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“Are those her words? Or are you paraphrasing to make her sound nicer? Because truthfully, I've never heard my mom call me feisty. Bitchy, maybe. Feisty, no.”
Jude mirrored me this time, turning to face me. We both leaned against the wall, but we were facing each other inst
ead of the dance floor. His eyes were intense and bored into mine as if he could see into me, and learn my deepest, darkest secrets.
“Okay, maybe she didn't use those exact words, but your mother clearly loves you, Ember,” he says.
His smile wavered for a moment. Not because I thought he was lying, but because of something else. Something I couldn't quite place.
“I'm sure she does, But, our relationship is a bit strained, to say the least,” I say. “But enough about me. How did you and my mother meet exactly?”
“She hasn't told you?”
“No, she rarely tells me these things,” I said, swirling the champagne around in my glass. “I honestly didn't know the two of you were an item until she told me you were getting married, and that I'd need to cancel my summer plans to be here.”
“I'm sorry to ruin your plans, Ember,” he said. “Hopefully we can have a nice summer anyway.”
“You didn't answer my question,” I said, staring at his serious face.
“Oh, about how I met your mom?” he asked. “She happened to be seated next to me at a charitable event, and we hit it off.”
“Was this the one for dying kids or homeless vets?” I asked. “Because my mom goes to a lot of charitable events.”
Mostly to meet men like Jude, but I kept that part to myself.
He cracked a smile at me. “The one for childhood cancer, yes.”
“Ahh, yes, my aunt Janice works for the organization,” I said.
No wonder my mom got prime seating next to the man of the hour. Them meeting was not a coincidence, no way in hell. But, I wasn't about to tell Jude that.
“I've heard you give a lot to charity,” I say. “That you're a very philanthropic man.”
“I try,” he said, shrugging. “Especially childhood cancer. My brother died when I was ten. Leukemia. Made an impression on me.”
“Oh God, I didn't know,” I said. “I'm sorry to hear that.”
I covered my mouth, feeling like a real asshole for how flippantly I'd referred to the organization earlier. Jude shrugged, and stared down at his drink for a moment. His face looked serious and distant.
“I – I'm sorry. I should probably get back to the party,” I said, pushing away from the wall.
Jude reached out and took my hand, and the electricity in that touch was palpable. I gasped, not sure what was happening at first, my head spinning and awash in sensation. But, then he shook my hand and gave me a small smile.
“It's nice to finally meet you, Ember,” he said and sounded sincere. “I hope we can come together as a family.”
“Me too,” I managed to choke out.
He dropped my hand, but neither one of us moved for a second. It was then that I realized how close he was standing to me. His cologne surrounded me, and I inhaled the scent of him – sharp, clean and musky. If it were possible to wrap myself in that scent and fuck it, I would have because it was so damn intoxicating. Jude Calloway was everything the magazines had made him out to be, and more. So much more.
“There you are, sugar,” my mom's voice rang out, shrill and slurred.
I cringed as she wrapped her arms around Jude's waist, her body melting against his as she pulled him into her. I could have been wrong, but he seemed a little mortified by her condition. I mouthed, “She's your problem now,” to Jude and made my way to the dance floor with Talia.
“That seemed to go well,” Talia said, sidling up to me.
“Yeah, I think he's the nicest husband she's had so far,” I said.
“Even nicer than number three?” Talia asked, cackling as I rolled my eyes.
