Chapter 29
Falling In
We take turns changing in the small bathroom, and I lay our wet clothes over a kitchen chair to dry as Jude forages for food.
“We got bread, butter, and cheese, Punk. Check in the cabinet for pans.”
The kitchen light is out, so we move a lamp closer to the small efficiency stove. Jude makes us grilled cheese while surges of rain overhead create a background track for our version of a romantic candlelight dinner.
When we finish, he plays some slow bluesy music from his phone and wraps his arms around me from behind, swaying us as he speaks.
“I knew I’d never get this shirt back.” His breath puffs against my neck between words and kisses. “Do you know how hard it was to go home the nights you were wearing it?”
Subconsciously, I think I did.
“I had no intention of returning it,” I confess.
“One of your work shirts is in my room.”
“Oh, that’s where that went.” I giggle against him. “I’ll need the Martin guitar shirt and a few more if you’re going to leave me.”
His body slumps, deflating against me, and I regret my words instantly. I didn’t mean to make him feel bad.
“Please, don’t say it like that. The online class was maxed out, and a family friend invited me to his six-week intensive training that covers everything I need. It was the best way to get it all done at once. I know the timing sucks, but we’ll have weekends, and I’ll call and text every day.”
“I know you will. And I understand priorities.”
He turns me by my shoulders to look at him. “You are my priority. Have I made that clear? If you need me, I’ll find a way to get home.”
“I’m still allowed to hate it, right?”
“You’re not used to being first in anyone’s life, but that’s over. This …” He motions his hand between us. “I didn’t know how any of this was going to go with us or work or … life. I just want you.”
I claim my spot against his chest and wrap my arms around him without hesitation.
“Wow, you without a plan,” I muse aloud. “I’m glad you didn’t wait.”
He swiftly lifts me to the countertop so we’re closer to eye level, and I pull him close, hooking my legs behind his back. I’ve never been clingy, but he may regret giving me koala privileges.
“The timing would never be perfect, but you were always the plan. The details were just a bit fuzzy.”
I grin at his admission. “What’s with you and countertops?”
“They’re a means to an end.” He meets my lips again, still making up for lost time. “Shorty.”
“So … are we going to walk back to the car in the rain, or did you want to stay here?” I ask when we come up for air.
I don’t mind staying. We’ve shared a bed before. But things are different now. I think he understands which part is not going to be different.
He knows me.
Jude holds my face between his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Lucy, I’ll do whatever makes you comfortable. If we walk back to the car, fine. We’ll just get wet again.” He drops a quick kiss to my lips. “But if we stay, I have the same expectations as the last time you forced your way into my bed. Don’t take advantage of me.”
There it is.
I laugh and smack his chest, his eyes glowing with mischief.
“What about kissing?” I ask. “Can we add that amendment?”
“Oh, little girl. Get me a Sharpie.”
Jude snaps of a couple of selfies that clearly define the shift in our relationship for the group chat. We endure several minutes of finallys and GIFs of fireworks, but they eventually leave us alone.
Sam sends a selfie with Liza holding up my phone, Mom and Layla waving in the background.
Liza’s expression is pinched, like she wasn’t ready for the picture, but it’s late.
She might be disappointed I didn’t come back tonight, but Jude and I are both exhausted.
I don’t want him to drive any more today.
Ever the mature adult, he finds the extra charger in my backpack and plugs in his phone. He sets an alarm, and this ratty old sofa bed might as well be a cloud for how fast we crash.
I wake during the night curled against his back, much like the last time we shared a bed. This time, merry Christmas to me, he’s shirtless, with my arm tucked under his.
And he’s holding my hand against his chest.
His chest is a work of art, but I was woefully unprepared for how strongly I’d feel about the smooth, solid planes of his back. I’m still coming to terms with the hot businessman in a suit.
I’ve got to pace myself.
My cheek against his warm skin is everything I never thought I could have. A contented exhale escapes my lips against his back, causing him to stir with a low groan and roll over to face me.
He draws me close, kissing my head before his breaths return to the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. Settling back into my favorite dream, I feel his mouth move against my temple in a whisper so soft I’m not sure it’s real. “Lucy.”
He’s talking in his sleep, adding to my new list of favorite things. I free a hand from between us, reaching around his neck to weave my fingers through his hair, but I don’t speak. I don’t want to wake him. Another hoarse murmur sounds an awful lot like “I love you.”
