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‘So, is that what I was?’ Jude asked, after a moment. ‘Just another new experience?’
No. He’d been the experience. The one she judged every other moment of her life against. And all too often found them lacking.
No other man had ever lived up to four weeks with Jude. And yes, she’d had regrets, had imagined what could have been.
And he couldn’t know that. Because regrets didn’t change anything. The only way she knew how to move was forward.
Rosa gave an apologetic shrug, and Jude dropped her hand.
‘So, does every experience have to be new?’ He’d gone back to staring at the sea again now, and Rosa’s heart had started to settle back down to a normal rhythm. Maybe that was why she didn’t think carefully enough about her response. As usual.
‘Some are worth experiencing twice,’ she admitted, her words coming out soft and husky.
Jude’s gaze snapped back to hers, and she saw the lust there. The want. The need.
And the worst thing was she was almost sure her eyes were reflecting the same feelings right back at him.
Rosa leapt to her feet. ‘Right! We should get back to work.’
‘Work.’ Jude shook his head. ‘Sure.’
She’d given him the answers he wanted, and now he owed her his help with this damn wedding.
And if Rosa wished she could have told him the truth?
She’d get over it. She’d move on.
She always did.
* * *
Jude stared at the room full of boxes, all with comprehensive shipping labels stuck on them.
Somehow, the resolution he’d made to be all business with Rosa was coming back to bite him. He’d almost rather live through that soul-crushing conversation with Rosa on the beach all over again than sort through fifty boxes of wedding decorations and accessories.
But only almost. He wasn’t sure he could take hearing Rosa tell him how he was just one more experience again.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known she was a free spirit back then—it was one of the things he liked most about her, the way she surged forward after her own life, not caring about schedules or plans or what other people thought.
She was the way he’d always thought he was, until he realised how much of his life was organised by other people.
Music—that was supposed to be the ultimate freedom, wasn’t it? Creating something from nothing, something from inside the soul, something that touched millions of others. It was supposed to be his escape—from a town with no work, a father who told him he was a waste of space and a school that told him he had no future. He and Gareth had dreamed of the day they’d prove them all wrong—and they’d never doubted they could do it, together.
Music was their thing. The one thing in the world that no one could take away from them. But then the world, and addiction, had taken Gareth away from him. Maybe that was why he felt sometimes as if it wasn’t his at all, any more.
That was why he’d come to La Isla Marina—to find his freedom again. The fact that he’d found the one person chaining him to his memories of the past was beside the point.
Jude knew it all came down to what happened with Gareth. It was all tangled together in his head—the promise he’d made, and broken. If Rosa hadn’t been there, he’d have seen the signs sooner. He’d have been at whichever party it was when Gareth decided just one more hit wouldn’t hurt. He’d have noticed one becoming two becoming every night again.
Gareth had overdosed less than a month after Rosa left, and Jude knew that if he hadn’t been so focussed on his own pain during that month he would have noticed Gareth’s. The events were all tied up together, running together like two melodies in his head, twisting together to make a new song. However much he told himself that Gareth’s addiction wasn’t his fault, wasn’t Rosa’s fault for leaving, he knew he was the only person in the world who could have stopped it.
He knew he’d always blame himself for his friend’s death, more than the drugs that had caused it. Because when Gareth had needed him, Jude had been too caught up in Rosa to even notice. He’d broken the most important promise he’d ever made—the promise he’d made in that hospital room, a year before Gareth died, that he’d be there for him. That he’d keep his friend safe.
He shook his head, and tried to focus on the task in hand. Gareth was gone. All Jude could do now was live their dream for both of them. Enjoy the success Gareth had craved, and the high life he’d looked forward to so much. Show the world that had dismissed them that they could do anything—even if the price they had to pay seemed far, far too high.
And as for Rosa... He had the closure he’d asked for, at last. He knew why she left—however much he didn’t like it.
Now he had to keep up his end of the bargain. Which apparently involved wedding decorations and accessories.
‘Did you count them yet?’ Rosa asked, clipboard in hand. ‘Anna’s notes say there should be fifty.’
‘What could Valentina possibly need for her wedding that requires fifty boxes?’ Jude asked as he started counting again. Just the sight of Rosa in her tight jeans, rolled up to show off slim ankles, and her close-fitting white T-shirt was enough to make him lose count.
‘Everything, according to these lists.’ Rosa stared at the clipboard with disgust. ‘My sister and her bloody lists.’
‘When is Anna getting back? And it’s definitely fifty, by the way.’ Jude pointed to the boxes when she looked confused.
‘Of course it is. Just like on the list.’ Rosa ticked something off, and scowled at it again. ‘Mama says she and Leo should be back this afternoon. With a full report of the catering staff that Valentina’s flying in from Barcelona.’ Perhaps her sister’s imminent return explained Rosa’s bad mood.
‘This is going to be quite the wedding, huh?’
Jude opened the first box to find string after string of fairy lights, all neatly wrapped around pieces of card. The next box revealed larger lanterns to house candles, and the one after that the candles themselves.
‘Is Valentina expecting some sort of power cut?’ he asked, motioning towards the boxes.
Rosa laughed. ‘Sort of. She wants a very traditional Spanish wedding, apparently—which means it doesn’t start until the evening and it goes on all night long. And since it’s all taking place outside...’
‘Hence the candles.’
‘Exactly.’
Rosa perched herself on the edge of the nearest box, sitting gingerly until she was certain it could take her weight. She’d pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head, and her usual heavy plait hung over her shoulder. Jude couldn’t help but watch her. What was it about her that drew his eye, even after everything? Even now he knew the risk of getting caught up in Rosa again?
She was beautiful, of course. Maybe even more beautiful than she’d been three years ago. She’d been fresher then, he supposed, but there was a new worldliness about her now that he liked.
The tension he’d noticed on the first day was still there, tight in the lines of her shoulders and her mouth, for all that she kicked her feet casually back and forth. She chewed a pencil as she stared down at her clipboard.
‘Okay, so as far as I can tell, this is what’s happening. The bridal party arrive on the Wednesday, for general wedding prep and whatever it is bridesmaids do before a wedding.’
‘Drink, mostly, I think,’ Jude said. ‘Have you never been a bridesmaid?’
Rosa looked at him as if he were crazy. ‘Aren’t they supposed to organise things and commit to being in the country on the right day and stuff? Who on earth would ask me to do that?’
‘Good point,’ he allowed. Rosa wasn’t the woman you went to for commitment. He had the heartbreak to prove it.
‘Anyway, the groom and his family and groomsmen arrive on Friday night, then the wedding is on the Saturday eve
ning, so that whole day will probably be pretty hellish with last-minute traumas. If you wanted to run, I’d suggest you do it then.’
She was watching him from under her lashes, Jude realised. Waiting to see what his reaction to the idea of leaving was.
Did that mean she wanted him to stay? What had she said last night? Some are worth experiencing twice. Well. If that wasn’t a hint...
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he said, cursing himself a little as he did so. What was he doing, promising to stay for the woman who’d been running from him for three years?
‘Want to stay and see the ex-girlfriend, huh?’ Rosa asked, and Jude realised he’d actually forgotten for a moment that staying would mean seeing Sylvie.
‘Not really.’ Especially since thinking about her still made his blood boil.
‘You said it was a bad breakup?’
‘She fabricated stories about me to sell for the stupid kiss-and-tell book about me.’ Of course, the made-up ones were easier to laugh off than the true, private ones she’d also sold. The ones where she’d talked about Gareth, and his remorse and guilt over his death. The broken promise. Those were the ones that hurt the most.
Gareth was no one’s business except his.
