The Naked Truth (The Honeybrook Hamdens)
“Did they understand when I scraped my way through high school? When I dropped out of college? When I broke up with one boyfriend after another?”
“Julie—”
“You don’t understand. You’re not…”
“I’m not what?”
“You’re not one of us. My mother, my sister, my brother…they don’t hold you to the same standards.”
“Right.” He nodded and something sharp twisted between his ribs.
“Just trust me, okay, I have this under control.”
“So you say.”
“I do.” Julie nodded solemnly.
“So, since you’re the great decider, how about you tell me what you and I are supposed to do now.” His gaze roved over her, taking in every inch of her naked body. Given his way, he’d take her all over again right here and now.
And based on the way she got onto her knees and sang her cute little butt in the air? She was just as game for round two as he was.
Chapter Eight
Ten Years Ago
It was wrong to kiss her back.
Every part of him was screaming for him to stop, to back away, but when his lips had found hers, all he wanted to do was dive deeper, explore just how far he could go.
With one hand, he wove his fingers between her honey locks and with the other he dragged her closer, pulling her to him so he could feel her shallow breathing against his chest.
“Chase,” she breathed his name, but he cut her off with another kiss, time coaxing her to kiss him deeper, until her tongue joined his and they were pushing and pulling, flirting with disaster and loving every moment of it.
“Chase,” she tried again, and this time he backed away, his eyes still half-hooded as he took her in in the firelight.
How many years now had he wondered what that would be like? How long had it been since he’d last felt this good? This right?
“Jules,” he said.
“I…don’t know what I wanted to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” he said, and he pulled her to him again.
Present Day
Julie's cell phone hadn't stopped ringing for what felt like the past two days. If
it wasn't problems with the guest list, then it was issues with the models or even the lighting technicians. This show--the show that was supposedly the trademark of her future in the independent fashion world-was falling to pieces around her.
And it wasn't even late enough to justify getting herself a drink.
With a deep sigh, she clicked on her phone and called Trina, who she knew would be on her usual 1:30 lunch break, then held her breath for some shred of good news.
When the line clicked to life, Trina didn't bother saying hello. Instead, she said, "The clothing just arrived."
Julie's gut twisted as she pictured what the clothes probably looked like when they were rolled into the office. It was a moment she'd been dreaming about for years now. The first time she'd see her clothes preparing to be displayed.
But then, of course, she hadn't been there. And even if she told everyone and their mother that the designs were hers, nobody would believe her. Not when believing her put their own fragile careers at risk.