I doubt he’ll remember this moment, but I’ll never forget it.
“I love you, Jude.”
Jude can’t let the sun rise without him, but he knows I prefer to wake up gradually.
In silence.
He makes himself coffee and partially opens the blinds, letting some light spill in, stirring around just enough to remind me he’s here.
As if I could forget.
A squeaky creak sounds when he climbs back onto the bed, making it dip when he stretches his legs out next to me, reclining against the back cushions.
He attempts to move unruly waves from my face as I burrow into his side to hide my sleep creases and morning breath.
His scent’s faintly different, since the tiny shower stall only had generic toiletry samples, but we’ve found everything we need, so I have no complaints.
“Hungry?” he asks softly, lifting his arm to snuggle me closer. I shake my head against him as he combs his fingers through my hair. “Do you want caffeine yet?” Again, I wordlessly decline.
He can’t be real.
Any minute I’m going to hear an obnoxious alarm and wake up from this dream.
His laugh vibrates through his T-shirt. “This is fun. You’re like a blond Magic 8 Ball.” He’s warm and solid, and I can’t think of a single reason to leave this bed. “Will I get more kisses today?” I nod slowly to be sure my answer is clear. “Yesssss,” he whispers. “This one’s important. Ready?”
I’d play along all day to keep him here so I can listen to the low hum of his voice.
“Do you still love me?” I squeeze my arm tighter around him and nod. “I had to be sure nothing changed since 3 a.m. when I definitely said it first.” He snatches my hand just before he gets pinched.
Jude drags his three-day beard across my palm before kissing the inside of my wrist. “If you don’t want to be kissed before you brush your teeth, consider this your two-minute warning.”
We got by on sandwiches and store-brand sodas and slept on a lumpy mattress with metal bars under our backs. The storm was loud enough to make us question the strength of the roof over our heads, but I couldn’t have asked for more.
Best. Night. Ever.
Too bad this isn’t a resort. I could get used to hiding in the woods, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. My win-loss record in life is less than stellar.
And I’ve never had so much to lose.
Outside the cabin, evidence of last night’s storm is everywhere. What isn’t under an inch of water is littered with soggy leaves, branches, and walnuts, so I watch my step and keep a tight grip on my emotional security human.
Jude nudges me as we reach his SUV. “You okay?”
“Perfect,” is the word that comes out of my mouth, but internally I dread our return to the real world. I’ll get less of him for the next six weeks than I’ve had for the last year.
He watches my face for a beat as he presses the unlock button. “Hang on. Let me put your backpack in the back of the truck.”
“Right. Your truck.” I smirk.
We rarely disagree, but this is one of our few points of contention. To me, this is an SUV. To him, anything that’s not a car is a truck. If this is our biggest fight, I’ll gladly let him win every time.
“Yes, truck, Punk. Come here. I’ll show you.”
I toss him a skeptical glance. I’m well acquainted with his 4Runner.
Leather seats, tinted windows, roof rack, running boards, incredible sound, and matte-black emblems and wheels—this vehicle is its own main character.
It’s a six-foot-four burnt marshmallow mountain man.
It should have a beard, full sleeve of tattoos, and wear flannel.
But it’s also soft and sweet on the inside, like someone else I know.
I might be a little bit in love with it.
Jude doesn’t worship it like some guys do, but it was his dad’s, and I know he loves it.
He opens my door and helps me climb in as usual but swivels my legs sideways, pulling me to him. The mischief in his eyes gives him away when he taps the tinted window behind him with his knuckle.
“See how the door is high enough to shield us from view?” He leans in and kisses me soundly.
Gripping his shirt with a grin, I pull him back for more kisses.
“So, it’s the height”—kiss—“that determines the difference”—kiss—“between an SUV and a truck?”—more kissing.
“Hmm?” he mumbles. “I don’t know. I just made it up so I could get the first truck kiss from my girl.”
He’s always playful, but dang. Am I allowed to be this happy? It feels like a setup.
“Truck kiss?” I repeat with my brows raised.
“From my girl. It’s a very Tennessee sort of moment. Let me enjoy it.”
“By all means. Happy to help.”
The drive back to Cookeville is deceptively uneventful—the calm before the storm. And it’s a good thing Jude can handle my storms, because my sweet baby sister is worked up to a category five—hell-bent on trying him by fire.
Mom’s at work, Jamie’s at a friend’s house, and Layla won’t get anywhere near Liza when she’s like this.
We’re on our own.
