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She mentally patted herself on the back once more while Julian stalked forward as if he owned the place, wearing that playful grin he’d given her ever since they were kids.
“Whatever Kate has said about me, Mopey, don’t believe her. It’s all due to the fact that she wanted me first.” His strong arms coiled like a steel vise around her waist while that Beckham-blond head dipped toward hers.
Molly didn’t see it coming. He moved too fast and had incredible strength, and she was only five feet tall and easily handled. Before she could even realize what was happening, Julian had already reeled her in, crushing her breasts against his rock-hard pecs as his mouth settled firmly over hers, expertly, perfectly, oh so hotly.
And ooh. Oooh. A tiny working part of her mind frantically screamed at her to push him away. The only one she should be kissing now was Garrett! But the fact was, Julian kissed like his brother. Except Julian tasted clean and minty and not of wine, and he kissed her as if he had all the time in the world.
Those silken playboy’s lips pressed with painstaking gentleness against hers and moved so languorously that all her senses began to spin out of control. Molly became magnetized. Hypnotized. Almost transported to the night her entire world had flipped upside down, and she’d glanced down to find her heart had been stolen from her chest.
She wasn’t even sure she was standing anymore, but trusted that Julian would always catch her fall. The sudden desperate urge to press closer to him flitted through her, burned through her being as he lingered in his kiss for a thrilling, electrifying second, and then he was gone. Leaving her dazed and surprised and scatterbrained as he set her away—thankfully keeping a steady hand on her elbow until she found her ground.
He said something once it was over. She thought it was hello.
Molly pushed her hair back, feeling dazed. “Uh—hi.”
He asked her something, his voice huskier than usual, his eyes at half-mast, and she stared at his mouth. His soft yet strong lips became the center of her attention, for she wondered what exactly it was about those lips that had felt so incredibly good when he’d put them on hers.
Even her knees had taken a hit.
She fought to calm down, but remained so shaken she ended up snapping at him for catching her unaware. “What are you doing here, JJ?” she asked, glaring, using his old kiddie nickname just to punish him.
Julian remained aloof and calmly popped a cookie straight from the baking sheet into his mouth. “Nothing, pumpkin buns. Just wanted to check in on my girl.” He strode over and squeezed her butt, whispering only for her ears, “JJ? You’re going to pay for that, Molls.”
She fake giggled so Kate wouldn’t notice anything strange and pulled away, her buttocks aflame from his touch. How to get back at him? She said the first thing that came to mind when she caught Kate’s confused expression. “JJ loves for me to call him all sorts of pet names when we’re...you know,” she told her.
“JJ?” Kate turned to Julian, hands on hips, spatula held like a sword. “I thought you absolutely loathed that nickname.”
Julian shot Molly a warning look. “I do,” he said, jaw square as a cutting board. “But little Molls calls me JJ exclusively when she wants me to spank her.”
Molly’s satisfaction in getting back at him vanished.
Her cheeks burst into flames. She wanted to die of embarrassment, for now her sister would forever believe her to be into that kind of kinky stuff.
“Baby, its barely afternoon and I still need to make myself sexy and sophisticated for you,” she told him as she went around the kitchen and shot him a scowl from behind Kate’s shoulders. “Not all of us come by it naturally. Now you’ll have to wait for me a bit. I’m sure Kate and her spatula would love to keep you company, though.”
He moved fluidly, nonplussed. “I have a better idea, bun-buns. Why don’t I help you get dressed, hmm?” Before Molly could deny him, he’d followed her into her bedroom and locked them inside while Kate remained in the kitchen, no doubt still wide-eyed.
“Will you puleeze stop provoking me,” Molly hissed, pushing him against the door. “Stop calling me bun-buns.”
He leaned forward with gritted teeth. “Who’s provoking who? You know I freaking hate JJ!”
“And don’t you dare kiss me again without warning like you just did!”
“If you ever call me JJ again, I’m going to kiss you—with tongue. So don’t, otherwise I’ll think you want my tongue inside your mouth!”
He glared at her and she glared back, wishing that a stream of butterflies hadn’t just migrated to her stomach. She couldn’t help but wonder what Julian did with his loathed tongue that drove all women crazy, crazy, crazy....
