Chapter 42
42
[Genie]
J udd and I have definitely entered a honeymoon phase, where between his working from home and mine, we hardly get anything done. We have sex on the dining room table and against his shower wall. We do it on a highbacked stool which took some skill, and even on the back deck. Every day is a new position, a new location, and I cannot get enough of him.
I don’t know why I ever doubted this type of feeling. It wasn’t that I was opposed to love, I just didn’t see myself getting married, that final act of commitment. Now, I can’t imagine not being with Judd forever.
I find him in the kitchen as I often do after waking. He hardly breaks his routine of a morning workout and a swim in the lake, but he lingers a little longer in bed these past couple days as we use each other’s body as a private exercise program.
“Good morning,” I murmur, slipping up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my head against his strong back.
“Mornin’, firefly.” He quickly turns and cups my chin to kiss me, slow and deep.
When we eventually pull apart, he scoops my hair over my ear and says, “I have something for you.”
“For me?” I press my fingers to my chest, feeling my face heat for some reason. Judd has already given me so many things.
A thoughtful day only last week. The sentimental ring on my finger. And so many honest moments.
Stepping around me, he opens a kitchen drawer and pulls out a square, white ring box.
My heart hammers. My thoughts leap. Is this another proposal? An actual one? As Judd clarified, he never officially asked me anything before we agreed to date for ten days. It’s been three weeks. So little time. So much has happened.
I swallow hard, staring at the hinged box he holds out to me. “Do you have something to say?” Shouldn’t he be asking me a question? Is it cliché to ask in the middle of a kitchen on a random Thursday?
Only no day is truly random, and I’m certain today is a specialty date of some sort, but my mind is short circuiting, and I can’t think of a single special occasion for this day.
“Open it.” Judd’s voice is calm, not a whisper of apprehension. His quiet command is still not quite what I thought he’d say.
With shaky fingers, I lift the lid, holding my breath as it slowly reveals the contents. As I’m already wearing the precious ring from his mother on my finger, I’ve never imagined any other ring. In my head, I’m already processing the inside of this box might be an actual wedding band. One pretty and petite that would easily sidle up against the thin gold ring holding an amethyst.
Instead, I blink at the item inside. Then lift my head and question Judd. “It’s a penny.”
What’s with the sinking sensation in my belly? My lips quiver as I force a smile.
“It’s National Lucky Penny Day,” Judd proudly announces. “So, I’m giving you a lucky penny.”
I don’t respond. I don’t know what to say. I don’t recognize this wrongful sense of disappointment.
Judd isn’t asking me to marry him. He is making another sweet gesture to mark another specialty date on the calendar.
But my throat is thick, so I swallow hard again. “Is this penny lucky?” Did he find it on some random pavement somewhere? The shine of the copper is too polished to be a worn penny from a sidewalk.
“I might have cheated on this one. I went to the bank. I wanted a penny as shiny and bright as you are to me. It’s not a polished genie lamp, or an old gravy bowl, but?—”
“I love it.” I snap the lid shut and tip up on my toes to offer him a quick kiss of gratitude. I do love it. The gift is thoughtful and he’s romantic, comparing a lucky penny to a genie lamp. You make wishes on pennies and toss them into ponds.
And my wish on this one would be that Judd Sylver would propose to me for real.
As I pull back from the kiss, my phone rings on the kitchen counter. A quick glance at the caller ID and I know I can’t avoid this call.
“Let me get this,” I pat his chest. “I’ll meet you by the lake.” Maybe I’ll toss in my lucky penny to officially make my wish.
Judd’s brows lift in surprise as I never swim with him in the morning, but he presses a kiss to my cheek as I answer my phone before my voice mail will pick up.
I walk toward the library, taking my call, and fighting my stomach as it drops further.
Once I finish on the phone, I change clothes, but not into a bathing suit. My feet feel heavy as I cross the backyard and head down the dock. Judd is seated on the edge waiting for me, and I fold down beside him.
My heart is beating triple time. I don’t know why I’m so worked up all of the sudden.
