Page 24 of The Surrender (Arlington Hall #2)

I can’t even look at Charley. I’m fucking fuming, and she knows it, but had she not grilled Jude, he wouldn’t have left the table, and I might be in a whole other load of messy right now.

Charley juts her lip out. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s not me you need to make it up to, Charley. It’s my boyfriend.”

“I will.”

“Good.” I take some wine, seeing Jude appearing. “He’s coming now. Shit, where’s Lloyd?”

Charley immediately stands and stops Jude before he can take his chair and asks him to go to the patio garden with her. I note Jude’s eyes have paled slightly. Not completely, but a little, just enough to tell me Charley’s safe from his wrath.

Jude motions the way as he takes his glass, frowning at his plate in front of me. “Still hungry?”

I grin like an idiot and shovel another forkful of rice into my mouth, feeling like I could burst I’ve eaten so much. Abbie snorts over her laughter. Jude frowns at her too. “Where’s Lloyd?” he asks.

“He needed to take a call,” Abbie blurts, smiling. “Won’t be long.”

Another frown from Jude as he leads Charley out the back to the patio. “God, this really is the worst dinner ever,” I say, the fork clanging against the plate when I drop it.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just got free spa days for life.” Abbie toasts the air. “Winning over here.”

Lloyd gets back to the table and shakes his head in despair as he starts cleaning the kids up. “Amelia, seriously, that man is in pieces.”

“Make me feel like total crap, why don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell him you’re now with a billionaire hotelier.”

“Lloyd?” Abbie says, winning his attention. “Shut up.”

I get up and help him with the kids to kill the time, wondering what’s being said between Jude and Charley.

“I think he’ll live,” Lloyd says, seeing my concern.

“It’s not Jude I’m worried about,” I murmur quietly, knowing one wrong word from Charley could tip him over the edge.

“It’ll be fine.” Lloyd winks in the kind of way a big brother would. “She just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t want to get hurt either, but you don’t see me being a mega bitch.” I lower to my chair when I see them come back into the restaurant, Jude holding the door open for Charley. She smiles her thanks. Short and sweet. It’s probably best.

“Okay?” I ask Jude, trying not to sound too curious. I’m a joke.

“Okay.” He takes the bill from the waiter and insists on paying. “This isn’t me trying to buy your approval, to be clear.”

Abbie laughs. “I have no objection to you buying me anything, whether approval or not.”

“Abbie,” I breathe.

“What?”

“We look forward to coming over to Arlington Hall,” Lloyd says.

“Just let me know when.”

Lloyd gives Charley excited eyes. “Maybe my mum and dad can sleep the kids. We can have a romantic weekend. When you’re in a better mood, obviously.”

“Fuck off, Lloyd Duke Chaytor.” Charley covers Elijah’s ears again as Jude covers Ena’s. She stares up at him, like, Who’s this strange man?

“Disgusting,” Jude quips, taking my hand. “It was a pleasure.”

“A true pleasure,” I mimic, smiling sarcastically at Charley. “I’ll call you.”

Jude leads me out of the restaurant. “Well, that was a date I won’t forget in a hurry.”

“What did Charley say?”

“Sorry.”

“That’s it?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Oh.”

Looking at me as we wander down the street, he pulls me into his side and kisses my forehead. “You’re staying the night.”

“Of course I am.” I smile at the pavement ahead. “I move into my new apartment this weekend. I can’t stay every night then.”

He hums. “Maybe I can stay at your place.”

I grin, thrilled. I’d love that. “It’s not as big as your place.” My phone chimes, my lip curling when I see a message from Leighton Steers.

Let me know if you change your mind. Always willing to help.

“Change your mind about what?” Jude asks, obviously close enough to see the message.

I become stiff, my head scrambling. “Nothing,” I say, brushing it off. “Some work thing.”

“Is he still sniffing around you?”

“No, I told you, it’s just some work thing.” I stuff my phone in my bag, trying not to look as anxious as I feel.

Jude stops us walking, turning into me. “Change your mind about what?”

“Jude, it’s nothing.”

“Then tell me.”

I can see the passive-aggressive-possessive beast rising. Think, think, think. “He had some inside information on the merger.”

Jude’s head tilts. “Did he want something in return for that inside information?”

I freeze, stumped. I shouldn’t be surprised Jude had Leighton Steers nailed within a few seconds of clapping eyes on him. “No, of course not. I—”

“Hey, Jude!” The gruff calling of Jude’s name reaches both our ears, sparing me the agony of explaining. Or lying through my teeth.

“Oh Jesus,” Jude breathes.

“What?”

“My brother.”

