37. Romy
37
romy
“ D oes this look okay?” It was the fourth outfit I’d tried on.
“You look delicious.” His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth.
Jude lay across the bed watching me change. He had cleaned up the stubble along his jaw and effortlessly applied styling gel through his dark locks.
Could he get any sexier? Seriously.
But instead of stroking his ego, I rolled my eyes. “I’m not trying to look edible. I’m trying to look professional.”
I smoothed my hands over the black, cotton jersey dress that hit right above my knees. It was the nicest dress I owned. Most of my clothes were meant for the classroom, or these days, for ranch work. None of them said “courtroom drama.”
After a two-week delay, Hazel was finally going before the judge to receive her charges. Ms. Hoya was not surprised by the note I found or the stowed-away cash and cell phone. She said that we’ll keep that knowledge to ourselves for now; otherwise, we’d have to turn it in as evidence, and the prosecution could use it against her. Hazel was still adamant she acted in self-defense, and it sounded as though Ms. Hoya was going with it. She told me the investigator took photos of Hazel the day of her arrest. Her arms and torso were littered with bruises, some deep purple and others yellowed with age. More evidence Hazel and Jesse’s relationship was abusive. However, they may need to swallow the unlawful possession and evading arrest charges.
I decided not to submit a character letter to the judge—at least for now. Jude supported my decision to hold off on testifying. Neither one of us were aware of what Junior knew or what he intended to do. But we both surmised that he was bound to fuck up somewhere. We would wait for him to play his hand before we decided. It was nice to think as we now, knowing Jude and I were in this together.
Jude pushed off the mattress, wrapping me in his arms, his face automatically burrowing into my hair. This was his new way of soothing himself—and me. He never hugged me now without his nose buried in my locks. He said it was like “taking a hit of a pina colada and happiness.” His therapist told him the sense of smell carried the most powerful trigger to our memories, and he wanted to have my scent burned into his brain. He wanted to be able to ride on the high all day while he trained and worked, until his next fix when we collided in the evenings.
I loved it! It comforted me just as much as it did him and made me feel cherished. Wanted. Needed. Like we belonged to each other.
I couldn’t get enough of his scent, either. And if we were comparing it to shooting back a cocktail, Jude was like a spicy mint julep.
Did I just invent a cocktail? Because there definitely should be one, and I’d call it “The Horny Bull.” I snickered at my own cleverness.
My arms tightened around his waist, and I pressed my cheek to his broad chest. “You know you don’t have to go with me. I know Chuck said he didn’t need you, but he can’t rely on just the seasonal help to move the herd. Plus, with your fight in less than four weeks, you should be training nonstop.”
Jude cupped my face, tipping it up to look at him, my chin resting on his sternum. His aqua eyes shone with warmth and tenderness, causing my heart to skip a beat.
I was falling, hard and fast, and I had a feeling he’d catch me if I asked him to. With how attentive he’d been since the rodeo, I could tell he was just biding his time until he told me how he really felt. But I could tell he was scared, nervous even, wondering if he would spook me if he peeled back the curtain to reveal he was falling, too.
But I wasn’t scared. Not anymore.
We had been tiptoeing around it for days. Showing each other, often two times a day—morning and night, sometimes even with a quickie in his truck or tack room—how much we craved one another. We couldn’t get enough. We were head over heels, half embarrassing Chuck, when we’d spot each other across the stable yard or open field, running toward each other as if it had been months instead of mere hours. I couldn’t resist jumping into Jude’s arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and peppering his face with kisses. I held on to him like a freaking koala until Chuck cleared his throat and we’d break apart, exchanging looks that promised off-the-chart orgasms later.
I was totally obsessed with him, and I died every time he flipped that baseball hat backward. He thought it was so cute and teased me relentlessly. Now he flipped his hat on purpose just to hear me release an involuntary moan.
There were so many times he caught those three little words on the way out of his mouth. It made me secretly giggle, release an inner-girl squeal, and kick my legs in excitement. I just needed to give him a little push.
And it needed to be soon.
Jude was leaving in two weeks for Vegas. He had a series of promotional events he had to attend before the big fight. He tried to get out of them, but his boss, Mr. Venture, reminded him he was in no position to break contractual obligations after the “bar fight.” It was hardly a bar fight when one punch ended in a knockout. Alex also advised Jude to finish the last of his training at their home gym.
He didn’t want to go, not when Chuck needed his help and I was in the middle of Hazel’s legal shit. But I insisted he do it. I promised we’d FaceTime every night, and I planned on flying to Vegas for his fight. I hadn’t told him yet that I’d received calls to interview for those teaching positions I applied for, but I would … soon.