“Everything alright?” He turns his head toward me while his feet dangle in the cold water below.
I tuck my knees up beneath my chin and wrap my arms around my shins. “That was Greetings Ambassador.”
“Oh-kay.” The tone of Judd’s voice matches the swirling pit in my belly.
“They have an opening and want to move our meeting up.” I pause and turn my head to look at Judd. “They want to see me tomorrow in New York.”
This shouldn’t be a big deal. I just get myself to Charleston, hop on a plane, and have the meeting tomorrow as scheduled. But I’m off-kilter at the thought of leaving Judd. I’m stumbling with what this appointment might mean for me. For us. If I accept the offer from Greetings Ambassador, I’d be losing my company and I’d be at the whim of theirs . While I don’t think they’ll ask me to move to New York, it is a possibility.
“This is good, right?” Judd nudges my shoulder with his arm, trying to find the positive in the moment when he isn’t always the most optimistic guy.
Suddenly, I’m not only nervous about my meeting but I’m anxious to leave Judd.
Judd watches me a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing while he glances down at the ring on my finger. “I could go with you.”
“You’d do that?” I lift my head which I’d been resting on my knees. Would he really come with me?
I’ll be there, Genie . For some reason, my father’s quieted voice whispers through my head. His promise to pick me up, which ended fatally.
“Of course. I love you.” Judd says is so casually, like he’s been saying it all his life to me.
He runs his hand up my spine and cups the back of my neck, tugging me toward him for a promising kiss.
Only, the energy around us crackles, and suddenly, Judd is pressing me back to the deck.
I shove his swim trunks down his hips. He’s wrestling with my jean shorts. Too soon, we’re naked, Judd over me, slamming into me, and I cry out, desperate for him to do it again and again.
The boards at my back aren’t comfortable but all I can think about is Judd above me, filling me up. The sunshine above him, the blue sky as a backdrop, and his eyes that match that vast space.
I’m swallowed whole by his love and intensity and an unexplainable fear.
I cling to Judd as I fall apart, screaming his name into the morning sunlight. Judd quickly follows, his signature grunt and that finishing wave of pulses becoming all too familiar.
Judd leans forward and kisses me. When he pulls back, bracing on his hands over me, sweat beads his brow.
“I love you,” he says again, like he’s puzzled by that love.
I want to reassure him we will be okay but, for now, we need to get moving. Plane tickets need to be purchased, and my sketches gathered, plus packing, and laptops, and . . .
Judd is hardly out of me and I’m already ten steps ahead. He pops upright, tugging up his swim trunks, before holding out a hand and pulling me upward as well. I slip into my underwear and shorts, and Judd takes my hand, linking our fingers together. I grip his bicep like I need the extra support to guide me up this dock and into the house.
“I’ll get some plane tickets. You shower and start packing.”
“Thank you, Judd. For doing this. For me.” I’m stammering, discombobulated a little from the rush of sex on the dock, and the switch to business mode.
We kiss again, too quick and short, before he smacks my ass, and I head to Judd’s room to shower. One day my belongings were suddenly hung in his closet and moved to empty drawers in his dresser.
After my shower, I pick from the limited dresses I have with me and fold them into my suitcase which should have taken me home, to Knoxville, weeks ago.
How time has flown. The days on the calendar have flipped and three weeks have past, and yet my future is flashing before me. A blur of images I can’t see.
Could I marry Judd? What about children? Should I sell my company? Should I keep it? Can I live in Sterling Falls again? My anxiety is in overdrive, and I rub my thumb over the palm of my left hand, seeking the edge of a gold band, straightening the petite ring on my finger.
The move has become a habit.
And my hand stills when there is nothing to right.
Glancing at my hand, I stretch my fingers, noticing how naked they look. My brain is slow to process what’s missing when the reality hits like I’ve whacked my head.
The amethyst ring with its whisper of diamonds and gold band is missing.
Franticly, I glance down at the floor, dancing in a slow circle in hopes the ring simply slipped from my finger. I drop to my knees and look beneath the bed. I sit back and curl my hand, fisting it and then extending my fingers as if I can make the ring magically reappear.
