Chapter 3 - Julie

Georgia is convinced that Kaius is just an asshole. I don't know what I'm doing to deserve to be his favorite punchline lately. As much as my body seems to want him, which is painfully clear when he's around, there's no way I can let myself entertain those thoughts when he acts like this.

Georgia and I settle into a different room entirely to finish painting.

"You shouldn't let him get to you, Jules."

She's got a burgundy and gold Greyson Ridge Volleyball hat on backward, her red highlights poking out from the front. I'm still impressed with how little Georgia cares what people think. She has this badass, tomboy air about her. Tattooed, ears gauged—she looks like the hip college students in the ski towns, except more muscular and toned.

"Easier said than done. He just seems to always make some little dig in the most public way," I say with a shrug. I try to remind myself that it doesn't matter if I'm not Kaius's preference.

"Hey, after you dealt with Luke, there's no reason you have to put up with that. Just put him in his place, and I bet he'll back down. He's got that whole ‘looking for an easy target' vibe."

Her mentioning Luke sets me on edge. Three years with him. It shouldn't feel like an eternity, but that's what it feels like in hindsight. At first, he was so charming. He was always complimenting me, but I didn't pick up on the underhanded comments.

I'd developed a massive complex about my weight and lost way too much in some extremely unhealthy ways. Then, he'd taken every opportunity to remind me how worthless I was. He had been controlling and downright cruel. He still shows up now and then to "remind me what I'm missing out on."

My mind strays in the muck of those dark memories and why I'm drawn to someone like Kaius now. I'm trying to focus on the brush in my hand and avoid dripping paint, but it's a struggle. Maybe I should consider the whole lesbian thing since all the ladies think I am one, anyway. Women would be easier to deal with, right?

We finish up the room we're working on just as the light is fading with the bright orange of sunset outside of the little cabin. I return my brush and paint cup to the pile in the main room, grab my sweatshirt, and pull it back on before heading outside. With the sun dipping down, the temperature is dropping fast. I head to my little old beat-up car to grab my coat.

Lena and Cyrus make burgers and we all demolish them with an intensity that comes from a long day of working. I sit as far as possible from Kaius on the porch, but I swear I can feel his eyes on me the whole time I'm eating. I'm just imagining it, surely. I can't bring myself to glance up and check. Heat burns up my face at the thought all over again.

Whatever. It's his issue, not mine.

I stand and start helping clean up and feel that tension of eyes on me relax as the guys all peel off toward the targets and axes. I sigh in relief and throw the last couple of empty, used plates in the trash. I hate that he makes me feel this self-conscious. Meanwhile, Bernadette and Peyton are having a heated conversation about Bernadette's latest dating conquest.

"You're driving two hours of mountain passes at night to hook up with a guy, and you're telling me he's giving you a hard time about needing to know an exact time? Do you need me to hold that red flag up for you, Babe? They're red. All red," Peyton says with a very mom-like look at Bernadette. Maybe it's because of the three teenage boys, but Peyton's mom"s look is a work of art.

She's in a thick coat, but her brown hair falls in a shoulder-length bob around her face, which Peyton pulls off with her high cheekbones and bright brown eyes. She looks every bit the controlled mother and businesswoman she always does, even out here in the woods clearing dishes.

Bernadette tosses long blond and purple hair over her head with a laugh and meets Peyton's mom-stare with a boldness that is purely her own brand of brash nonsense. Her blue eyes are dancing, and she looks like she's eating up the chaos.

"Hey, he"s fantastic in bed," Bernadette shrugs.

"I just can't with her," Peyton sighs.

I'm zoning out as they continue their bickering, my thoughts drifting back to Kaius. The way my brain is fixating on him is driving me up the wall. I don't know if it's my silly books or what, but I keep finding myself daydreaming about Kaius. There's absolutely no rational reason that I should fantasize about him and me spilling paint and having some sordid, paint-covered moment in the middle of one of these cabins the next time we come together.

The problem is, I don't just want sex and passion. I want that soul-crushing need for someone. The relationship where you can't breathe without them, where something about them just fits perfectly with all your rough edges, like they're that missing piece of you that you've been searching for. The dashing hero, who really has a heart of gold, hangs onto the idea of the woman who rejects him and tries to prove his love for her.

Is that too much to ask?

I almost want what my parents have. They've been married forty years and somehow still seem to suit each other. My mother dotes on my father, and he caves to all her random whims.

I want that, but I hope that at some point in my life, I will find something more fulfilling than driving my daughter insane with my meddling and needling about her relationships. Heaven forbid I have sons who turn out like my brothers. I lose myself in those thoughts while I clear food.

We are supposed to hang out for our non-reading book club night, which will just turn into more wine and ax-throwing—our new normal now that Lena and Cyrus are married. Seeing them together like they are now, heads bent toward each other as they're curled up in front of the bonfire, it seems like it was just meant to be. They found their fairytale ending, at least. Maybe there's hope for the rest of us.