“Nothing is more important than you.” His thumbs swept my cheeks. “I won’t be able to be here for you in a couple of weeks, so you need to give me this one. You have to let me be here for you now while I still can.”
We leaned into each other, our noses brushing. Our lips connected on a soft, sweet kiss. A kiss that said it all without speaking the words. Heat flooded my belly and bloomed between my legs. If he just opened his mouth for me to taste him, I’d be pushing him down on the mattress.
“Mmm. Delicious.”
“Hey, that’s my word!”
I giggled. “We should probably go before you make me late.”
“ I make you late?” He did a whole show of checking me out from head to toe, as if I was wearing this casual sheath dress to tempt him.
I patted him on his chest. Damn! His pecs had gotten harder and more defined over the last few weeks. Wrong move, Romy. I wanted to peel that blue-collared dress shirt right off him.
“Okay, you’re right.”
“What did you say?” His eyes were wide in wonder.
I grabbed my one pair of heels. Nude sandals with a four-inch chunky heel.
“Nothing.” I shrugged, then headed out of the room.
“ Romy. You said I was right!” he said in amusement, following me out to the living room.
I stopped to pull on one shoe.
“Don’t get used to it, buddy.”
I leaned down to pull on the other, giving Jude a perfect view of my ass while he shoved his feet into his boots.
“You’re just asking for it, aren’t you?” He gave me a sound smack on the butt.
My breath hitched on the impact, liquid heat returning. Promising fun later.
Honestly, I was anxious about today. I had no idea what to expect. I couldn’t think of anything other than the imminent fact I was about to see my sister escorted before a judge, while Junior sat behind the prosecution, that creepy, smug look on his face.
Jude noticed my change in demeanor as soon as I straightened and shrugged on my purse.
“Hey.” He drew me back into him. “It’s okay to worry.”
“I just don’t know what to expect.”
“I know, honey, but I’ll be there with you. You’re not doing this alone. Remember? Whatever you face, we face together. Junior won’t get within ten feet of you. I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”
He kissed my head, and I took one more pull of his cologne before nodding into his shoulder.
“Together.”
I didn’t say a word while I gripped Jude’s hand on our way back to the truck, still processing what the judge ordered. Hazel was denied bail to await her trial for first-degree murder, unlawful carry, and evading arrest.
“Thanks for keeping your mouth shut, Romy Miller!” Junior cupped his hands around his mouth to holler across the courthouse parking lot.
Jude stiffened, swinging around to face him where he stood beside his beat-up 4x4.
“Jude. Don’t.” I pulled him back to me. “It’s not worth it.”
“Good. Keep your dog in check!” Junior wailed.
Oh, wow! He didn’t just say that. He was trying to goad Jude into swinging at him. That would be just what he wanted, Jude hitting him in front of the courthouse.
“Fuck you, Junior!” I yelled back, tugging Jude with me. “Ignore him.”
“He makes it pretty hard to,” Jude admitted. “You should file a restraining order.”
“If he comes near me again, I will.” I led him the remaining way to the truck.
“You need to. I don’t want him deciding to come near you as soon as I leave town. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
I understood Jude’s concern. Even more so now. I felt as if my heart still hadn’t kick-started since hearing the charges, seeing my big sister staring numbly into space, looking so broken, and the announcement that the next court date was August 20th—the day of Jude’s fight. Of course, my father didn’t show up today, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up if it went to trial. Knowing Frank, he only made an appearance when it benefited him, when he could swing the attention to himself.
“I’m serious, Romy. I won’t feel as though I can leave you otherwise. As it is, I don’t feel good about going into this fight knowing you can’t be there with me, and I can’t be here with you.”
That’s why, twenty-five minutes later, we were entering the Willows Police Department.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” one of the deputies declared when we walked in.
I would have noticed him anywhere. In fact, I was surprised I had yet to run into him, considering he was the only restaurant owner in town, and, apparently, worked on the police force. If not for the thinning hair on top and the fact that he looked a little broader through the chest, his neck thickened with muscles, Chase Houghton looked exactly the same.
“Chase,” Jude greeted, going in for a handshake.
Chase tried to hide the flinch, but I saw it as soon as Jude gripped the hell out of his hand with his large mitts.
“Good to see you, Romy,” Chase said, giving me a side hug. “You look great!”
I swore I heard a growl escape Jude.
“You, too, Chase.” I returned the brief side hug.
“What can I do ya for?” he asked, looping his thumbs through his gun belt.
“We need to file a restraining order.” Jude’s voice was low and serious, very reminiscent of Jude “The Mood.”
I wondered if Chase recognized it as well because his eyebrows rose. “This doesn’t happen to be about you coldcocking Junior Matheus at the Rooster, does it?”
