Nome-o Seeks Juliet (An Odds-Are-Good Standalone Romance, #2) Page 8

  Three weeks ago, she threw up when she saw my hands...tonight, she voluntarily pressed her palms against mine.

  Doesn’t she know how dangerous it is for a beautiful woman to be sweet to a guy like me? I could be stupider than stupid and start falling for her, just because it’s been so long since a single woman has shown me any kindness.

  It doesn’t mean anything, Cody, I tell myself. What looks like mixed signals to you, is just her being herself.

  I mean, I think.

  No. Fuck that. I know. I know. She’s not interested in me. She’s not. She’s just a nice person who gives out nice compliments because it’s a nice thing to do. She’d probably be horrified to know that a few kind words could twist around my desperate, pathetic heart and make me wish for things that can never come true.

  Once upon a time, when I was a good looking eighteen-year-old kid who’d had his share of sweet, young, high school pussy, I might have had a right to wonder about Juliet’s kind words and gentle touches, even with the age difference between us. But that journey ended when I got shipped home. I haven’t been laid since, and honestly, I don’t really know if I expect to have sex again in this lifetime.

  Probably not.

  What woman would want to feel my freakish hands on her skin? My burnt, mangled flesh caressing her cheeks or cupping her breasts or stroking the stiff, wet button of her—

  “Fuck,” I whisper, looking down at my hands, half submerged in dish soap bubbles.

  No one. That’s who.

  And certainly not Juliet Sanderson, who just made it extremely clear that tonight is not a date. It’s—how did she put it?—two people drinking an alcoholic beverage together. Oh, the romance.

  I drain the sink, turn on the water, and rinse the dishes before putting them in a drying rack beside the sink. I guess I could change my shirt or jeans, which are both covered in mud, dirt and dog hair, but why should I? I’ve never changed before when I went to the Klondike for a drink. And Juliet and I aren’t on a date, after all.

  That said? I have a responsibility to her as my teammate. I wasn’t about to let her head into town all alone. Since that fucking show Bering Sea Gold started, there are always young guys hanging out in town on Friday and Saturday nights. Thousands of people come to Nome every summer to get rich quick, and when they get drunk together, good manners can sometimes be in short supply. I’ve shied away from fights because I don’t know that I could win anymore, but fuck, I’d figure out how to take a swing at someone if it was Juliet’s comfort or honor on the line.

  I grab my coat and wallet from my room, then sit down on one of the two couches in my living room to wait for her, trying not to flick my eyes toward the stairs like I’m waiting for a prom date.

  But the second I hear her boots on the landing, I’m on my feet, staring up at that staircase like God himself is about to descend from heaven.

  And in a way, that’s exactly what happens. Except it’s not God. It’s just His grace in the form of a beautiful girl.

  She’s changed into clean jeans, a plaid flannel shirt, a bright-maroon fleece jacket and a cream-colored down vest. Her hair, which she always wears in a braid, has been unwoven and falls over her shoulders in long, light-blonde waves. And her face. Jesus. I’ve never seen Juliet wearing makeup before, but her lips are the same color as her fleece, and her eyes are all dark and sexy. She’s fucking gorgeous, and she’s here. In my house. With me.

  For a split-second, I feel like that cocky eighteen-year-old again and remember the long-forgotten pleasure of knowing that a beautiful woman dressed up special just for me.

  Halfway down the steps, she grins at me, and asks, “Ready to go?”

  Her voice snaps me out of my minitrance.

  She’s not dressed like this for you, jackass. Get it the fuck together.

  “Yeah,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets and looking away from her. “I just need to grab my gloves.”

  I don’t need to grab my gloves. I have no idea why I said that.

  I’m nervous, and I have no reason to be.

  Non-date, I remind myself.

  “I’ll wait in the truck,” she says, sweeping out the front door and leaving it slightly ajar for me.

  After waiting a beat, during which I tell myself that she’s my teammate and nothing more, I follow her outside, pulling the front door shut behind me.

  ***

  I don’t often go to the Klondike after six o’clock, and frankly, I haven’t gone to town on a Friday or Saturday night in years, but I still know what to expect. The bar area is full to bursting, and the back room, where there’s pool and pinball machines, isn’t much better.

