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“Yeah. Your friends are cool,” I yawned.
“Tired?”
“Exhausted,” I amended, yawning again. Hanging out with the guys and getting a much-needed break had been fun, but now all I wanted to do was sleep.
He began to hum and in no time I was asleep.
I was awakened a little while later by Jude grabbing me from the truck and carrying me inside.
“I can walk. I’m heavy,” I protested, but instead of trying to pull out of his arms I snuggled closer. Why did he have to smell so delicious? And feel so good? Despite his muscular stature he was really quite cuddly.
Jude chuckled and his lips brushed against my ear. “You’re not heavy, Tate.”
My body jostled as he carried me upstairs.
He laid me down on his bed and proceeded to take my shoes, pants, and top off. He went to his dresser and grabbed one of his t-shirts. Returning to me, he unhooked my bra and slid the shirt on. He let out a satisfied growl when he stepped back to appraise me.
“My girl, in my bed, in my clothes…I think we need to make a habit of this.” His eyes grew dark with lust.
I lay down, stretching out my legs and drew the sheets over me. Snuggling against the Jude scented pillow I yawned, “Whatever you say.” I was too tired to argue with him, and his shirt was so soft anyway that I doubted he’d ever get it back. He’d have to wrestle me for it…now that had fun written all over it.
Jude stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed behind me. He pulled my body against his, and I curled around him, entwining our legs together.
Never in a million years did I imagine I’d be sleeping in Jude Brooks’ bed, but I guessed crazier stuff had happened.
???
“I’m not letting you go inside by yourself.” Jude protested when we pulled up to my house.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and let out a sigh at his protective caveman demeanor. “I’ll be fine.”
“No way,” he shook his head, dark strands of hair falling into his eyes. “I’m going in with you, or you’re not going in at all.”
So bossy.
“Fine,” I slid out of the truck.
I pulled out my house key and headed inside. My mom stood in the living room, looking out the window at nothing…of course.
Jude followed behind me and stopped when he spotted her. After a momentary pause, he resumed his pace behind me and said nothing about what he saw. I was thankful for that. I’d already told him enough that he knew how she was, but it wasn’t something I wanted to discuss. I’d only get upset…or angry.
I went into the kitchen first and there he was, sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning paper and sipping coffee. He was the picture of ease and it pissed me off. My fists clenched at my sides.
Jude grabbed my hand, unfurling it and slipping his inside. Once his fingers were wrapped around mine he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I took a deep breath and braced my shoulders before squeezing his hand lightly in acknowledgement. I was strong. I could do this. I would not let this man get the best of me.
I sat down at the table across from my father and Jude took the seat beside me. The table was round and the way we sat Jude was between us. His presence alone acted as a buffer. My dad had already expressed his dislike of Jude, but after their last encounter in my room I thought maybe he knew better than to mess with Jude.
My dad had yet to look up from the newspaper, but from the visible tightness in his shoulders I knew he was very much aware of our presence.
When more time past and he refused to acknowledge either of us, I cleared my throat. “Hello, dad.”
“Tatum.” The venom with which he said my name felt like a slap to the face. This was my dad—the man who’d read me bedtime stories and taught me to ride a bike. He looked like everyone else’s dad. Nice. Normal. Safe. But a monster lurked behind his eyes. I’d pretended not to notice it before. It was so much easier to lie to myself than to face the truth, but I couldn’t avoid it forever. I knew now, that evil didn’t lie in obvious places. It was anyone and anything. It hid behind pretty faces as much as ugly ones. It was everywhere and inescapable. “Have you come to apologize after your…episode…at the coffee shop the other day?” His tone was calm, but in his eyes I could see the anger. He flattened his hands against the table, smoothing out a wrinkle in the paper. A single brow rose on his forehead as he waited for my answer. When I refused to speak, he added, “You owe me a new suit.”
Beneath the table my hand tightened painfully around Jude’s. I wouldn’t have been surprised if my fingernails drew blood.
“I owe you nothing.” I spat—and there went my anger getting the best of me once more. I couldn’t control it, and maybe my father couldn’t either.
He brought a hand to his face, tapping his chin. Slowly, he turned to look at Jude. “I think this…young man,” he said, and I got the impression he’d very much wanted to say something else, “has been a bad influence on you, Tatie. You used to be such a sweet little girl.”