“How could you, Lucy?” Liza’s reddened blue eyes blaze as she tears into me before my behind ever hits a kitchen chair. “That video’s blowing up. I can’t believe you broke Sam’s heart … for him!” she wails, pointing at Jude with standard-edition fourteen-year-old drama.
“Good morning, Liza,” I say without giving her a reaction. “I don’t know which part of that to address first. You remember DC, right?” I tilt my head to the chilled cucumber next to me.
Jude stifles an amused grin, fully on board with not allowing her to overdramatize whatever she’s going on about. “Hey, Liza,” he says sweetly, but I do my best to stay in front of her ambush.
They’ve all met before, but it’s been a while. Layla pops her head around the corner and waves at us. When she meets my eyes behind Liza’s back, she gestures to wish the odds to be ever in my favor and slinks back to her room.
“You’re going to hear me call him Jude, but that’s as complicated as I wanted to get today. Thanks for saving me from that plan.”
“Oh, I can think of something to call you,” she bites out in Jude’s direction.
He easily disarms her attack with his undivided attention. I mentally add another item to his list of sexy superpowers. Seriously, what is this voodoo?
“Liza, I’d never hurt Sam. Tell me what video blew up.” He leans forward with rapt concern, already navigating to Sam’s social media to see what she means.
He’s going to earn all his kisses today.
She glares at him, but her eyes briefly shift to me to show her surprise. We aren’t used to being heard.
I raise my eyebrows in an attempt to convey, I know! Isn’t it the hottest thing you’ve ever seen? but I doubt she got all that from one look.
She turns her attention back to Jude. “The video he posted last night—it’s already got fifty thousand views. It hasn’t even been a whole day yet.”
I squint at her, tilting my head in confusion. She pouts like this is a bad thing.
“Didn’t Sam bring you my phone last night?” I ask as I pour Jude and me orange juice and begin cooking omelets. I don’t need to ask. I know he’s starving.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I have it.”
“Did he look upset to you?” I press.
“He seemed quiet.”
Jude sees where I’m headed and jumps in. “Did he smell like Buddy the Elf got ahold of maple syrup and hug you senseless?”
“Well, yeah,” Liza admits.
“I’m sure he’s fine. He won’t eat when he’s upset,” Jude assures her.
I, however, am running dangerously low on patience. “He was exhausted, Liza! It was a long day. And Sam doesn’t post anything. It had to be Annie.”
She considers this information and hands over my phone from the pocket of her overalls.
Jude plays the video in question on his screen, and we watch it together. Annie made an adorable montage of clips from the show, but she set it all to Sam’s original song, “Love by the Lake.”
We sound great on that one, if I do say so myself. It was the perfect choice. But that’s not the song we’re singing in most of these clips. Admittedly, the song choice makes our antics appear more flirty than they were.
Annie slowed the video clips down, and I see how it could appear romantic, but Liza knows better. She’s being ridiculous, and I am beyond tired of defending my actions.
“I think I see the problem,” Jude tells her. “People don’t realize the effect music has on our perception. Let me show you.”
He closes the app and pulls up his own video of what Sam and I were actually singing—a snarky breakup song, at least in some of it.
He plays the video for Liza at normal speed all the way to the end, when Sammy spins me around and Jude yells, “That’s my girl,” drawing my attention back to him as I bring our food to the table.
Jude shows her the moment I spot him off the side of the stage. Sam’s grinning ear to ear, pumping his fist—talking to the crowd while he watches us. Jude stops the video, studying Liza’s reaction.
“See? Changing the song and the speed made it look like they were a couple. You can text him if you want. He’s probably up.”
“I … no. He texted me with Lucy’s phone, but I didn’t get his number. Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Here.” I hand my phone back to her. “Tell him to come eat. He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
Liza doesn’t notice, but Jude texts Sam to come over and call off his bodyguard.
It’s too cute, and I’m in deep.
I graze my fingers over the back of Jude’s neck and kiss his cheek.
“Show me the rest,” I say into his ear.
A slow smile spreads over his features as he pulls me into his lap and holds the phone out for us to see.
“Y’all are disgusting,” Liza groans, but curiosity draws her attention to the rest of the video.
“Last night I saw some mean comments in there calling you and Sam names. One said you were fake and he’s singing with a cheater, but they’re gone now.
I don’t know if I read it wrong or they got deleted. ”
There it is.
The exact moment when my happy bubble bursts.