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Even the house seemed to stare at me accusingly. But this was right. It had to be right. When I could talk to her without wanting to pick her up and lay her out on the dining room table like a fucking feast, I would explain why it was better this way.
I would always keep Lena safe. Even if that meant she was safe from me.
Chapter 4
Lena
I covered my face with my hands as I flipped off the bathroom light. It was probably three in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept waking up and reliving the most mortifying moment of my entire existence, when I finally went for it with Jude and he just…walked away.
It was like those movies where the girl in high school has something really embarrassing happen and you can barely watch the screen because you’re so uncomfortable for her. But it was me. I was the girl.
My stomach was in knots and went back and forth between feeling hollow and threatening to have me heave my guts up over the toilet bowl. My mind just kept replaying the feeling of him going still as if I’d electrocuted him, pulling away, and walking out of my house as if the earth hadn’t just shifted under my feet. Because I would never be the same after the kiss, that was for damn sure.
The clock on my phone confirmed it. It was nearly four in the morning. In a couple hours, Jude would be here again to give me a ride, and I was very seriously considering texting him to forget about it. At this point, I didn’t think I was going to be able to look him in the eye. But then again, if he came back, maybe things would be different? Maybe I’d done something he didn’t like and there would be an explanation.
It was the only thing keeping me from typing out a message saying I’d see if Evelyn would be willing to give me a ride instead.
The kiss itself? That part was amazing. He did kiss me back, and it wasn’t a simple, casual kiss. Jude pulled me in and held me against him like he had to do it. He took control immediately, and that wasn’t something I usually liked. But with him? Something about it made me curious. The forceful nature of his kiss made me wonder what it would be like to go further with him. I imagined it would be like standing in the eye of a storm made entirely from pleasure.
I wanted that. I wanted to explore him, and until last night, I would have said Jude wanted it too. I would have bet money on it. Hell, I would have bet Deja Brew on it.
The image of him walking away and the embarrassment that followed had me questioning everything. I couldn’t explore him if Jude didn’t actually want to kiss me. Of course, I wasn’t going to force him if he didn’t want to. I just…never imagined he’d walk away.
When I invited him inside, I imagined waking up with him, not tossing and turning, trying desperately to figure out what the hell happened. Because something changed in the middle of the kiss. Was he just being polite? Kissing me back at first? Was it just a natural male reaction to being kissed and then realizing he didn’t have any interest in kissing me?
I placed my hands on my stomach as the anxious, embarrassed nausea rose again. Damn it, I hated feeling like this. Like the only tether I had to the earth had suddenly been cut, and I was floating with no way back to the ground. That was how certain I’d been. Sure, it had been years of us dancing around each other, but it wasn’t exactly a secret.
My friends teased me, and I denied it, but we were both aware of the line of tension that always sang between us.
With it gone…
I pulled the blankets up over my head and buried my face in my pillow like it could hide me from the mortification currently binding itself to every cell in my body. No more Lena, just a creature of embarrassment.
At least for a couple more hours, hiding was okay.
The blaring of my phone jerked me back awake, and I groaned. I felt like a zombie, which made sense, given how much of the night I’d spent staring at the ceiling and letting my brain spin its wheels like a bicycle.
I needed to move. Jude would be here soon, and I needed to be ready. After last night, I wasn’t about to make him wait. It would be perfect. I would be perfect.
The instinct to make sure I looked good was twofold. If the man had suddenly decided he didn’t want me after this long, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of looking like I’d had a sleepless night. And if something had triggered him and he needed a little more encouragement, I was going to put on a show.
By all rights, November in Montana was far too late to be wearing dresses. I didn’t care. The dress felt right, and one look in the mirror told me this was a good choice.
It was fifties-style, with a skirt that poofed right below my knees, and I did my makeup to match. Winged eyes and red lips. Part of me wanted the lipstick bright enough to smear everywhere if Jude decided to ruin it.
Please, please want to ruin it and tell me last night was some kind of misunderstanding.
I had comfortable baking shoes at Deja Brew, so I wasn’t worried about the pain when I pulled out a pair of red high heels that made my legs like a supermodel’s, if I did say so myself.
By the time I heard his truck pulling into my driveway, I was feeling a lot better. The embarrassment had faded to a manageable level, and I wasn’t about to pretend it didn’t have everything to do with the confidence a killer outfit could give you.
Jude went stock-still when I opened the door, not even making it up the stairs to knock on the door. From here, I saw his gaze travel down my body, taking in the dress—visible beneath my open coat—my legs, and the high heels. The fact that I stopped him in his tracks was good enough for me. “Morning.” I put as much cheery energy into the word as I could.
“Morning.” I must have been imagining that his voice was rougher than normal. It was just the morning and nothing to do with me.
I’d hoped the outfit would break the awkward ice between us, but as soon as Jude climbed into the truck and started the engine, the same atmosphere that had filled my kitchen last night seeped in like the cold morning air.
Jude was always quiet. I think I’d met him three times before he said more than a couple of words to me. But over the years, he’d gradually become less quiet with me. This felt like the way it used to be—Jude Williams, the giant, silent Navy SEAL. Devastatingly sexy and completely unattainable.
