Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Jess
I slipped into the giant truck at exactly nineteen minutes until my shift. I’d hoped to be even earlier, but my alarm hadn’t woken me from my nap quite as early as I’d planned and well, here we were.
Vanity should’ve had no part in my life at this point, but I couldn’t stand the thought of skipping the basic makeup and hair prep I’d planned on, even if Jude had seen me at my worst. I wanted him to like me, or keep liking me, and showing up looking like these long days with endless variables for pretty celebrities were dragging me through mud wasn’t high on my list.
“Hey,” I said, stomach flipping as I pulled the door closed and got hit with the fresh scent of his laundry paired with the leather seats of his truck.
His gaze traveled over me like he was checking for injuries and then hooked into mine. His expression was so severe, a sensation akin to panic flashed though me. Had I misread his text? I’d read it as fun and flirty and kind of like he was desperate to see me.
Maybe he’d been worried. Or about to tell me that all of this between us was just too much of a mess to keep bothering with.
“How are you? Are you… good?”
The soft hope lingering on his face and in the pinch of his brow shifted something enough that it clicked, a key turning in a lock. He wasn’t done, but he’d started to worry I was.
“I’m great. I’m glad to see you, and?—”
Breath rushed from him, and he grabbed my head on either side and drew me into him, melting me with a demanding kiss, all in about two seconds.
My eyes, wide open from the surprise of his movement, slowly fluttered closed as the heat of his mouth on mine, ravenous and just as needy for me as I felt for him, took over all my senses.
He groaned as I opened for him and he took what he wanted, kissing me deeper and mesmerizing me. I couldn’t stand the center console between us or the way I had to lean, so I broke the kiss for a second and scrambled over, seating myself in his lap, and took his face in my hands this time.
No words passed between us, but the heat in his eyes sent fire low in my belly, and I dove back in. I’d never been so happy about his propensity for sounds , not words, because he was showing me just how much he enjoyed this with his nonverbal cues. Funny how I’d never thought about how much I could like this about him.
We only came up for air when my alarm sounded, loud and cruel, shocking me into breaking the drowning kisses between us with a gasp. I dove for my purse, jammed my finger against the screen to stop the racket, and then looked back at Jude to find him wide-eyed and bracing me at my hips so I wouldn’t tumble off him.
I started to giggle—yes, giggle, because he looked so genuinely confused about what was happening and he had bee-stung lips and ragged breaths—and soon, he joined me. His low chuckle rumbled between us, and in another few seconds we were both laughing hysterically. I laughed so hard I could hardly breathe and rested my forehead on his shoulder while I worked to regain composure.
His large hands smoothed up and down my back in a motion so deliciously comforting, my laughter soon melted away and I reluctantly sat up.
“I didn’t plan to spend the time that way,” he said, reaching up to tuck some hair behind my ear.
My stomach flipped again—it had taken up part-time acrobatics whenever he came close. “Me neither. But I’m not mad about it.”
His gorgeous lips twitched into the tiniest hint of an upward tilt, almost like he felt he’d overshared his smile during our laughing fit.
“No? Good.” The humor tapered off into another one of our eye-locking stares, and my heart rate ramped up again.
“I really have to go,” I said, glancing at my stupid watch and seeing I was right—I really, really had to go. “When can we…” Do this again? Do more? Sit and talk? Snuggle on your couch with your beast-sized cat? “Hang out again?”
One big hand slipped up my neck and his thumb and index finger pinched my chin and guided my face to his. He pressed a long, slow, delectable kiss to my lips. “I’ll talk Kenny into switching so we both have tomorrow night off?”
My answering grin could not be contained. “I like your style, Beast.”
He gave me a smug little look that sent heat to my toes.
“I like your everything, Pop.”
I floated on the nineteen stolen minutes with Jude for the next day and a half. Our schedules were as opposite as ever, but his text confirming Kenny had agreed to take his assignment tomorrow night sent me soaring.
Why did I suddenly have such trouble thinking about anything but him? I mean, I was standing in a room with Oscar winners and famous producers and geniuses of show business and all I wanted was to jump my taciturn ex-soldier’s bones.
Okay, wow. The kissing had left me feeling… well, hot. But it was that parting shot, his, “I like your everything,” that kept swirling around in my head.