“Are we clear about this, Molls?” he demanded, using his thumb and forefinger to tip her head back and force her to meet his gaze. She was appalled to realize she had apparently been staring dumbly at his mouth.
She nodded so that he would release her and swallowed, some rebel inside her wanting to test him and say: Yes, JJ.
Then she groaned and thrust him away. “Why, oh, why did you have to tell her you spanked me?” She shook her head and rubbed her temples in complete mortification.
“Because sometimes I swear to God you want me to.” He swatted her butt and strolled to the closet, leaving her to grapple with incredibly strange and powerful emotions and an uncomfortably stinging butt.
“So.” He yanked out a huge suitcase, turned back and cocked a devilish eyebrow at her. “I told the love of your life that you were moving in with me. What do you say about that, my little Picasso?”
“Was he jealous?”
That smile again. “About as close to banging his head on a wall as I’ve seen him.”
Molly yanked her panty drawer open. “Then I’d be delighted.”
Three
“So what else did the love of my life say?” Molly asked as they made a pit stop for food on their way back to Julian’s place. He was always hungry. It seemed that his muscles needed a lot of glucose, all the time. The man had a friends group for every sport he participated in: soccer, basketball, kayaks, zip-lining, even the more extreme hang-gliding gigs.
Those hard, taut muscles on his arms and legs and abs and the magnificent golden hue of his skin obviously didn’t come from being in an office all day.
He was so lean, he could probably tackle a decathlon as easily as he tackled women in bed.... Hmm, she wondered if Garrett would soon tackle her in bed.
“Wait here,” he said as he slid his silver Aston Martin into the only vacant parking slot in front of a frozen yogurt chain.
“Hey will you get me an Oreo milk shake with—”
“Three cherries on top—one for chewing, one for sucking and one to leave at the bottom?”
Molly grinned and nodded, and she could still hear his rumbling chuckle even after he’d closed the door.
Minutes later, he returned, and she found herself scowling down at her milk shake. “Why is there a phone number written on my milk shake cup?”
With an easy flick of his wrist, he turned the key and his car engine roared back to life.
“Julian!”
He flung his hands up in exasperation. “I didn’t ask for it, Molls.”
She shook her head in distaste. But then, could she blame the cashier or whoever had scrambled to write her hopes on Molly’s milk shake? Julian was graced with both a face and body that made women gape, stammer and stutter—then behave like twits. That was a fact. And there was nothing Molly—or even Julian—could do about it.
Still, it rankled, and Molly kept shaking her head. “Honestly. I have no idea who in their right mind would hook up with you.”
He shifted sideways and put the car in Reverse, then reached out and chucked her chin. “Apparently you.”
Molly laughed and started chewing her first cherry. “You haven’t told me what the love of my life has to say about me—his one true love—hanging out with the likes of you.”
Julian turned the wheel, shifted gears and sped onto the highway. “He mentioned guns. At dawn.”
Molly sucked on her second cherry. “Just please don’t make me a widow before I even marry him.”
“Marry. Whoa. Now there’s a big word.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the word marriage.”
“I said it was a big word.”
She stopped sucking on her cherry and stared at him in suspicion, pushing the cherry to one side of her mouth as she talked. “And please don’t tell me when you said guns you were talking about your biceps again?”
He just smiled that sexy smile. As if he knew a secret Molly didn’t. Or as if he’d seen her naked without her knowledge. Oops, where did that thought come from?
Her stomach jittered all of a sudden, and she figured she might be cold. It had started raining when they loaded up her suitcases, and now her clothes were soaked and clinging to her skin. Which was unfortunate, because she’d changed into something Julian might even consider sexy and sophisticated. Not because she cared what he thought, but just to prove to him that Molly Devaney had money of her own, had success on her own and only dressed comfortably because she believed inner beauty was more important than material stuff.
Now as she contemplated her soggy outfit, she didn’t know if her goose bumps were due to her wet tank or the cold milk shake or excitement.
Julian became pensive as he drove, but that was fine with her. Molly chattered on in her excitement about how she was going to get Garrett, how she could use one of Julian’s spare bedrooms if she felt suddenly inspired and had to paint... She did have an exhibition soon and needed to finish two more pieces within the next month.
