Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JUDE
A tense silence hangs heavy in the space between Abbey and me as I walk her to my townhouse after closing the taproom. With it being a Friday night, a few people are out and about, most of them heading to one of the other bars in the downtown area. Other than that, the streets are quiet.
Which only serves to amplify the unease between us.
It doesn’t help that my mind keeps replaying Finn’s words from earlier today. How I can’t keep living like this.
I know he’s right. But how the hell am I supposed to move on when everything in me feels like it’s tied to the past?
I try to focus on the rhythm of my footsteps, hoping that might help me work things out in my head.
It doesn’t.
With each step, the tension surrounding me feels like a noose, squeezing me tighter and tighter until I’m convinced I’ll suffocate unless I finally release this pressure.
“I was married,” I blurt out as Abbey is about to disappear inside my townhouse.
She stops in her tracks, but doesn’t immediately look at me, several long seconds ticking by. Finally, she meets my gaze from over her shoulder, a mixture of compassion and confusion in her blue eyes.
“We met in college,” I explain, my voice hoarse. “She was everything I thought I wanted. Beautiful, intelligent, ambitious. We made all these plans and I couldn’t wait to build a life with her. We faced a few obstacles here and there, especially when I dropped out of school, but we made the distance work. When she graduated and took a job in Lake Tahoe, I didn’t hesitate. I proposed right away.”
Abbey fully faces me, her gaze softening. I don’t know why I suddenly feel compelled to share all of this with her, but I can’t stop the words from pouring out. With each one, it becomes a little easier to breathe.
“Everyone said we were too young — only twenty-three — but we didn’t care. We were happy. And when she told me she was pregnant several years later, I was so excited about starting a family with her. Everything was perfect…” My throat tightens and I struggle to swallow back the knot forming. “Until it wasn’t.”
Pinching my lips together in a tight line, I fight to push down the surge of emotions bubbling up inside me as I relive the worst moment of my life. When Abbey reaches for my hand and intertwines our fingers, it gives me the strength and reassurance to continue.
“Krista went into labor early. Thirty weeks.” My voice cracks, the memory clawing at me. “Our little girl fought so hard, but in the end, we lost her.” I blink back the tears threatening to fall. “After that, we lost each other.”
Abbey parts her lips, but I cut her off, needing to get this all out before I change my mind.
“Every time I walked into that room afterwards, it was like reliving it all over again. The hope, the excitement, the pain…it’s all there. It’s why I’ve done nothing with that space. And when I saw you in there…” I trail off, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I was an ass to you, Abbey. And it wasn’t because you were in the nursery.”
She tilts her head, her brow creasing. “It wasn’t?”
“No.”
“Then—”
“You scare the shit out of me,” I confess.
Surprise flickers in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You make me want more.”
I cup her face, closing the gap between us until our breaths intermingle in the warm night air.
“You make me feel things I haven’t let myself feel in a long time, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to think about that.”
My declaration hangs in the air between us, echoing in the stillness of the night. I half expect for her to push me away. Tell me she could never forgive me for how I’ve treated her these past several days. Honestly, she shouldn’t forgive me.
But then her lips curve up into the same enigmatic smile that drew me to her when we first met, making me want to know all of her secrets.
As she presses her body against mine, I can feel her warmth. Her understanding. Her forgiveness.
I don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve her.
But when her mouth inches closer, I don’t care. The heaviness in my chest fades away, and I focus on her and her alone. Not my pain. Not my regrets. Just Abbey, and the way she makes me feel more alive than I thought possible.
“Maybe you should stop thinking,” she says, husky and wanton.
“And do what?”
“Maybe you should feel instead.” Her lips hover achingly close to mine. “Feel me, Jude.”
Her words are like a siren’s call, stirring something inside of me I can’t ignore. Any lingering resistance evaporates, and I slam my mouth against her, electricity shooting through my veins at the feel of her lips moving with mine. I’ve fantasized about what it would be like to kiss her more times than I care to admit. Even when I was trying to avoid her.
She tastes even better than I imagined, her tongue gliding against mine as if this is a dance we’ve done dozens of times before, consuming me until I can no longer breathe.
I tear away, panting in an attempt to regain some control over myself.
“We… We shouldn’t do this,” I manage to say.
“Oh.” Her expression falls, and she averts her gaze. “Right. Bad idea since you’re technically my boss and all that. Sorry.” She starts to turn and head into the house.
But before she can get far, I grab a hold of her wrist and pull her back against me. Nuzzling my face into her neck, I rasp out, “I don’t mean we shouldn’t do this at all.”
“Then wha?—”
“Mrs. Carlson lives across the street and loves to report on everything she observes in the neighborhood.”
I pull back and trace my gaze over her face. Piercing blue eyes. Slender nose. Plump lips I’m lucky enough to know how they taste.
“I don’t know about you, but I’d rather keep my sex life private.”
She smirks, hoisting herself onto her toes. “You’re being a bit presumptuous, aren’t you?”
“Perhaps,” I begin, placing my hand on her hip and steering her into the house, kicking the door closed behind us. “Although I prefer to think of it as setting a goal and developing a plan to achieve it. It’s not a completely unrealistic one. In fact, if you ask me, it would qualify as a SMART goal.”
“A SMART goal?” She raises an inquisitive brow.
“Precisely.” I give her a wicked look as I press her against the wall. “Specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and timely. Obviously, it’s specific enough. I want to put my cock in your pussy and make you see stars.”
Her complexion turns red, and I love that I have this effect on her. Even so, she doesn’t shy away. If anything, she wants to hear more.
“And measurable?” she coos, batting her lashes. “How will you measure your progress?”
“I can just look at you to find out how close I am to achieving it.”
“How so?”
“Seeing as your breathing has increased and you keep moistening your lips, I’d say those are reliable indicators of whether I’m progressing toward my goal.” I curve toward her, nipping at her skin. “I’d bet if I ran my fingers along your panties right now, they’d be soaked. Am I right?”
“Maybe,” she exhales before taking a moment to compose herself. “What about achievable?”
“I’d like to think it is. And then some.” I wink.
“Relevant?” Her question drips with lust as she peers at me through hooded lids.
“I can’t think of a more relevant goal at the moment,” I answer gruffly, grinding my hips against her, letting her feel just how relevant it is.
“Timely?” she whimpers, briefly closing her eyes as she basks in the feel of me.
“God, I fucking hope so.” I bury my head in her neck, desperate to lose myself in her.
“Well then…” She drapes an arm over my shoulder and rakes her fingers through my hair. “Let’s see if I can help you achieve your goal.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” I growl.
Then I crush my lips back against hers.