  On the bright side, however, they’ll be gone soon. Aside from needing the snow to do some real training with my dogs, it’ll clear out at least half of these guys who aren’t interested in being here for a long, cold winter. Fuck, I wish the snow would start now.

  Rita sees me walk in from her station behind the bar and gestures to the other side of the room. Assuming there’s space to sit down at the end of the bar, I shoulder through the crowd, keeping my head down and only glancing back to be sure that Juliet is following me.

  “It’s busy here!” she says when we finally get to the two empty seats by Jonas in the corner.

  “Yeah. It’s popular on the weekends.”

  “Cody!” says Rita. “Been an age! Wanna Husky?”

  I nod, shrugging out of my parka and taking a seat on one of the two empty stools. “Yeah. Two, please, Rita.”

  “You got it.”

  Juliet sits down between me and Jonas, grinning at me like she thinks this place is terrific. “What’s a Husky?”

  “Alaskan beer.”

  “Oh! Great!”

  “How ya been, Cody?” Jonas leans forward, placing an elbow on the bar, so he can see around Juliet. “Doing good out there?”

  “Yeah. Good.” I flick my chin at the woman between us. “Jonas, this is Juliet. Juliet, this is Jonas. Local vet.”

  “You’re the local vet?” she asks, smiling at him as they shake hands. “I’m a DVM student at the University of Minnesota.”

  “You don’t say!”

  She nods. “I’m in my final year.”

  “Good school, U of M. Went to Colorado myself, though.”

  “My advisor went to Colorado,” she says. “Sheila Grant.”

  “Can’t say as I know her.”

  Rita returns with the two open bottles and two iced pint glasses. And hand-to-God, before this moment, I didn’t even know the Klondike had iced pint glasses. Rita’s trying to impress someone.

  “Here’s your beers,” says Rita, holding out her hand to Juliet. “I’m Rita. How’d you like your room?”

  “Lovely.” Juliet shakes her hand, smiling back. “Did you help Cody with my room?”

  “Yep,” she says, pouring our beers into the chilled glasses. “I helped him buy all that stuff and get it set up.”

  “Did you do the white lights?” asks Juliet. “The Christmas lights?”

  Rita’s brow furrows. “What now?”

  “The...lights? And the ribbo—”

  I pick up my glass quick and clank it against Juliet’s. “Cheers!”

  Distracted from her conversation with Rita, Juliet says, “Cheers,” before taking a long sip of beer that finishes off the first third of her glass. I can’t lie. I’m impressed.

  “You smiling, Cody? Jesus, I didn’t know you had s’many teeth!” cries Rita before whooping with laughter. She grins at Juliet. “Wonders never cease! Ain’t seen this one crack a smile in years. You’re good for him, kassaq.”

  Rita disappears to help customers, and Juliet turns to me. “What’s a guss-ick?”

  “A white girl,” I tell her. “In Yup-ik.”

  “Yup-ik?”

  “Rita’s Yupik,” Jonas explains. “Group of Eskimo people that live along the Bering Sea. She’s from an island called Nunivak.”

  “Ah,” says Juliet. “Near here
?”

  “Not so far,” says Jonas. “So you’re almost a vet, eh?”

  She nods. “Yep. I’m doing a fellowship this semester. When I go back, I’ll do a thirteen-week rotation at the clinic and then ten weeks at my dad’s practice.”

  “He’s a vet too?”

  She nods. “In Missoula.”

  “How you like racing with Cody?”

  She turns to me, offering a sweet smile before looking back at Jonas. “He’s very patient. I don’t know if I’m a very good student, though.”

  “You are,” I say. “You’re doing a great job.” I look at Jonas, who’s watching us with interest, his eyes flicking back and forth between us like he’s figuring out a puzzle. “Dogs love her.”

  “I bet,” says Jonas softly, glancing at Juliet for a longer beat before looking back at me. “Think she’ll be ready for the Qimmiq in January?”

  “I do,” I say, just as Juliet says, “Let’s hope so!”