When they arrived at his apartment building, he asked her if he could show her something and Molly nodded eagerly. Eduardo, one of the doormen, took charge of delivering her bags to the twelfth floor while Julian guided her to another elevator and pressed P. They were carried up to the penthouse.
What greeted them when the elevator doors opened was an enormous white space, with floor-to-ceiling windows in every corner and the smell of fresh paint lingering in the air.
“Wow. What is this?”
He met her gaze, and she was mesmerized by the proud gleam in his eyes, could even hear the pride in his gruff voice. “These just so happen to be my future offices.”
Molly’s eyes rounded in surprise. “You—what do you mean? Is the Daily moving from downtown?”
The Gage family owned the most thriving and successful newspaper conglomerate in all of Texas, which included several print publications, internet news sites and some cable-TV channels, all working under the umbrella of their first paper, the San Antonio Daily. It was a business of three generations and one that gave the family immense wealth and untold power. Their offices occupied an entire block downtown, so Molly couldn’t quite believe the move would be so easy.
A second passed before Julian answered, and it was as though he was selecting his words carefully. “No. I’m the only one moving out, Molls.”
Molly stared at his somber expression, loud warning bells chiming in her head. She immediately sensed this development was not a positive thing for the family. “Do your brothers know about this, Jules?” she asked, treading cautiously.
“They will.”
Molly took a couple of minutes to digest this shocking news. Her stomach did weird things at the thought of drama within the family, which had always seemed to revolve around Julian and his rebel ways. She still remembered each one of the times he’d been sent abroad for who knew what kinds of wrongdoing. Molly had missed her friend terribly, like she’d miss a thumb or an arm or a crucial and important part of her. All she remembered about those wretched months was that she’d cried. A lot.
Now she watched him move lithely across his new office area, easily stepping over plastic tarps while he surveyed the electrical wires that stuck out from the scattered pillars, and she wondered why he’d want to bail out on the family’s extremely successful newspaper and publishing business.
As the head of PR and chief of advertising for the company, Julian had the best part of the pie, in her humble opinion. He had the same whopping salary, just as many shares in the company as his brothers but the fewest responsibilities, which allowed him to have the most fun, the most women and the most time for hobbies like flying that Cessna plane he so loved and doing all the sports he enjoyed. Why would he leave the San Antonio Daily?
“I had no idea you were unhappy where you were,” she said as she caught up with him, searching his face.
He stared out the wide windows and the sunlight caught a dozen golden flecks in his green eyes. “I’m dissatisfied with my life, though not necessarily unhappy. A change was in order.”
Her heart clenched with a strange emotion; she supposed it might be disappointment, for she’d believed they were close enough for him to share this important information with her sooner. As in, before he signed the lease for the penthouse. But then Julian was very reserved with his emotions, which was why people thought he had none. “So...” She walked through the space with him, taking in each new desk waiting for its worker. “How long have you been planning this?”
She wanted to know more but also knew Julian disliked being pushed too far, and she sensed that this was all she would get for now.
“A couple of years. Maybe my whole life.”
He smiled down at her, a truly honest and content smile, and captivated by it, she returned it in kind, was helpless not to. But while a part of her wanted to clap and say good for you! there was another part, the one that was also loyal to the entire Gage family, that wished he’d reconsider. For Molly’s entire life, she’d sided with Julian about everything, anytime and anywhere, yet now she felt torn. Because she’d given her heart to Garrett two weeks ago and knew for certain that she’d never get it back. And she knew Garrett would fight tooth and claw to keep Julian in the business.
He was one of their greatest assets and the only Gage brother cocky enough to neither worry nor care about appearances. His suave manner and mysterious ways seemed to both annoy and charm the competition, and made him the best PR person in the state. Molly doubted the Daily would have even half the amount of advertisers it did when Julian no longer had a hand in reeling them in. Maybe he would reconsider in due time?
Continuing their stroll with a sigh, she nearly bumped into a blank wall. “All this white space could use something, you know,” she suddenly said aloud.
From a few feet away, Julian chuckled, and the husky sound created a compelling echo in the wide-open room. “Now, why did I know you were going to say that?” he asked as he came over.