Jude only pressed his lips together in response.
“We all know. The whole department follows MMA, and we’re big Jude ‘The Bull’ fans. Not to mention, I know everything that happens in this town way before it comes across my desk. Benefits of owning one of the only restaurants in town where the local book club meets. They’re more like a bunch of Karens who drink their lunch and troll the Nextdoor app,” Chase said conversationally, but it came across like gloating. He rubbed his jaw, sizing up Jude, trying to see if he was impressed at all.
It was interesting to watch. Chase was always puffing up his chest around Jude as if he were in competition, and it didn’t feel much different now. Only these men weren’t in high school anymore.
I turned to Jude, threading my fingers through his and giving his palm a squeeze. His eyes flicked to me for just a moment, and it was all the reassurance he needed to know I chose him, that we were here together.
“Come to my office,” Chase gestured, bringing us over to his desk hidden behind a cubicle in the bullpen.
He shoved some file boxes out of the way and pushed an extra chair in front of the desk for Jude and me to sit down.
“It’s for me, Chase … the restraining order,” I explained, not wanting Jude to feel as if he had to do this for me, even though I knew he would. I was a big girl. I could handle this. I also wanted Jude to feel confident that he didn’t need to worry while he was away.
“Ah, I see. It has to do with Hazel then?” he asked, steepling his fingers beneath his clean-shaven chin.
I nodded. “Junior’s angry and wants justice for his brother. But he’s taken it a bit too far.” I exchanged looks with Jude, hoping he understood why I wasn’t going to tell Chase about Junior attacking me. “On more than one occasion, he has approached me, made me feel unsafe—in public, too.”
“He approached her at the rodeo,” Jude supplied.
“He doesn’t want me to speak on Hazel’s behalf.”
Chase’s dark brows rose even higher than they did earlier. “He’s trying to obstruct justice?”
I held up a hand to stop him there. “I don’t want to press any charges against him. I just want to make sure he stays away from me, so I can feel safe in Willows and not worry that I’m going to face retaliation from him should I decide to testify.”
Chase nodded, listening. “We can do that. Let me go grab the paperwork you need to fill out. Once it’s completed, you just have to take it to the courthouse to file.”
“Thank you, Chase.”
Chase got up and walked away, leaving Jude and me at his desk.
“I’m so proud of you, honey,” Jude said, leaning in to wrap his arm around me and pucker kisses into my hair.
“Thanks, babe. You’re right. This is the correct thing to do.”
“Did you just tell me I’m right for the second time today?” He pulled away, beaming at me.
I giggled. “Don’t get used to it. This is unprecedented and probably will never happen again,” I teased.
“I better get this in writing, then, to commemorate the day.”
Chase cleared his throat, interrupting our flirting. I was getting quite used to people clearing their phlegm around us.
“It shouldn’t take too long to file if you get it to the courthouse today. We can have it served on Junior by tomorrow morning,” he informed, handing me the form and a pen.
“So you and Romy, then?” Chase asked, gesturing to me as if I wasn’t sitting right in front of him.
“Yep,” Jude said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. Making his biceps bulge. I bit back a laugh.
“I always figured there was something between you two. Thought that’s why Romy dropped off the face of the earth.”
I shook my head, signing my name with a flourish, digging the tip of the pen into the paper while I dated it. “Pretty sure it’s none of your business, Chase.”
“Just making small talk, Rom.”
The nickname grated on my nerves. As though he still knew me as he did when we were kids. Other than my sister, he’d been the only other one to call me that. I never liked it coming out of his mouth then, and I certainly didn’t like it now. Especially in front of Jude.
I handed him the form and gave him my most syrupy smile. “Uh-huh. Surprised you even noticed, considering the whole time we were dating, you were hoping to date my sister instead.” Reminding him of his parting words. “At least he chose me for me, not because of Hazel. Hate to break it to ya, but Hazel would have never chosen you. We Miller girls like our dicks big.”
Chase’s face went beet red, and Jude let out a choked laugh before slapping a hand over his mouth.
I pushed out of my seat, pulling Jude with me.
“ He is also the reason why I came back and why I intend to stay.” This really wasn’t about Chase. This was all for Jude. I was so in love with the man, and I wanted him to see I was willing to stand up for him and our relationship. Words would never hold the same weight as actions. He needed to believe he was enough for me. That he was more than worthy.
I started to turn around but then swung back around to see Chase looking dumbfounded. “Oh, here’s your pen. Thanks so much, Chase. I really appreciate you helping me out. See you around town.”
I wiggled my fingers at him before intertwining my fingers through Jude’s and marching out of there as if I owned the place. Jude wasn’t the only one proud of me.