  She giggles, clinking her glass with mine, then chugs the rest of her beer. Hot damn, the woman can drink.

  “And then back to Minnesota?” asks Jonas, sliding his eyes to my face as she answers.

  “Yep,” she says. “Spring semester starts on January twenty-first.”

  I pick up my own beer and finish it off, gesturing to Rita for two more.

  January twenty-first. Huh.

  The date, which meant nothing special to me before today, sits heavy on my heart now.

  I mean, I always knew that she’d leave after the Qimmiq, of course. I guess I just don’t like thinking about it. I like her company. I like having her around. I like...her. Aside from the fact that she’s nice to look at, I like Juliet Sanderson. She’s a good person who loves my dogs, and has tried hard, after an initial fail, to show me that she accepts me exactly for who and what I am. She’s probably one in a million, and I only have her near me for three more months.

  Still, I tell myself, that’s three more months than I would have had if I’d never found her.

  When Rita brings the beers, I thank her for them, then slide my eyes back to Juliet and Jonas, who are talking about something dog or vet related. My eyes rest on my teammate’s shoulder for a second before they skim to Jonas. When they do, I’m surprised to find him looking at me with an expression full of understanding.

  He nods his head almost imperceptibly, then refocuses on whatever Juliet is saying.

  He knows, I think, breathing deeply as I catch a whiff of her vanilla-scented shampoo, how much I’m going to miss her when she’s gone.

  Chapter 7

  Juliet

  There are levels of drunk.

  There’s lightly drunk, when you’re still pretty much in your right mind, but some of your inhibitions have flown the coop.

  There’s pretty drunk, when you’re starting to get wobbly, but you still remember everything that’s happened, you know you need to eat something before bed, and you remind yourself to take two Advil to stave off a hangover.

  There’s very drunk, when responsibility goes out the window, everything’s hilarious, everyone’s beautiful, and you can’t walk so well but who cares, because it’s been the best... night... ever.

  And there’s so sloppy drunk that you’ll barely remember a thing in the morning, the world’s about to start spinning, and it would be great if you were near a toilet.

  I’m pretty (very?) drunk when we get back to Cody’s house with a medium pizza to share. I had six beers in two hours, which probably sounds like a lot, but I built up a decent tolerance in undergrad.

  Plus, I had the presence of mind to order a pizza from Rita before we left...and I’m sure I have some Advil somewhere.

  I plop down on the couch and wrestle my boots off as Cody calls to me from the kitchen.

  “What do you want to drink with your pizza?”

  “Beer,” I say.

  “Sure you want another?” he asks. “The dogs will still expect us up by seven, hungover or otherwise.”

  “Taskmaster,” I grumble. Viola jumps up beside me, and I hug her, crooning into her ear. “You fill up my senses...like a night in the Far East...like a fountain in sunshine...like the talking in Spain.”

  “John Denver’s rolling over in his grave,” says Cody, putting the pizza box on the coffee table, and placing an open bottle of beer and two glasses of water beside it. After he sits down beside Viola, he picks up a glass of water and takes a sip. “How about some water?”

  “No water! I need to sing to Vi,” I inform him. “She loves it.” I lean back and cup her cheeks, singing earnestly in my very bad voice: “Like a dorm with a concert...like some Calamine lotion...you fill up my senses...I forget the rest of the words...”

  “The rest?” scoffs Cody, tugging a slice of pizza from the pie. “Try all.”

  Viola looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, then jumps down, standing politely in front of Cody and hoping for a handout.

  “Why’d you name her Viola?” I ask, picking up the beer and taking a swig.

  “Her full name is Viola de Lesseps, the Fire-Frightener.”

  “Oooo. Fancy.” Suddenly, I chortle, thinking of my favorite TV show. “And I am Juliet Montanaborn, the Mother of...” I raise my beer bottle, looking at the canine face on the label. “Huskies.”

  My hilarious sense of humor is lost on Cody, who clears his throat and says, “Viola de Lesseps was a character from a movie.”

  “What movie?” I ask, taking a slice of pizza and balancing it on my knee as I take another long sip of beer. Fuck, but I like beer a lot.