With the blended group, it's much easier for me to actually hang back and read with no one bugging me about joining in. I grab my book and reading light from my bag and situate myself in a chair a little further from the fire than the others. I'd rather not be too close to anyone while reading this book. No need to have someone ask me what I'm reading and have to explain my choice of books.

Cyrus leans over and brushes a kiss on Lena's head before jumping up and striding off toward the targets and the rest of his research team. They're here in Greyson Ridge to study our copper deposits for a mining company.

I think it's interesting, but I feel like based on some of the town's history, they should look at more than just the one mine they are focused on. But they haven't asked me, and I'm not exactly in the mood to insert myself into any conversations if I can help it. I've always been fascinated with the history of our town, and our area. I've toured almost all of the area's museums, ghost towns, and mines. As much as I love my romance novels, it's history that really captures my attention.

My eyes find Kaius in the group over at the targets. His black sweater looks like it was damn near poured on. The fabric is stretched tight across his chest, shoulders, and arms. I can see the definition of his muscles in the low light. How is he not freezing?

I scan the group and realize Kaius isn't the tallest in the group, but I would argue that he may be one of the biggest in sheer muscle, second maybe to Cyrus. I remember the heat of his hands on me and can feel my body clench at the sheer thought. His eyes flash toward me and I drop my eyes to my book.

Shit. Stop staring.

I sigh in frustration at my traitorous eyes and body. My eyes scan the page for the paragraph where I left off. This new book is all about a mysterious pirate and the proper lady that he abducts and tries to hold for ransom. It's all heaving bosoms and sauntering boots—I love it. This historical accuracy pulls me in as much as the romance. At least my dashing pirate will not make me feel like an idiot.

Lena and Sarah's conversation drifts toward me and pulls my thoughts away from my book for a minute. They're talking intensely about some keys that they're looking for. I wonder what they lost. Maybe something for Lena's shop? My eyes catch a flurry of movement out of the corner of my eye by the guys, and I turn to see what it is.

Rufus is wagging an ax in Roscoe's direction again The chubby little bandit makes a beeline for Kaius and scrambles up the leg of his jeans, and he stoops to scoop him up. Kaius cradles the raccoon in his arms like a baby and pulls peanuts out of his pocket, passing them one at a time to the greedy little hands.

Laughter booms from him, deep and carrying. Kaius's laugh is just infectious and soon everyone is laughing. I feel a twitch on my face as I try to resist it.

No. He's not cute. That's not adorable. You will not smile. Control yourself.

I drop my eyes back to my book and adjust the reading light, trying very hard to ignore the deep timber of his voice as it carries across the clearing and the effect it has on me. It's got to just be the pirate-smut on the brain. I think I need to switch it up and read some non-romance novels for a while. Maybe I'll dive back into the Gold Rush book I bought last month. All this angst and tension in my brain is just a byproduct of pent-up emotions from the novels.

My eyes linger on the description of the main male character grabbing the woman by the hips from behind and pulling her flush against him. The passion between the two characters is intense and I can feel the heat creeping up my face as I try and fail to keep my body from physically responding, but the scene has me wet just at the idea of it. I can see it so perfectly in my head. His hands on her, skirts pulled up, the two of them against the rail of the ship…

Glancing up, my eyes lock on that unsettling set of light hazel eyes, laughing and dancing in the firelight much closer than the ax throwing. He's only a few feet away. I can feel the blush deepen, and I cough, trying to resist outright flailing.

Damn it.

I turn the page, trying to skip past the rest of the spicy scene, as this is clearly the wrong time and place to be reading anything that intense.

"Wow, Julie. That must be a masterclass romantic fiction, given the blush and the relentless page-turning. Tell me, does the heroine find herself torn between the brooding duke and the rakish pirate, or is this the one with the secret baby plot twist?"

Oh, fuck this.

I feel the eyes turning to glance from him to me, and I want to shrink into the shadows and disappear. I hate this feeling of being exposed, even in front of a group that's mainly my friends. I can't handle it. My chest tightens, and I feel like the trees are caving in on me. It's all too much.

The blush has spread to my whole body at this point, I'm pretty sure. I need the ground to open up so I can just disappear in a hole. I scramble out of the chair, snapping my book shut. I try hard to keep my feet moving in a relatively coordinated fashion but stumble as I get my bag and throw the book in. I dig for my keys with a grimace as his deep voice echoes behind me again.

"No, no, by all means, don't let reality and real social interactions pull you away from the clutches of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Fictional and his quivering member."

I tune everything else out as I rush to my car. There it is, the confirmation I need that Kaius is the absolute last person I should think about in any context, let alone a romantic one.