Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Jude
J ess arrived right on time looking…
Was it disrespectful to say edible?
Probably.
So. No. She looked beautiful. And intelligent.
And unfortunately, somehow a little… off.
“I brought this wine,” she said, holding out a decent-looking pinot noir before I could say anything, then stepped inside.
“Thank you. Come in,” I deadpanned, since she was already more than halfway down the entry hall as I closed the door.
I watched her stop and take in the living room, then the kitchen to the right, where I’d done everything but the last few steps for our dinner. On the island countertop sat a bowl of tortilla chips and a few little dipping bowls containing salsa, guacamole, queso, and a spicy chipotle ranch.
She whipped around after a beat. “This is… how is this so perfect? Your cabin was the perfect cabin and now this?”
Her gaze swept over the food again, then rose to meet mine with what looked like accusation.
“I’m… sorry?”
She huffed out a laugh, then spotted my giant beast of a cat slinking toward her. “And the perfect kitty boy, too, huh?” she said in that voice that was just a touch sweeter than the usual smokey siren song I savored.
Though I couldn’t complain about her sweettalking my cat, nor could I regret that he seemed to love her madly already.
Join the club.
Because it didn’t seem particularly respectful to enjoy the view of her very fine curves in those pants as she bent to pet Bones, I moved to the kitchen and, for lack of anything else to do, washed my hands. A minute or two later, she joined me, a serious expression taking over the one of peace she’d had moments ago.
“Kurt found me during my shift and wanted to talk.” She spat the last word, clearly indicating how she felt about the matter.
My gut clenched right as a fire started in my head. “Are you okay? What did he say?”
Can I punch him now? Can I beat him to a bloody pulp to teach him one of so many lessons he missed?
She eased the faucet on and pumped soap onto her hands, then scrubbed.
“He said he’s sorry. He shouldn’t have left me.” A humorless laugh escaped as she rinsed the bubbles away. “And then he said he’s been such a jerk because he didn’t expect seeing me to hurt so much, and he really didn’t expect to see me with someone who’d betrayed him.”
She turned slowly, drying her hands on the towel resting next to the sink where I’d just left it. Her eyes practically burned through me when she met mine, effectively echoing the flame of anger rising higher as her words sank in.
“Betrayed him.” My mouth spoke without thought, like I needed to hear it before I could fully make sense of it.
Nodding, she reached for me, her fingers gripping my shirt. “I set him straight.”
She was so intense, and yet the upset and sadness I’d sensed at the door had melted into something different now. Almost like she wanted me to know she’d defended herself and me.
“He didn’t deserve a chance to talk to you and throw his BS around like he’s ever actually been sorry.” My hands came to cup her face. “If he ever felt sorry, it was for himself.”
“I know. I told him he should think twice before taking any jobs in Silverton again.”
A smile pulled at my lips. “Left him with a threat, eh? I like your style, Korbel.”
She pursed her lips, staying a grin. “It was pretty mild, but I think he got the hint I wasn’t about to sign up for any more heart to hearts.”
I wanted to hug her, then kiss her, then lay her down and worship her until the sun came up. But just because we’d kissed before didn’t mean I was welcome to do it now, especially with the twinge of knowing telling me the resolution here wasn’t this easy.
My fingers dragged along her scalp, hoping to provide a little comfort and connection. I needed it, and it felt like maybe she did, too.
She blinked hard a few times and her eyes glazed with tears. She might as well have ripped out my heart because a front-row seat to this was more brutal than I’d ever imagined. I’d seen her furious—I’d provoked such a response from her time and time again. And I’d seen her angry and tired and fed up. I’d seen her delirious and exhausted and ill… but this was new.
A need to make this right roared through me. I’d search the world to find a solution here. I’d raze cities to stop her tears—to fix this.
She shouldn’t be crying unless she was so happy it overflowed into liquid joy on her face. She shouldn’t cry unless she was in a state of such ecstasy her body had to surrender something and this was one way it released an overflow of bliss.
None of that made sense, but the madness in my mind had me howling at the crescent moon, yearning to stop her sadness.
“I’m sorry.” She pulled away and turned her back to me, shielding herself from my prying eyes.
With one hand soft on her shoulder, I eased her around, then pulled her into a hug.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything. You’ve done nothing wrong.” I bent and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head, desperate to soothe her.
Her arms slowly looped around my back and a trace of the gripping anxiety begging me to make everything better loosened.
“I hate that talking to him has me like this,” she said into my side, her words muffled but thankfully still intelligible.
“He was your fiancé. No matter how many years and miles between then and now, that’s still something that’s going to dredge up a lot of feelings, even if it had ended mutually.” Did I hate that it hadn’t been? Yes. But it wasn’t something I would ever say aloud.
She loosened her grip on me and tilted her head up so I could see her reddened eyes.
“That’s just it, though. I stopped feeling like it was one-sided not long after he’d left because even if I couldn’t let myself believe that he’d cheated, he’d walked away. I realized I’d forced it—that we never should’ve gotten engaged and if I hadn’t been so obvious about wanting that, maybe we wouldn’t have been so caught up in what should be happening. And I never wanted to be with someone like that. I wanted to be with someone who would fight for me.” Her jaw flexed against the emotion rising again and she breathed through the tears until they settled and then continued. “I hate that his leaving me felt like a confirmation.”
My heart thudded a steady rhythm and I braced for what would come next. “A confirmation of what?”
Her gaze cast down and her voice softened like maybe she didn’t want me to hear. “That I’m easy to leave.”
My heart tripped and before I thought better of it, I crushed her to me, mind scrambling for words to refute this.
Her words dripped with conviction, like his leaving her really had been proof for this theory and not the failing of a world-class idiot.
I slipped my hands to her hips and hoisted her onto the counter, pulling back to find her face tear-tracked and staring at me with confusion.
Cupping her face, I swiped my thumbs over her cheeks. “You are not easy to leave. Kurt was an idiot for leaving you, though I can’t say I’m sorry he’s out of your life. And whoever else has done this to you…” I swore, the anger and hurt for her nearly choking out my words. “They were wrong to do it, and such a fool. Because you… Jess, God , you’re everything.”
How could I make her see? How could I force away the shadows in her eyes and imbue the truth that she was wonderful and worthy of love and fidelity and every good thing?
Her lips trembled and her brow furrowed, and I braced myself for what would come, summoning the ability to speak words she could hear.
Her fingers found the placket of my shirt and she focused there as one brightly polished blue fingernail toyed with a button. She was buying time, swallowing down the tears threatening again.
“I hate that I’m crying on our second date.”
Her brown eyes tipped up to meet mine, a mess of emotions there I couldn’t decipher. I couldn’t right all the wrongs, but I could push her buttons enough to get her through them. “I told you not to apologize.”
A smile flashed at the familiar bossiness in my tone before she shoved me back with no force. “Fine, then. I’m not sorry. Now feed me guacamole.”