  Shhh. But I also like Cody a lot.

  “Shakespeare in Love,” he says.

  “Shakespeare in Love?” I shrug. “I don’t know it.”

  “Gwyneth Paltrow played Viola, and she was...beautiful. Blonde hair like yours. You look a little like her,” he says, looking at me thoughtfully before taking a bite of pizza.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” I ask him.

  “You know you’re beautiful,” he answers, glancing at me with an annoyed expression.

  The compliment is grudging, but I’ll still take it.

  “Hey,” I say, nudging his knee. “Did you ever see A River Runs Through It?”

  He pulls another slice of pizza from the box. “Yes.”

  “Brad Pitt is in it,” I tell him. “I thought you looked like him the second I saw your picture.”

  There’s a short pause, and then he asks, “When did you see my picture?”

  “When I was still at home. Your picture is on the Copper Basin 300 website.”

  “Is that right?” he asks, turning a little to face me.

  “That’s right,” I tell him, taking another bite of pizza. “Oh, my God! This pizza is sooo good.”

  “You Googled me?” he asks.

  “Uh-huh. Of course. I had to see what you looked like...and find out if you ever killed anyone.”

  His lips twitch. “And what did you find out, Nancy Drew?”

  “Murders? Zero. Face? Hot.”

  “What?”

  “You have never been convicted of a murder, and you are extremely hot.”

  Cody blinks at me in surprise, then sits back on the couch and stares at me. Finally, after a good thirty seconds, he purses his lips and says, “You need to go to bed.”

  I throw my half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box, grab my beer, and bend my knees so they’re under my butt. Then I put my elbow on the back of the couch and stare at Cody just like he was just staring at me.

  “You are,” I whisper, taking a long gulp of beer, “hot.”

  He blinks again, his nostrils flaring just a touch, and his pupils dilating. He shifts in his seat, and it makes me want to arch my back and push my tits in his face. Instead, I just grin at him.

  “Cut it out,” he growls.

  “No,” I murmur, taking another sip of beer, which cashes the bottle. I lean it against my hip so that my hands are free. “True or false: the Christmas lights around my room were yo
ur idea.”

  He searches my eyes for a second, then nods. “True.”

  “I love them.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You’re hot, Cody.”

  His cheeks redden. “Stop it, Juliet.”

  “I’m an adult. I can say what I want.”

  “You’re a drunk adult,” he points out, “so you should probably shut up.”

  Here’s the weird thing: I know what I’m doing. I know exactly what I’m doing.

  I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do for weeks.

  I’m making a move on Cody.

  “Make me,” I tell him, licking my lips as I lean toward him.

  With a soft groan, his lips crash into mine, and I fall back onto the couch with him on top of me. My arms wiggle out from between our chests, and I reach up to palm his cheeks as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. He tastes like pizza, which I find delicious, and I suck on his tongue for a second before sliding mine into his mouth too.

  He’s clumsy, adjusting his body over mine through our layers of clothes, but he’s also hungry and intense, and I ride that wave of energy, moaning beneath him as I spread my legs and bend my knees so he can settle between them.

  Suddenly, his kiss becomes both gentler and more practiced, like maybe he’s remembering how to do this, and out of nowhere, a cache of butterflies releases in my stomach and I feel a surge of wetness between my thighs. Fuck. Cody’s got some moves.

  I arch my back, pressing my chest against his, but frustrated by our coats and sweaters and shirts. I want to feel his skin on mine. Right now.

  “Your bed,” I whisper against his ear as he skims his lips over my jaw and down my throat. “Take me to your bed.”

  He stops what he’s doing but doesn’t move.

  “Juliet,” he says, raising his head so he can look into my eyes. His eyes are so dark, I can barely see the forest in them anymore. They’re onyx, like the night sky, fierce and focused. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

  “Cody. I want you to fuck me. That doesn’t sound good to you?”

  His breath catches and he flinches. “It sounds amazing.”

  I push at his shoulders. “Then take me to your room.”

  “But...” He licks his lips, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, then letting it go. “We’re...partners. Teammates.”