This pulls me up short. “You got your car detailed? For me?”
His shoulders tense like he’s been caught red-handed. “I bring Taco with me to Larkwood on the weekends. I didn’t think you’d appreciate sitting in a car that smelled like anxious cat.”
“That’s… really thoughtful of you,” I say, touched by yet another display of above-and-beyond concern for me, “but I’m not that high maintenance. I’m pretty sure my floorboard mats are more crumbs than mat at this point.”
He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “You and Henry really are perfect for each other.”
It’s like an ice cream scoop has reached in and hollowed out my stomach. “He told you?” I ask after a moment. “That he asked me out?”
Jude turns onto the main road without looking at me, but a muscle jumps in his jaw. “I encouraged him to do it.”
I’m unprepared for the sting I feel at discovering that my ill-advised crush on Jude has been completely one-sided. I was almostsure he felt the same way. But that’s kind of my track record, isn’t it? Falling for men who aren’t as interested in me as I am in them. I try not to get swallowed by embarrassment.
“He also told me you said yes,” Jude says into the silence.
His voice is neutral, but his knuckles are white on the steering wheel.Why?If he’s encouraging his best friend to ask me out, then he certainly isn’t interested in me himself—at least, not beyond basic attraction.
“I’m excited,” I say decisively. “He really took me by surprise.”
“Why should you be surprised?” Jude asks, sounding vaguely offended.
“Um, maybe because the last time I was asked out on a real date was when ‘camera phones’ were the hot new thing?”
At this, Jude gives a skeptical snort. “I find that hard to be-lieve.”
His easy dismissal of my lack of dating history registers like a compliment he didn’t intend to give, and my heart does an illegal skip. “Do I need to remind you that I live alone, in an isolated cottage, in a town with a significant geriatric population? Not exactly a hotbed for dating, unless I decide to start strolling the yacht marinas, hunting for a sugar daddy.”
“Aligning with someone who has greater means than yourself is a perfectly valid and common dating strategy.”
“For what? The Middle Ages?” I ask, unable to stop my smile.
“For anyone whose top priority is financial stability, rather than romance. I have plenty of clients who openly acknowledge it as their primary relationship aim.”
“Wait, so you’re telling me that if committed relationships weren’t your worst fear, and someone told you that they’d like to ‘align with you’ for financial gain, you’d be open to it?”
He frowns, considering. “Why not? If there were sufficient compatibility and attraction, I wouldn’t be opposed to taking care of someone that way. And I’d much prefer honesty to a charade.”
“Is it honesty you’re after, or do you just want someone to call you Daddy?” I ask, grinning over at him.
I’m definitely not imagining the brush of pink that appears on hischeekbones or the way he shifts in his seat at my joke. “Trying to pin down my kinks again, are you?”
This time, it’s my turn to flush. “That isnotwhat I was doing.” I tack on an “Ew,” just for emphasis.
He tilts his head and glances at me. “You could always just ask me to list them alphabetically.”
“Is that confirmation you have some, then?”
“Are youlookingfor confirmation?”
“No!” I cry, resisting the urge to stick my head out the window for some fresh air and to possibly get sucked out.
His responding smirk reveals the line in his cheek that’s too long to be called a dimple, but is, unfortunately, just as attractive. “Well, since you obviously spend all your time thinking about this…”
“I don’t!”
“I do.”
The tone in which he says these two simple words is so shaded in ambiguity, I want a translation app. But I’m also aware that clarity on this topic will only mean trouble. The silence between us stretches out like a path covered in warning signs.Turn back now! Don’t take the bait! Booby traps ahead!But apparently, I’m illiterate, because I run right past all of them and say in a rush, “You dowhat, exactly?”