Could it be true? Funny enough, I could say the same thing about him, so I didn’t necessarily disbelieve him. It just seemed… too perfect. Too much like something I’d always longed for.
That comment, and the way his hands felt so good wherever they touched, lingered in my mind. The way he knew when to challenge me, when to chase me, when to tease me… so good.
If I’d ever had doubts about his interest in something now , they were non-existent. The trick was feeling like maybe that’s all this was, that maybe we were running off of his past feelings, my growing current ones, and if we kept going I’d end up head over heels while he felt free to walk away.
But there it was—the specter that haunted any relationship I even considered. With Kurt, I’d thought I’d found a home and a partnership. I’d decided he was it and maybe I’d even forced myself into believing it. Forced him, too, maybe. He was charming and easy and made me feel like I was his whole world and I’d let it happen because it fit the narrative I wanted. It had been a lovely little fantasy I didn’t mind wrapping up in right up until I realized it was just that—a total fantasy. I was the emperor standing naked, finally realizing his new clothes were nothing but the stuff of imagination and deception.
But things with Jude were different. First, I had no doubt he was a deeply faithful person in every aspect of his life, even to the point of being maddening. He’d refused to tell me what happened all those years ago in explicit detail because he’d believed it was wrong. This wasn’t the kind of man who cheated.
He would never cheat. And he had a life here with more than just me—he hadn’t built me up to be some kind of “everything” that set me up to fail. He had friends and a support system so robust I hadn’t even realized he was grieving his sole remaining family member.
But if he lost interest or never regained the depth of feeling he’d had for me, or worse, realized that what he thought he’d felt before he got to know me as he had lately was nothing substantial, he’d walk.
He was faithful, honorable, and ruthless. In work, and in life, he wouldn’t waste breath on something he didn’t care about. And I could only imagine how painful it would be to face an ending with Jude when he was ready to dispose of me .
So along with my cheery thoughts about hot kisses and warm, rough hands, I also had a plague of doubts and questions swirling around making me itch to see him for more than a few minutes so I could verbalize some of this.
By the next afternoon when I finally came off duty, only a few minutes from running home and getting showered up so I could go to Jude’s after turning my gear in, Luc and Bruce were talking in the entryway.
“Everything okay?”
Bruce wasn’t easily disgruntled, and as far as I was tracking, things had been going well with the event for us on the security end and the town overall.
Luc responded first. “I spoke with Jenn about a concern. Her response didn’t alleviate that concern.”
The beautiful man’s wrinkled brow went nowhere, and I could almost see his mind racing through what he’d learned. The comment sparked my memory of Cara’s odd statement a few days ago.
“Does it have anything to do with Anthony Pollusk, the producer?” I’d heard the name whispered and had gathered this must’ve been who Cara meant.
Both Bruce and Luc turned to me, eyes keen.
“Yes. What do you know?” Bruce asked.
“Not much. Only that when I saw Cara and Jenna the other day for a minute at Guac, Cara said something about going to her meeting with the ‘creepy producer.’ Jenna visibly deflated and they left almost immediately.” I’d made a point to track down information on the situation, but I’d utterly failed… so now was my chance.
Luc’s jaw ticked. “She’s been off for a few days. It has to be thanks to him.”
Bruce put a hand on Luc’s shoulder. “We don’t know that for sure, but I think it’s wise to dig deeper. I’ll call Julian and see if we can meet with Cara.”
“What can I do?” I asked, eager to help.
Bruce smiled. “You can go to dinner at Beast’s and take a night off. We’ll update you tomorrow.”
I sputtered, not expecting him to know about the plan or say anything if he did, but since he and Luc both chuckled, they clearly both knew.
“Don’t be so surprised. Your man had to ask Kenny to cover his shift. Didn’t take long to break Kenny wide open about why he traded, and from there…”
I rolled my eyes. “From there, you pack of gossipy old ladies disguised as ex-soldiers spread it around. Got it. Did Barbie even officially pass SERE?” Frustration and something closer to… happiness, sifted through me.
“Hey, I’m happy for you,” Bruce said, a genuine Bruce Camden special sparkling back at me.
“Thanks, Jaws. Cookie… see you both tomorrow.”
With that, I left, eager to get home, anxious to see Beast, and reeling from the idea that Bruce had called Jude my man and the realization that I very much wanted it to be an accurate title for Jude Rawlins… as long as he wanted it just as much.