13. Harlow
Harlow
I didn’t drink anywhere near enough for a hangover, but somehow I still had that looming sense of dread that too much booze always brought me.
Last night, dead silence filled Jude’s truck the entire ride home, nothing but the tires moving over dirt roads and the sound of wind outside.
I hadn’t wanted to start a conversation after the scene he’d caused, and it seemed like he didn’t want to talk to me either.
His knuckles had been white on the steering wheel until we reached the sign for Bramley Farm.
I rolled over, as much as I could in this small bed, and dug my face into the pillow with a groan. Every step forward with him seemed to create another step back.
And it felt like Jude didn’t even want me here again.
He’d stormed into The Crabapple and embarrassed me in front of the whole town. I’d been having fun dancing by myself, and was about to shove away that man I didn’t know. But Jude couldn’t be certain that I was uncomfortable. He didn’t take a second to ask. No, he just made a scene.
Maybe he just didn’t want me to get attached to some guy and stick around Autumn Creek too long. Even if that was definitely not what was happening when he walked in.
I took a deep breath and let the thought simmer as I left my bed. I pulled on leggings and a knitted sweater, but when I looked for my coat it wasn’t on the hook beside the door.
Shit. That had my purse in it too. I’d been using my phone to pay at the bar, so I must have left them both at Sweater Weather.
I slipped on some Uggs and locked the door behind me.
I was already planning to grab some groceries, so a little detour by the cafe wouldn’t hurt. Maybe I could even debrief with Kasey. Get her take on the whole don’t talk to her situation.
I eyed the door that belonged to the man who had confused my thoughts once again, as I walked along the front porch.
My mind wouldn’t shake off that moment, as I unlocked my rental car and sat down in the driver’s seat.
Jude had just appeared out of nowhere and told that guy—Trevor, apparently—to get away from me.
My brain ran in circles over the memory as I set off down the long dirt driveway. The little hatchback made a grinding noise as it made its way up the hill. Then a hissing noise as I drove down the other side.
My fingers tapped nervously on the wheel. Was that just a regular car noise? I wasn’t exactly an expert; I’d been taking public transit for years.
I pulled over to the side of the road, and parked just at the entrance to Bramley Farm, beside the red painted sign promising fresh apples, donuts, and cider. I took a second to catch my breath and listened for the noises to stop. Once they did, I put the car into drive, but nothing moved. Nothing.
It gave up on me. In the middle of a country road.
Shit.
Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten the cheapest rental option, but in my defense I thought I was being economical when I was going to be renting it for a whole month while I settled in. I pulled my phone out of the centre console, and it had one measly bar of service.
Because of course, it did.
I guess I was going to be confronting what happened last night a bit sooner than I had anticipated, because the only place I could think to go was back over that hill.
I knocked on the charcoal painted wood of Jude’s front door, and leaned back against a porch post. Inside, his feet padded down the stairs, and my stomach began to tie itself in knots as I waited.
He opened the door wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and not much else.
I sucked in a shallow breath and pressed myself closer to the firm wood behind me, hoping it would keep me upright.
They were loose, hanging low on his hips, and his bare chest was an expanse of muscles that I did not need to be staring at right now.
“Harlow.” His voice was even more gravelly in the morning.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I probably should’ve just walked into town, or wandered around until I found service. This was a mistake.
He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I wasn’t sleeping.” His honeyed gaze traced over me. “What’s wrong?”
“I was headed downtown and my car just stopped.” He braced his arms against the doorframe and leaned forward, peering past me to find his truck alone in front of the house.
“I think I need some help moving it, if you know anyone I can call…” I drew my lip between my teeth. “And if you have a number for a taxi.”
He shook his head. “You’re not going to get a taxi on a Sunday morning in Autumn Creek, sweetheart. I’ll drive you.”
I bristled at the nickname. Was he really still making fun of me now? Way to kick a girl when she’s down.
“Jude, no. It’s fine.” My words came out jumbled. “I don’t want you to do that, I just need to pop into Sweater Weather.”
“You don’t want me to drive you?”
I raised my hands in front of me. “I appreciate it. But honestly, I don’t want to mess things up again. Something clearly pissed you off last night, and I think we should just focus on keeping our professional relationship good.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, something pissed me off.”
“And I frankly don’t want to deal with that right now! I want us to work well together, okay? Every time I think we’re getting along, you go and flip a switch on me.” I sighed. “I shouldn’t have knocked. I’m going to get some Wi-Fi and text Kasey.”