She grinned and wrinkled her nose at him. “Maybe because I don’t like blank walls and you’ve known this for twenty years or more.”
Stopping just an arm’s length away, he smoothed the wrinkle in her nose with one lone fingertip. “Then make a mural for me. This entire wall—make it yours.”
Molly held his penetrating stare, her nose itching where he’d touched it. As the wheels in her head started spinning, she turned to the wall and found that her muse had already jumped with an idea. “Are you high? My individual paintings already command five-figure prices. A mural would run at least 150,000 and it would take me months. I need to talk to my gallerist.”
Her gallerist had once represented Warhol and he was the savviest art dealer around, selling the craziest, most daring and contemporary art in the world. He was also Julian’s friend.
“Leave Blackstone out of it. A hundred and fifty it is.”
She gasped. “Jules, I can’t charge you that, it feels like I’m robbing my best friend.”
“Then it should be fun. A hundred-fifty K, Molls, but make it real pretty for me. As pretty as you.” His smile flashed charmingly, and a bucket of excitement settled in Molly’s stomach until she could hardly stand it. She didn’t know if it was due to the fabulous deal she’d just closed or to being called pretty for once without it being accompanied by an insult to her clothes attached. Perhaps it was both.
“Of course, Jules!” Pulling herself up by grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, she quickly kissed his hard jaw, then wished she hadn’t, because he totally stiffened. “Thanks. When can I start?”
He spun for the elevator and cranked his neck as though it had cramped on him. “Tomorrow if you’d like,” he said.
Molly floated in a cloud of bliss as she followed him. Had she really just landed an enormous work space just upstairs for the time being?
Had she just been commissioned for her first mural?
She could hardly believe her good fortune, although she’d always enjoyed a certain share of luck when it came to her art. The sudden interest from a top New York gallery a couple of years before had placed her works in several important collectors’ homes, and before she knew it her name was being piled up next to contemporary artists like David Salle and Sean Scully; big, big, big names in the art world. Now for the first time in her twenty-three years, maybe some of that creative luck would rub off on her sadly lacking love life. Maybe she was close to getting what she wanted with Garrett.
Thanks to Julian, for sure.
Because she’d suddenly realized that, just as her canvases did not miraculously paint themselves, her love life wouldn’t happen without some encouragement. And that was where Julian’s help making Garrett jealous fit in.
Once back in Julian’s spacious apartment, Molly chose the guest bedroom to the left of his room, a space done in a pastel blue-and-green palette that she’d always found soothing. She retrieved her night creams, day creams, moisturizing creams, shampoos and toothbrush and aligned them all on the sink, then peeled out of her still-damp clothes, showered and slipped into her sleep shirt, which was actually an old T-shirt Julian had used in high school and his mother had sent to the Donation Station. Nobody knew Molly had fished this shirt out of the garbage bag for being the softest and most worn, and Julian would hardly remember he’d ever owned it.
Once ready for bed, she went out in the hall to look for him and hoped to propose they watch a movie, but his bedroom door was closed. Disappointment crept in, so then she went to bed and lay there, gazing at the walls, the curtains and the ceiling fan for hours.
Sleep eluded her, and her thoughts kept drifting toward Garrett. His black hair, those onyx eyes with the sooty lashes, and oh, God, the way he’d kissed her two weeks ago. She remembered that kiss so perfectly that she’d been reliving it nightly, in bed, as she futilely tried to fall asleep.
“I think I’d like to be a spinster,” Molly had told Kate that evening as they stood out on the terrace of the Gage mansion, gazing into the brightly lit masquerade party transpiring inside the sprawling 10,000-square-foot home.
Kate had obviously laughed. “Molls. Why on earth would you say that?” She’d lovingly tousled her hair, which Molly had worn loose for the evening. “You’re beautiful and sweet and any man would be lucky to have you.”
“It’s just that no man seems to live up to my expectations.”
With a dreary sigh, Molly showed Kate the picture of the three Gage brothers she carried in her iPhone. It featured the gray-eyed, responsible Landon, the dark-haired, honorable Garrett and of course the sex god playboy, Julian. As her favorite Gage brother, Julian was everything that a good husband was not.
