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Aaron cocked his head, considering. “You got into that bar fight the night we were all celebrating the end of exams and then you disappeared off the face of the planet. What happened, dude?”
Death and loss happened, and apparently a bar fight, which was the first Jules was hearing about it. Not a muscle moved in Tad’s face—was he thinking about what might have been if he’d finished his degree, gone on to become an engineer, fulfilled all that promise his family held for him? Or was he thinking about his parents?
“College wasn’t really my thing. So what are you up to these days?” Tad’s tone was neutral but Jules knew better. She could hear the strain in it. He tightened his grip on Evan, an oddly possessive and protective move over her boy that made her light-headed.
Aaron rocked back on his heels, a little smug, steadily losing the goodwill he’d built up with that entrance and smooth opening overture. “Running my dad’s rug company out in the western suburbs. Schaumburg.”
“And you can’t get a date out there?” Tad asked, still on edge. “Need to come to the city to steal our women?”
“Tad!” Jules gave him a gentle cuff on the bare forearm cradling her son, one of those playful,Oh, don’t mind him, he’s just jokingtaps that desperate peacemakers use to keep hostilities from escalating during pissing contests. But instead of smoothing over the awkwardness, the touch electrified her body in startling awareness of Tad’s towering virility.
His arm was so much thicker than Aaron’s, and while she was sure Aaron’s forearms were adequately qualified to support her son and wrap Jules in safety, she doubted they could fulfill either of those functions quite as well as Tad’s. Why, oh, why did every man have to suffer by comparison to Bloody Tad DeLuca?
Annoyance and attraction duked it out in her chest, and she was rooting for the former to come out ahead. A million reasons to be hacked off at Tad bubbled below the surface. The jackass had kissed her in the name of protecting her. He had offered his body then whipped the rug from under her when he chickened out. Those gems, along with that knuckle-draggingour womenjibe, should have dimmed her appreciation for his forearms. They really should have.
Aaron smirked again. No, hesmiled.She needed to stop looking for faults, failing him for not being Tad. Aaron’s forearms were in no way scrawny and he clearly had a nice dental plan. So the knife-edge crease down the center of his khakis was troubling, but as long as he didn’t expect her to get too friendly with an ironing board, they’d be okay. He was a nice guy who had made himself vulnerable on an online dating site. That kind of effort should have sent Aaron soaring in her estimation.
It really should have.
“I’m long past the point where bar-hopping and drunken hook-ups are my thing,” Aaron said, making his case. “I’m well established in my career, have a nice house, and I’m ready to take the next step. Schaumburg’s a great place to raise a family.”
The dig at Tad was unmistakable. The college dropout who tended bar and used his mixology skills to mix things up with the ladies he served in more ways than one.
“Tad’s about to open his own wine bar around the corner,” Jules chirped up in her friend’s defense. “Everyone’s so proud of him.” She was proud of him.
Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Tad’s face darkened so much she worried Evan might start crying any second, but then he flicked a switch in his brain. Toggled it to good-humored Tad and smiled, first at Evan as if he was trying it on for size, then at Aaron and Jules. In those flinty DeLuca blues, she saw him draw conclusions about what Jules was looking for in a man: a provider, a good bet, a guy who wears khakis. Aaron Roberts had filled out an exhaustive dating profile and announced to the world that he was ready for a commitment. And Jules couldn’t wait forever.
Tad might want to get all up in her business but he wouldn’t fight for anything real.
Heart crushed in disappointment, she hovered on a ledge, waiting for Tad to move on and let her get on with it. The date would be a struggle now with Tad’s ghostly presence imprinted on her messed-up psyche, but she would make the best of it as she always did.
So it was with barely contained surprise that she watched Tad lower his impressive male form to a seat, settle her son in his lap like he belonged there, and take a sip of the coffee that Aaron had so kindly purchased for her.
Well.
“I’d love to catch up properly,dude,” Tad said with a fuck-you smirk of his own at Aaron. “Sit down and tell me more about the rug business in Schaumburg.”
Seventeen
“And where did you get this one?”
For what felt like the hundredth time, Tad balled his fists and suppressed the budding growl in his throat. Jules lay her soft hand on Derry’s arm, questioning the provenance of yet another of his colorful tattoos. The usually brooding mountain certainly didn’t show any signs of minding.
“Marseille. Vintage Pinot. Seven hours,” Derry said. Anyone who didn’t know him would think he was being standoffish, but Tad knew better. Coming from Derry Jones, that was practically a gush.
Jules continued to caress one of the wine labels—which looked faded and could do with a touch up, Tad thought snarkily—and gazed in awe at Derry’s ink.
“Isn’t this early for you?” Tad bit out in Derry’s direction. He didn’t usually show up for prep until 3 p.m. and that he was here at noon rang a million alarm bells.
Derry looked sardonically amused. Dude always looked sardonically amused. “Nope,” he answered, which wasn’t much of an answer at all.
Tad resented this cut into his time with Jules. For the last couple of days, once she had finished her prep and got her special on the stove or in the oven, he had been breaking out a nice bottle and completing her education. And then fantasizing about all the other things he could teach her.
A few days had passed since their conversation at the market when he had agreed with her about the crazy-cubed nature of his proposal.Bloody hell, protection sex, Tad?Said in that deadpan of hers that sounded even more mocking with that cut crystal accent. And he had laughed along with her when really he wanted to shout to the tops of the farm stands that he had never been more serious about anything in his life. He had meant every word and more. Itches would be scratched. Amazing orgasms would be achieved. Worlds would be rocked.
Worlds would be changed.
He had bailed because relationships were hard and a relationship with Jules— something real with this woman—would be his undoing and hers. But now he was starting to realize he had a bigger problem.