Rushing back into the bathroom, my heart sinks when I consider the ring might have slid off in the shower or near the sink and been washed down a drain. The idea seems impossible. I would have heard the clink. I would have noticed the slide of the band against my knuckle. The gold circle has never been loose on my finger. I’ve never feared losing it. The fit was perfect, almost too perfect, like it had been made for me.
Hastily, I dress and run toward the great room where Judd is standing, holding his phone. A striped towel circles his hips as he has been waiting for the shower.
“Tell me you took it,” I whisper, my voice harsh and rough with panic. “Tell me you slipped it off my finger without me knowing.”
My heart breaks with the accusation. Logically, I know he wouldn’t have done that.
“What?” Judd’s eyes roam my face. “What are you talking about?”
I clutch my closed hand to my chest, covering my left with my right before finally revealing my naked fingers.
“Your mother’s ring. It’s gone.” My voice breaks on a sob as I hold out my shaky hand which blurs from the tears in my eyes.
Judd remains stone still in front of me a second before I’m in his arms. My wet cheek sticks to his naked chest. His heart thuds as well but mine beats harder.
“I’m so sorry.” I pull back. “We’ll look for it. Two sets of eyes, one search.” I don’t even mean it as a joke. Two sets of eyes are always better than one.
Judd remains mute a second, slowly releasing me like thread pulled from a spool. I feel like I’m coming unraveled. “Tell me when you last saw it.”
I recount glancing at it while on the phone and then righting it with my thumb. “I’d been in the library.”
Judd heads there and I follow, searching the plush rug and even the cushion of the chaise though I hadn’t sat down.
“What about on the dock?” Judd askes
“I don’t know.” I hadn’t been focused on the ring, only on Judd’s face but at one point, I thought I saw him glance at my fingers, like he often does. As if confirming the ring was still on me.
Judd nods, then takes off for the backyard, skipping off the deck with one hop without touching a single stair. Then he’s running for the wooden planks that jut over the water and stops short at the end.
I’m quick to catch up as we both turn in circles, hoping the gold band or purple gem will gleam up at us.
Dread hits me hard with a question I can’t voice. What if I lost the ring on the dock and it somehow rolled into the lake?
“I’m so sorry, Judd. We’ll find it.” I want to reach for him, and I do but he pulls back. His naked chest sucking in as if he’s afraid of my touch.
“It’s not important.” The words are choked and he swallows hard, staring down at his feet.
“How can you say that? It was . . . is . . . very important to you.” His mother’s ring . The last item he has of her. A vivid reminder of who she was. Bright and beautiful. The purple gemstone matches her Violet name.
Nausea rushes up my throat.
“You’re important to me,” Judd says but his voice is distant, yet trembling uncharacteristically. His hands come to his hips, and he blows out a breath before he squints toward the house. “And you need to go.”
“What?” Horror slaps my cheeks. He wants me to leave? I can’t go now.
It was an accident. I haven’t taken it off since he gave it to me, so I’m truly puzzled how it could so easily, so undetectably, slip free. And I can’t leave him. He’ll never forgive me for this infraction.
“I’ll stay. We’ll search everywhere. Maybe get a metal detector.”
“No, firefly.” He nods, the movement slow and methodic. “You can’t miss your meeting.”
Is he prioritizing my meeting over his loss?
“You’ll come with me?” I wave toward him, but I already know the answer.
Judd is shaking his head, glancing back at his feet.
He’ll stay. I’ll go.
Don’t leave me .
Those are the words he once asked of me.
I’m not leaving. Not really. I might be the one going to New York, but it feels like Judd has already left me.
I stare at his impassive features. His gaze staring straight through me rather than at me.
He can’t mean it. He can’t want me to leave. Alone. But he does.
My stomach drops, twisting in disbelief, as silent tears fall down my face unchecked. The bitter, salty taste collects on my lips.
He just promised he’d come with me.
I’ll be there .
I should have known I wasn’t worth any of it.
Suddenly, I’m crushed.