"You like being chased by armed troops?" He moved his hands over his tanned skin, wiping the rainwater from his arms, his shoulders, and his chest. "Is that your idea of fun?" "Just forget it." Caleb popped open a can of brown mush. "Or ..." he began, licking the lid clean. "Were you smiling at me?"
“Mmm.” He moaned, having not even touched me yet. “What?” I asked, muffled by the poofy pillow. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that you’ve got quite a nice little—“ I flipped to my side, glaring hard. He put up his hands. “Sorry! A guy can’t help but notice. Truly—best behavior—starting now.”
He pulled his lips just far enough away to speak. “What time will Patti be calling?” I managed a glimpse at the clock, feeling his mouth on my collarbone. “Not for an hour,” I whispered. “That simply is not going to be enough time.”
When I looked again my eyes landed on his bare behind. Dear God! I screamed and buried my face in my pillow. “What?!” I heard him ask. “Did you see a roach?” “Why are you naked?!” I did not dare lift my red face. “Huh. Is that all?” he asked. “I always sleep in the buff. I don’t know how you can stand all that clothing.”
“So why won’t you tell me your name?” He leans forward and I freeze. I thaw. I melt. “Juliette, “ I whisper. “My name is Juliette.” His lips soften into a smile that cracks apart my spine. He repeats my name like the word amuses him. Entertains him. Delights him.
In 17 years no one has said
my name like that.