Page 6

Chapter 5

Jude

I closed the door to my bedroom and rested my forehead against it.

This was bad.

She was hurting.

I’d gotten her settled on the couch, then hustled back in here, hoping like hell she hadn’t noticed my raging hard-on.

I was trying to be a good person. She could barely move, after all. But my cock hadn’t gotten the message. Throughout the entire shower, I’d harnessed all the self-control I had, worried that if I made one wrong move, she’d run away screaming and file a restraining order.

With every swipe of the washcloth, I’d wanted to scoop her up and carry her to the safety of my bed. Then make her come over and over, make her feel so good she’d no longer even notice her injuries.

It had been more than a year, but she’d made an impression. When I closed my eyes, I could feel her in my arms. I could remember the sounds she made when she came. How she gasped when I pushed inside her.

Since she returned, those memories had played on a loop in my head. Maybe I was an asshole. She was injured; she could have been killed. But the visions were a lovely distraction from the reality of guns and drugs and criminals crawling around our town.

There was no way I’d survive her stay if I didn’t get myself under control.

I tore the towel from my waist, shucked my drenched boxer briefs, and pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.

When I had reined myself in again, I strode out to the living room, where she was still sitting on the couch, petting Ripley and speaking to her softly.

Damn, the woman had even charmed my dog.

“I got something else for you.” I picked up the bag the surprise was stashed in and turned, keeping my back to her as I removed it.

When I spun around and presented it to her with a dramatic flourish, her eyes widened, and her face lit up with a bright smile.

“Scrabble?”

That expression made my stomach clench. “I took a guess. Thought you’d like it since you’re a journalist and all.”

She kicked her feet. “I’d clap if I could. I love Scrabble.”

I sat on the other end of the couch and pulled the coffee table closer, then set the game up.

“When I was a kid, we used to have big family games. My dad always won; he was so damn smart.” Though her tone was light as she began the admission, by the end, her face was shrouded in sadness. “Sorry.” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “He passed away a few years ago, and sometimes I miss him so much.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” It was the best I could come up with. My father was an asshole at best, and a career criminal at worst.

“He was awesome,” she said. “Coached my basketball team. Took us camping and fishing every summer. Sat and did math homework with me every night.”

Silently, I held out a box of tissue.

She plucked one out, then another, and clutched them in her lap. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.”

“When did he pass?” I asked gently.

“Eight years ago. From an overdose.”

My stomach bottomed out. I had not been expecting that.

“But really, we lost him ten years before that. It’s a common story. He got injured, and when the painkillers ran out, he went looking for something more.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

She looked up at me, her cheeks tearstained. “I told you this was personal.”

Her words hung in the air between us, her eyes swimming with a pain that had clearly lingered a long time.

My heart clenched as I studied her. This woman had been through so much, and I’d thought a game of Scrabble would boost her mood? Fuck, I was an idiot.

I pulled the game box back over and snagged the lid. “We can skip the game. No big deal.”

She rested her good hand on my forearm. “No. I wanna play. Kicking your ass would really help me turn this day around.”

There it was, the spitfire energy I’d been so attracted to that night. “Okay, then. But first, we need snacks.”

“Got any Flamin’ Hot Cheetos?”

“No. But I’ve got almond meal crackers, hummus, and some decent Vermont cheddar.”

She dropped her chin, her expression unimpressed. “Good enough.”

After I’d had a second lucky break, her competitive side finally made an appearance.

“Come on, Yale. You can do better than that,” I teased.

She tapped her chin and glared at me. “You’re smarter than you look, Jude.”

I shrugged. “Not really. I got good letters. You’re the one who got the Q.”

“Query was pretty decent, if I say so myself.” She laughed.

The sound lit me up inside. This was the most carefree she’d been since she showed up on my doorstep yesterday.

“Qaid was even better, in my opinion. I seriously didn’t think it was a word.”