He stepped through the doorway and stopped me from walking back to my apartment with a heavy hand on my shoulder. I hoped he couldn’t feel the way my skin buzzed as he touched me, even through the layers of fabric I wore.
“No, you’re not. I just need to change, but come inside and wait. Then I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.” He stepped back from the door and held it open.
I hesitated for a moment, weighing how I really didn’t want to speak to him, but I couldn’t avoid him forever.
So, I finally stepped into Jude Bramley’s house.
The same roof I was living under but a completely different space.
He led me through the door but immediately walked up a set of stairs, leaving me alone in his living room.
The brick walls were left exposed here, with touches of dark painted paneling to match the door and shutters outside.
The space was full of historical and local touches.
Exposed wooden beams, some paintings of the nearby forest, and old books about the history of the Ottawa Valley on the coffee table.
The fireplace wasn’t lit, but I could imagine how it would fill this large room with warmth, reaching even into the open kitchen—which was decorated with dark grey and butcher block.
It was so him.
Masculine, rustic, annoyingly perfect, and charming.
I almost didn’t want to sit down and disturb the space. It felt wrong to make myself at home here. So I wandered closer to the open shelving by the fireplace to keep myself busy.
There were more books, some vintage and cloth bound, others fiction that I quickly recognized. There was plenty of space left for other personal items—wood carvings, a ceramic bowl that looked like it had been handmade, and a picture of a woman with her arms wrapped around two young boys.
I ran my hand along the shelf until someone cleared their throat behind me, causing me to jump away.
Jude stared at me with a raised brow. “Let’s go deal with that car of yours.”
I followed him out the door. Of course, I wanted to finish our conversation, but Jude was nothing if not practical, and clearly there was no stopping him from dealing with this first.
The truck door was much taller than I was used to. Jude seemed to sense my hesitation from a few steps away, and before I knew it he was there, holding out his hand. I took it, glad for the help as I stepped up.
The feeling of his large hand gripping mine stayed stuck in my mind. I was just above average height and curvy, still Jude made me feel small next to him.
I tried to shake my head of thoughts of how he towered over me, and found him already opening the driver’s side door.
The truck thrummed to life, and I pressed my thighs together.
I was flustered but trying to focus, as Jude sat back, one hand on the wheel and the other on the console, dangerously close to my leg.
My body hummed with the need to ask questions. Why was he at The Crabapple last night? Why did he scare Trevor off? Why doesn’t he want me here? And now, after all that, why is he helping me?
But it was only a minute until we found my car, which looked even smaller now from the height of his truck.
“That’s it.” I nodded my head and Jude was already halfway out the door. “What are you doing?”
“Do you have the keys?”
“Yeah.” I followed him out into the crisp air.
“It’s too close to the road, I’ll push it.”
For a second, I didn’t move. I was too busy watching Jude roll his shirt sleeves up over his muscular forearms, but I quickly looked away. I jumped in the car, put it in neutral, and suddenly Jude was pushing before I could get out.
“Hey! I can help.”
No real reply, just a grunt as he pushed the vehicle backward, with me still inside. “Steer it to the right a bit.”
I obeyed, but my insides felt like they were fizzing up like a shaken cider bottle. I couldn’t help but watch Jude as he exerted himself, arms braced on the front of the car.
His corded muscles caught the sunlight as he let out a muffled groan and gave one last shove. Then he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the wayward curls from his eyes, as dappled light fell across his face.
Shit. I was mad at him. Right?
He’d made his hostility toward me clear again last night. But why did his infuriating personality have to be encased in such a perfect body?
He looked like some kind of lumberjack mixed with a movie star. It was unfair. No wonder the town fawned over him.
Jude dusted off his hands as I locked up the car, then he met me at the truck’s passenger door. Holding out a hand, not waiting for me to ask.
I shook my head to clear it; again, trying to pull myself together. My hand landed in Jude’s as I accepted his help, and the door closed behind me. A moment later, it was just the two of us, shut in this small space together.
“I’ll call up Scott—the mechanic here in town—he can tow your car to his garage and the rental company can deal with it from there.
You shouldn’t be driving that damn go-kart around here anyway.
What’s the safety rating on that thing?” He huffed in reply to his own question and rolled his eyes at my little hatchback as he started the truck.
“Now that that’s sorted…” he added gruffly, as we drove along the winding country road. “Let me explain.”