Right on time, he arrived, gorgeous as ever in a pair of dark jeans and a white tee shirt, his biceps flexing, arm tattoo visible, giving him a sexy air. Add to that the aviators on his eyes and his dark hair glinting in the sun, and he simply took her breath away.
In one hand, he carried a cardboard tray with two Starbucks cups in the holders. Steve trotted along beside him, gray ears flopping as he walked. He looked happy and a lot healthier than the last time she’d seen him, and she smiled in relief.
“Hey, little man!” Kendall said to Steve, waiting until Julian let himself inside the gate and closed it behind him before she knelt down to greet the dog. “You look so much better.” She petted his soft head before rising to her feet and meeting Julian’s amused stare.
“I hope you’re as happy to see me.” He winked, causing her stomach to pitch and pleasure and arousal to flood through her, her breasts suddenly full, her nipples hard and visible beneath her shirt.
“I’m pleased to see you both,” she admitted.
“I brought drinks. A grande vanilla chai for you.”
“You remembered,” she said, touched by the gesture.
He smiled. “When it comes to you, I couldn’t forget.”
Unnerved, she focused on pulling the cup from the holder and removing his as well. He tossed the cardboard in the nearest trash can, released Steve from his leash, and let him join in the dog fun.
“Here.” She handed him his coffee.
“So this is where the cool dog parents hang out, hmm?”
She laughed, looking over the dogs playing, wrestling, tussling for dominance. “It’s a nice-sized area and it’s clean. The people who come here are pretty respectful with their dogs. Oh, look!” She gestured to where Steve and Waffles had found one another.
Waffles nudged Steve with her nose, then assumed a stiff pose, waiting for some kind of reaction. Steve, on the other hand, shifted his body and froze in another position, each waiting to see what the other would do. Eventually they were rolling around on the ground, wrestling like old friends.
“Steve’s got good taste,” Julian said, folding his arms across his chest as he watched his dog play. “I guess it runs in the family.”
Her cheeks warmed, and it wasn’t from the heat of the sun. “Julian,” she said in a warning tone. She wasn’t ready to have an intimate conversation with him about feelings.
“So let’s catch up,” he said. As if sensing her discomfort, he quickly changed the subject. “How did you end up working at the shelter?”
She blew out a breath, relaxing at the easy, softball question. She immediately decided if he wanted to have any kind of relationship with her, he needed to know everything—and choose whether to be her friend or to run far and fast.
“Well,” she said, wrapping her hands around the warm cup, “when I got out of the hospital and Lexie gave Waffles back to me, I knew I needed to start life fresh and get a job.”
“Whoa. Wait. Hospital? When were you in the hospital?”
She ran her tongue over her dry lips. The bench had opened up, and she gestured toward it. “Let’s sit.”
They settled in, and she turned toward him, her knees touching his. “You know I’m bipolar, and after what happened with you and what I did, stealing Kade’s watch, pawning it… I knew I needed more help than weekly therapy could give.”
He dipped his chin and glanced away. “You did those things because I encouraged you to.”
She shook her head. “I did those things because it gave me a rush. A high. I was sick, and to be honest, yes, you played into my illness.” She put the coffee cup down and twisted her hands together.
He covered her hands in his, and she appreciated the comfort he tried to give. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Yes. I do. Because I think you have this skewed version of who I am in your head. Once you know the truth, you’ll run far and fast, like everyone else,” she muttered before drawing a deep breath and continuing.
“Anyway, I spent my life letting my sister clean up my messes and take care of me, and I treated her so badly. So after I found out the truth—that you set me up, knew who I was, used me to get to Kade… and I allowed it—I knew something had to change. So I checked myself into Maple Hill, an inpatient psychiatric facility.”
He placed a warm hand on the back of her neck. “Relax,” he murmured. “And breathe.”
Her entire body was rigid, she realized, her gaze focused on the playing dogs, because she’d been waiting for his shock, then horror, then any excuse to get away from the mental patient.
She pulled in a ragged breath and exhaled, forcing herself to take in much-needed air and allowing her muscles to ease up.
“I didn’t know about the hospital, but it doesn’t change what I think of you. Now go on. I believe I asked you how you got the job at the shelter.”