Chapter 37
37
[Genie]
J udd and I linger in bed the day after our prom-revival, but on the following morning, I beg off another day in bed.
“I’m going into town.” A little separation might refocus my mind. With Judd nearby, all I can think about is orgasms and the perfection of his body.
Judd is almost insatiable about giving them to me.
He pretends to pout when I make my announcement. He’s taken a seat at his dining room table, set up like he’d hoped we’d spend the day in the space, working side by side like we did earlier in the week, and as much as I’d like to do that too, I have work to do.
If something were to happen and Greetings Ambassador didn’t come through with their proposal, I’ll still need to produce fresh, new calendars for the upcoming year. I need to concentrate. For at least a day. Maybe half. Even just a few hours.
I groan when Judd wraps his arm around my hips and tugs me close to him.
“I have something for you, though.” Digging my hands into his hair, I kiss the top of his head before pulling back. “Check your email.”
“What is it?” He glances up at me from his seated position. His hair mussed. His eyes cautious.
I want to permanently wipe away the sadness that creeps back into his sky-blues. I want Judd to be confident in our new commitment to each other, in my commitment to him.
“I’ve sent you my financials for Quirky Girl Calendar. Maybe you could take a look after all.” It’s a big ask and a bit frightening. I don’t make the kind of money he does, but it isn’t about comparison. I feel like I’m opening a piece of my soul to him. This is me. My business and my plan.
And I’m open-minded to his thoughts. Trusting his opinion. Trusting in him.
Judd’s eyes widen and his head turns toward his laptop, like he can already see the email I’ve sent. Then he glances back at me. “I’ll look at it right away.”
“No rush.” I chuckle, swiping his hair back again. My meeting with Greetings Ambassador isn’t for two more weeks.
Which reminds me, I should really go back to Knoxville and collect more of my belongings. The thought of home is daunting, though, as I don’t want to be away from Judd.
The emotions growing between us have happened gradually and yet all at once, and I need to accept my stay is not a vacation from life, but the possibility of a new life.
With these thoughts in mind, I step back from Judd, but he catches me by the hips again and slowly stands, filling any space between us. Cupping my jaw, he kisses me soundly. A deep sweep into my mouth and a playful suck at my lower lip before releasing me.
“Couple goals,” he whispers, dropping his forehead to mine. “We kiss goodbye and hello.”
I tip up on my toes, my smile nearly too wide to properly kiss him back but I do.
Because, couple goals.
When I take my corner seat in Curmudgeon Bakery, the last person I expect to see enter the place is Clay.
“Hey, birthday girl,” he teases although days have passed since my birthday. He could pick on me for being a drunk birthday girl, but the outpouring of concern from the Sylver clan has been compassionate. No judgment. Just gentle worries. Turning forty is a big deal.
“Hi there.” I lift my coffee to salute Clay before he places an order with the young man behind the counter. Sebastian is out somewhere on a delivery.
After Clay picks up his coffee and a berry-mix scone, he grabs a seat at my table. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you and wonder if now is a good time?”
“Shoot.” I wave toward him, a little apprehensive about what he’d want to talk to me about.
“You mentioned your meeting with Greetings Ambassador.”
I roll my eyes and chuckle, considering Judd’s concerns. “What is this, a Sylver ambush?”
Clay smiles, his eyes crinkling with delight. “What do you mean?”
“First Judd, now you.”
“Ah, well, I was hoping Judd would talk to you.”
I tilt my head. “Now I want to know what you mean.”
“Just that Judd has a way about him.” Clay places his hand near his ear and twists it back and forth. “A real way with numbers. Finances. And I’ve been hoping he might help you find an alternative to selling.”
I could be offended that this family isn’t in favor of me giving up my business. Instead, I’m flattered they just want what they think is best for me.
“Our mother had a dream,” Clay continues. “She wanted to turn the local feed and farm supply store into something greater, and my parents were on their way to making that dream happen when she passed away.” He offers a sad smile. “Our father ran the place into the ground instead of honoring her dream, and it’s taken primarily me and Judd to turn the business around. To grow our mama’s vision into something bigger.”
He smiles again, warm and proud of their accomplishments. “I hate to see anyone give up their dream, and you seem like someone who still has a vision for yours. Direction for it. You’re young and talented. Very fun. Very fresh, and very relatable to garden and book lovers.”
“Clay Sylver, have you been investigating me?” I twist my lips, giving him a wry grin.
“Just looking into Quirky Girl Calendars, and I like what I see. I’d really like for Sylver Seed & Soil to carry your line.”
My mouth pops open. “Through Greetings Ambassador?” I’ve earned a customer before even starting with their company.
“Through Quirky Girl Calendars directly.”
“Clay,” I groan, setting my elbow on the bistro table and placing my forehead in my hand. “I don’t have the merchandise I want to expand the line.”
“And I could help you with that.”
“You’re already running an empire,” I joke.
“And what’s wrong with adding more to the galaxy?”
“Was that a Star Wars reference?”
Clay smiles. “Dutton is a fan. He also likes Power Princesses. It changes every day.” The affection he has for his son is amazing and the twinkle in his eye as he speaks about his child is exactly how I envision Judd speaking about a child he loves. Heck, I’ve seen that gleam in Judd’s eyes when he talks about Simon.
“I’ll think about it,” I state, although I’ve already been thinking about Quirky Girl Calendars and if I’m taking my company in the right direction.
“Let me know if you need anything.” He raps his knuckles on the table and stands, picking up his uneaten scone and to-go coffee cup.
“Actually, there is something I’d like to talk to you about.” I lick my lips, nervous about what’s on my mind. My concern isn’t what I came into town to discuss, but with Clay suddenly in front of me, I can’t hold back. “It’s about Judd.”
I don’t want to betray him, but I also need help in supporting him.
Clay slowly sits back down, his hand tightening around his coffee cup. “Is everything alright?”
I shake my head and explain what I can.
While riddled with guilt after speaking with Clay, I also have a plan. An actionable one.
So, when Judd exits his bedroom, dressed for his evening fight, because he took a Friday slot due to family obligations for the remainder of the weekend, I’m also dressed. And extremely nervous.
Judd looks up at me standing in his great room wearing the green dress with ruffles along the neckline. The one I hope he remembers fondly.
“Hey, beautiful. What’s going on?” He eyes my outfit, noting my face lightly made up and my hair curled. His head tilts, and I can already see the gears clicking in his brain. He’s wondering why I’m going out and where I’m going without him.
Only, I’m not going anywhere alone.
“I thought I’d go with you tonight.”
“To the fight?” He blinks.
“Unless I can convince you to skip the fight entirely.” I shove at the shoulder of my dress, pushing it downward and hitching my shoulder up, giving Judd my best sensual pout as I glance at him over said shoulder.
He smiles. His face flushing pink. “Don’t tempt me.”
I tug the shoulder panel back upright and straighten. “I didn’t think that would work.” I clear my throat, fighting down the hit of rejection. “So, I thought I’d go with you.”
Judd continues to stare at me while fiddling with the cuff of his dress shirt. “I thought you didn’t want to watch that happen to me.”
I don’t. Still don’t, but . . . “I want to support you. I want to understand.”
Judd stares at me again. Really looks at me. The intensity is so strong, I feel raw. Naked. Exposed. Then he closes the distance between us and takes my face in his hands, lowering to kiss me, long and deep and breathless.
For a minute there, I almost think I have him reconsidering his fight. But when he pulls back, he lowers his forehead to mine.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
His gratitude reminds me why I’m attending. Judd doesn’t believe anyone will support his decision to fight. That no one supports him.
I’m out to prove him wrong.