She smirked. “I noticed. But if scrabble.com confirms it, then I’m good. And it was pure luck that I hit that sweet triple-word score. I’m going to catch you and then bury you.”

Her eyes danced as I lined up my tiles, sending a thrill through me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun. I tried to make one ridiculous word after another, but she rejected them all. That morphed into stringing letters together, creating nonsense to make her giggle.

“I know it was awkward, but thank you for the shower.” She studied her letters, avoiding my eye. “I feel so much better.”

“No problem,” I lied through my teeth. It had been a major problem, actually. Being in such close proximity to Mila’s naked body like that had been pure torture. I think I may have permanent blue balls from that little interaction.

“I can’t believe we use the same shampoo.” She ran her good hand through her clean hair. “It’s hard to find.”

I nodded but kept my mouth shut. There was no way I’d tell her that I’d been so obsessed with the scent of honey lemon shampoo she’d left on my pillows after we hooked up that I’d driven to store after store, sniffing shampoo bottles like a fiend until I found it.

Pinning down the mystery shampoo was a strange coping mechanism after a one-night stand, I supposed. It was how I handled the utter disappointment that consumed me when she disappeared without a trace. I used it all the time, eager to relive the memories produced when I did.

Round after round, I pulled out all the stops to keep up with her prowess on the Scrabble board. We devoured an impressive amount of cheese and fought over words and spellings endlessly.

It was the most fun I’d had in months.

In the end, she beat me. I had a respectable showing, but I slyly downloaded a Scrabble game on my phone so I could practice before our next match.

After, while she brushed her teeth, I cleaned up and let Ripley out. When she returned, she arranged the pillows on the couch with her good arm, her expression still bright.

“Why don’t you just sleep in the bed?”

That stole all the light from her eyes instantly. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“You’re injured.”

“I’ll live.”

I shook my head. Damn stubborn woman. She’d let me wash her naked body today, yet she drew the line at sleeping in my bed?

After all these years, I still wasn’t good at reading people.

It was one of the reasons I enjoyed my solitude here. People were so confusing. Especially women. I always worried about saying the wrong thing or not saying enough.

For the life of me, I could not understand why she was passing up a very comfy bed, but it wasn’t worth the argument. Like last night, I’d wait until she was out cold, then I’d pick her up and take her to the bed.

I brought her a glass of water and her medicine.

“This was fun.” She popped the pills into her mouth, then washed them down easily. “Rematch tomorrow?”

“Yes.” I dipped my chin. “I will redeem myself.”

Her lips twitched. “I was rusty. I’ll double this score.”

“Sure you will, Trouble.”

Once she was settled on the couch, I let Ripley inside and turned off the exterior lights.

“Being stuck here,” I said slowly. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

She scrunched up her nose. “No. It’s nice. I adore Ripley, and you’re growing on me.”

I couldn’t help the smile spreading across my face.

“But,” she continued. “I’d give my left tit for some Doritos, or maybe a bag of Skittles.”

I shook my head. This woman wanted to kill me. With a couple of steps closer, I crossed my arms and loomed over her.

“Shame,” I said, biting my bottom lip. “The left one is my favorite.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and her jaw dropped.

We’d yet to discuss our hookup. We’d danced around it and ignored it, but she’d opened the door wide and let the topic in.

While she gaped up at me, a flush crept its way up her neck.

I held on to my cocky expression for another moment before laughter burst out of me.

At first, she reared back, bewildered. But she quickly joined in, laughing gently while holding her ribs.

“Don’t… make… me laugh.” She sucked in a shallow breath. “Ow. It hurts.”

Cringing, I reined myself in, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “Sorry.”

Once she’d gotten herself under control too, she looked up at me. “Were you messing with me, or did you mean what you said about lefty?”

I put away the Scrabble box, then padded to the hallway. Before I disappeared, I spun around. “Just messing with you,” I admitted.

She sagged in relief, which only made me want to rile her up a little more.

“The right one is my real favorite.” I spun around, grinning, when she gasped behind me. “Night, Trouble.”