping a cucumber. She paused mid-action. “What do you think?”

Nikki made a face. “It’s awful,” she moaned. “So sour.” She plopped the spoon down on the counter with a loud plink. “I followed the recipe to a T.” She thrust out her lower lip. “This is a disaster.”

Amusement circled through Jules. Nikki could be so dramatic. It was just one dip amongst the long list of items that Nikki had either prepared or bought.

She pushed the spoon towards Jules. “Here, taste it.”

Jules hesitated before reaching for the spoon and taking a small bite. Her lips instantly puckered. “Yeah … that is way too sour.” She scrunched her face.

“I don’t get it,” Nikki said, deflated. “I followed the recipe,” she said again as if it were a disclaimer.

“Try a little sweetener,” Jules suggested, “to balance out the tartness.” No, she wasn’t a good cook, but she at least knew that trick.

Nikki let out a beleaguered sigh as she brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “What can it hurt, right?”

“Try the natural maple syrup. It’s in the fridge.”

Nikki turned and went to retrieve it.

It had already been a hectic day, and the party hadn’t even started. Jules worked her regular shift at the clinic while Brock dutifully waited for her in his SUV. After coming together on Wednesday night, they’d been riding together instead of taking two separate cars. When they got back home this afternoon, they found Nikki in full-blown party mode—putting up decorations, fine-tuning playlists, and prepping all of the food. Of course, she treated Luke like her hired assistant and ordered him around. To his credit, he took the treatment like a champ, which made Jules wonder if the two of them were getting serious.

Jules had just finished cutting up the last of the veggies when Brock entered the kitchen and stepped up beside her. His eyes swept over her with open appreciation. “Wow,” he uttered. “You look great.”

She glanced down at her royal blue silk blouse and linen slacks. “Thanks,” she murmured, grateful that he’d noticed. She actually felt pretty tonight—for the first time since the accident. It was nice to be on the mend. And it was nice to have Brock be so attentive.

Since their dance and those pulse-pounding kisses on Wednesday night, things had been so much better. It was as if the storm between them had finally broken at the same time it had done so outside. In its place, something softer was taking shape.

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