“Casey?”

“No, the other one.”

“Rhys?” I ask, seeing a man jogging across the road towards us. And there’s no mistaking who he is. He’s Jude, just a few years younger, a few inches wider, and with shorter hair. Rhys takes me in, up and down. “So is this the famous Amelia?”

“What are you doing here?” Jude asks.

“Well, when you mentioned you were having dinner with your girlfriend, I thought it would be a mighty shame to miss the opportunity to meet her.” He gives me a big, dashing smile.

“You’re supposed to be going back to Dublin tonight.”

“One more night in the Big Smoke won’t hurt.”

“Won’t it?” Jude asks. “Rhys, you could get yourself into trouble if you were locked in a cupboard alone.”

Rhys chuckles as I smile fondly at Jude in protective-big-brother mode.

“Last night I fired your publicist,” Jude goes on. “Today we hired a new one, and you booked a flight back to Dublin while Casey booked a train to Paris.”

“One more night, chill it.” Rhys muscles him out the way and homes in on me, taking the tops of my arms, scrutinising me. “Well, you’re a surprise.”

“Rhys,” Jude warns.

“What?”

“Put her down.” Jude claims me and pulls me close, putting some keys in my hand. “Go wait for me in the car, it’s just around the corner.” He scowls at Rhys. “I’ve just got to sort out my wayward littlest little brother.”

“I don’t need sorting out. Stop being such a nag. You’ve not even introduced us properly.”

Jude laughs, but it has no humour in it. More nerves. “Amelia, meet Rhys. Rhys, this is Amelia.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, head tilted. “Like?”

“You’re brilliant, gorgeous, witty, strong, resilient, smart.”

My lips twist, trying not to smile, and Jude rolls his eyes, turning to his brother. “Where are you going now?”

“Meeting someone.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know them.”

“That doesn’t ease me, Rhys,” Jude retorts, getting irritated. “Who is it?”

“A woman, alright? You don’t see me interfering in your relationships.”

“ Ship, ” Jude says. “Relation ship .”

“Will you chill the fuck out?” A surprising flash of anger passes across Rhys’s face. “You’ve been like a bear with a sore head since—”

“Shut up, Rhys,” Jude warns, moving in closer.

“Since Mum died. There you go—I said it. Finally. Are you going to punch me now?” Holding his hands out, Rhys invites the hit, and I nervously glance between the brothers, wondering if Jude will accept his offer. He certainly looks like he wants to, his jaw rolling.

Since their mum died? Not their dad? I’m confused. Jude talks with such fondness about his mother, but when it comes to his father, I see the anger he tries and fails to keep buried. But he’s only been angry since his mum died?

“Rhys.” Jude visibly takes in air, working his temper down. “There’s a supposed sex tape out there just waiting to surface and cause a PR shitstorm for you.”

I blink, surprised at Jude’s one-eighty on the topic of conversation, but Rhys is obviously wary, backing off. “You said you didn’t think it existed.”

“Is there a sex tape?”

Rhys rolls his eyes. “Yeah, there’s a sex tape.”

“Haven’t you risked your career enough?”

“Jesus, alright, Dad .”

Something switches in Jude, every drop of green falling from his eyes, his temper rising again. I step back, cautious.

But not Rhys. So much for backing off. “Look at you,” he says. “One mention of him and you become the Hulk. For fuck’s sake, Jude. He’s dead. No one can bring him back. Just like they can’t bring Mum back. Get on with your life.”

“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?”

Rhys smiles at me. I don’t know where he finds it, because I’m struggling myself. Then he comes to me and gives me a hug. “Look after him, okay? He’s not as tough as he lets on.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Jude breathes, raking a stressed hand through his hair.

“Shut up and give me a hug.” Rhys drops me and slams Jude into his chest. “I’ll be a good boy,” he says, planting a smacker of a kiss on Jude’s cheek before breaking away and leaving us, weaving through the built-up traffic as he crosses the road.

I let Jude take the keys and put me back in his side, walking us on. “You’re protective of them,” I say.

“Maybe,” he murmurs.

I hum, resting my head on his chest, listening to his heart. “Mr. Big Tough Guy.”

He laughs, poking me in my ribs in warning. “I’ll show you big when we get home. All eight inches of it.”

I laugh, but it’s light. Uneasy. I’ve seen anger on Jude about his father.

Not so much his mother. And yet Rhys likened Jude to the Hulk over his father—I get that—and a bear with a sore head since his mother passed.

Does this mean he’s only expressed anger over his father since his mother died?

More questions mount. The rage inside Jude is very real. Very destructive.

Very worrying.