Page 27

Chapter 26

Jude

“Y ou smell good,” Mila said, resting her head on my chest. I considered pressing my lips to her crown but decided against it. We were in a strange holding pattern that included physical affection. But she’d been clear about her boundaries. And I’d been all up in my head over them.

Because Mila made me feel things and want things that were completely off-limits.

She’d fallen asleep on my chest on the couch, and holding her like that, absorbing all her anxiety and worries, had been heaven. But it was getting late.

She rubbed her eyes and straightened beside me. “How long did I nap for?”

I fought the urge to pull her back into my side. “About an hour.”

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t mind.”

We stared at one another for a moment, the air heavy between us. I wanted to touch her, kiss her, and make all her problems go away. But the last thing she needed was to be pressured. We had no idea what tomorrow would bring, so even if she wanted more, making plans was stupid.

“I’ve got to jump in the shower.” I stood and backed away.

She was still adorably sleepy, and her hair was stuck to one side of her head. “Where are you headed?”

“The Moose,” I replied. “Playing a gig.”

“Oh.” Her face fell in the strangest way, going from peaceful to annoyed in a flash.

“You okay?” I asked.

Was she hurt?

She shook her head. “Sure, I didn’t realize you had to go out.”

“Yeah, we play there about once a month. Sometimes we pick up other gigs. It’s a hobby for us all, and we have several subs on standby if someone can’t make it. But I committed to this a while ago.”

“Okay, great.” She gave me a smile, but it was forced. “I’ll feed Ripley and let her out. Go do your thing.” She avoided my eye as she headed toward the kitchen.

As I headed to the bathroom, she stomped around the kitchen, slamming cabinet doors.

Each loud noise worsened the dread in my gut. But I didn’t have time to dissect what was going on. Not right now. I’d made a commitment, and I couldn’t let the guys down.

I showered and dressed, and while I loaded my equipment into my trunk, Mila sat in the kitchen, drinking tea, staring off into space.

Part of me wanted to jump in my car and avoid the awkwardness, but guilt kept me from my cowardly escape. She was stuck here; she had no one else to talk to. I wasn’t a great talker, but at least I was someone.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, walking softly into the kitchen. “You seem upset.”

“I don’t know.” Head bowed, she worried her lower lip. “I’m mad, and I don’t know why. Ugh. I sound like a toddler.”

“Is it because I’m going out? If you don’t feel safe here—”

She waved me off. “No. It’s not that. It’s just.” With a huff, she scrunched her nose and closed her eyes. “Is it bad that I’m jealous?” She looked down into her mug, avoiding my eye.

Confusion swirled in my head. “Jealous? Of what?”

She stood and silently padded to the sink, where she rinsed out her mug and put it in the dishwasher. I followed her every move, at a loss.

Finally, she turned and leaned against the island. “You’re you,” she said, as if that explained anything, and waved her good arm, gesturing to my body. “And you’re headed out to play your guitar with your beard and your glasses and all those stupid muscles.”

A scoff escaped me. “Stupid muscles?”

Head tipped back, she groaned. “You know you’re hot, Jude. Don’t make me spell it out. I’m already humiliating myself here.”

I couldn’t hide the smile that split my face in half. She was jealous and being possessive. It sent a thrill through my body.

“I’m going to play guitar for a couple of hours, then come home. You know that, right?”

She let out a big sigh. “Yes, I know that. But there will be women everywhere, throwing themselves at you.”

Across the granite, I covered her hand with mine. “Trouble, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not a rock star playing a sold-out stadium. It’s a dive bar in rural Maine. Most of the clientele are older than my parents or grizzled loggers blowing off steam.”

“Inaccurate,” she quipped, pulling her hand away. “The Moose is not a dive.”

“Fine,” I conceded. “A fancy dive.”

“No. It’s a restaurant and bar trying to cultivate the street cred of a dive while being too clean and welcoming.”

I bit back a laugh. “Okay, now that we have established its place in the spectrum of dining establishments, can we focus on why you’re jealous? I’m sorry I’m leaving. I know you’re going stir crazy, but I made a commitment.”

She deflated. “God, you’re so annoying. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

It was times like these I was reminded that I had a lot to learn about women. Not one lick of this made sense to me.

“It’s not about leaving the house. It’s about you being all sexy Jude the Lumberjack Musician and having all these women lusting after you.”

Even as dread formed in my gut, a hint of a thrill zipped through me. Had she seriously admitted that she’d be jealous of any women who might come on to me? I circled the island and stood in front of her, tipping her chin up with my fingers.

“Trouble. No one will be throwing panties at me tonight.” I caressed her jawline, studying every facet of her beautiful, pouty face. “In fact, the only girl who has ever thrown panties at me was you.”

“I did not.” She went ramrod straight, poking a finger at my chest.

I chuckled and stepped closer, bringing my body flush with hers. “Okay, so you metaphorically threw your panties at me. Admit it, you eye fucked me so thoroughly, they probably incinerated before my set was over.”

Punctuating the comment, I grabbed her ass and squeezed.

She moaned slightly, her eyes darkening but staying locked on mine.

I did not have time to bend her over this counter, but goddamn, I wanted to.

I buried my face in her neck and inhaled her honey lemon scent. “You have nothing to worry about.”

With her good arm looped around my waist, she said, “I know we’re not exclusive or anything.” She sighed. “I could never ask that. We both want casual.”

My gut clenched. She was the one who wanted casual. Me? I wanted a lot of things. Things that I did not have the emotional bandwidth to even define. But it was a fuck of a lot more than casual.

I took a step back and rested my hands on her upper arms gently, putting some space between us. “Look at me.”

She complied, a mixture of defiance and vulnerability bleeding from her, making my heart seize up.

“I will not so much as look at another woman while you’re sleeping in my bed.” I was unlikely to ever look at another woman again, even after she was long gone, but I kept that information to myself.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes I do. Even if we hadn’t gotten physical, keeping you safe is my top priority. And I’m not some horn dog, for God’s sake. I can keep it in my pants. Even though you called me… what was it? ‘Sluttier than a pair of gray sweatpants’?”

Two red patches bloomed on her fair cheeks.

“Regardless of what you think,” I went on. “I’m not. I have no intention of looking at or talking to anyone tonight. I’ll play, hang with my brothers and sisters-in-law, have exactly one beer, and then come straight home to you.”

She nodded, her face still red, her gaze lowered.

“And when I come home,” I growled, tipping her chin up. “Then you’ll get all my attention.” Angling in, I captured her mouth in a rough kiss.

She kissed me back, cuffing the back of my neck, making sure I knew that she’d be waiting.

Her jealousy was hot. Totally unwarranted, but hot, nonetheless. As if I could even look at another woman. Mila occupied every one of my waking thoughts and a good percentage of my dreams. She didn’t know it, but I’d be counting down the minutes until I could come back home to her.