Crush (10 page)

“Okay, Dad. Thanks, that means a lot to me,” I said.

“Well, you mean a lot to me, Lucy in the Sky.”

When I stepped out of the shower, I peeked out the bathroom window. The last party stragglers were gone. Today had been one hell of a day, and I knew that tomorrow would be, too. So tonight I wanted to forget about everything running around in my mind and get some sleep. I needed to close the door on this day and open a new one in the morning.

I’d left all the lights in the pool house off in hopes Jude would be too drunk or too tired to come looking for me. Of course, I knew that was wishful thinking. I knew he’d come. I just hoped that when he did, he would give me the space I’d tell him I needed. Jude wasn’t the biggest fan of “space,” given our past experience with it.

I was getting a cup from the cupboard when the knock sounded on the pool house door.

“Luce? Are you in there?” His voice was high pitched.

Before I had a chance to respond, the door opened and he stepped inside.

His face was as worried-looking as his voice had sounded. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said, taking a few more steps inside. “What are you doing out here?”

Hiding from you. Trying to get my thoughts together.
“About to go to sleep,” I answered, setting the glass down. Water had sounded good until Jude had arrived. Now the only thing that sounded good was him. Especially with the way he was looking at me.

“You’re hiding from me,” he stated, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“No,” I said, cinching the tie of my bathrobe tighter. “I’m hiding from that place.”

Jude’s jaw tightened. “That place is our home, Luce. It’s mine and yours.”

“No, Jude. That place belongs to you and the person you want me to be. Not the person I really am.”

Tapping the wall with his fist, he walked toward me. “Fine. That’s not the place that you want, we’ll get rid of it,” he said, staring at me like I was his whole world. He knew I melted under that look. It had been days,
weeks
, and he was using my failing restraint to his advantage.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a slow breath to calm myself down. I could already feel the blood rushing to certain parts of my body at having him alone and this close. I could not, I
would
not sleep with him until I’d worked through this crap in my head.

“Tell me what you want, Luce,” he said, stopping a few feet in front of me. I could smell him; I could almost taste him on my lips. I could nearly feel him. . . .

I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed. “I don’t know,” I admitted, sensing him stepping closer.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, and now his body pressed into mine.

Dammit. My weakening resolve was officially about to be a lost cause.

Then his mouth moved outside my ear, and the heat of his breath broke across my neck. “What,” he whispered, “do you”—his teeth sank into my earlobe—“want?” His hips flexed into me, and when I felt him hard against me, that last bit of restraint I’d been clinging to slipped right through my fingers.

I opened my eyes. Now that I’d jumped, I was going to enjoy the fall.

I waited until he looked into my eyes. “I want you,” I said, my fingers moving for his zipper. I was long past the point of foreplay. “Here. Now.” Sliding his zipper down, I rested my mouth outside his ear. “And hard.”

Jude sucked in a sharp breath, but that was all the surprise he allowed himself. His hands made quick work of untying my robe. Grabbing my hips, he hoisted me up and carried me over to the table. His mouth found mine and he kissed me like he’d never kissed me before. It was desperate, and hungry, and almost painful.

But the pain felt good. I needed to feel it right now.

After unfastening the button of his pants, I tugged them down. Grabbing him in my hand, I lay back on the table. Jude stared down at me, his face a mix of emotions. My mind, for the first time since this afternoon, was clear. And content.

As I guided him toward me, he paused. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he said, his breath strained.

“Come and find out,” I replied, wrapping my legs around his waist to draw him closer.

His face creased as my hand moved up and down him, but he restrained himself.

“Jude,” I whispered, “please.” I lifted my hips until I could feel him right where he should be.

Moving just barely inside, he groaned. I groaned louder. The torture was insane, and if he was going to play it nice and slow, I’d just have to change his mind. Nice and slow wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

At the same time I tightened my legs around him, I flexed my hips higher, effectively taking the rest of him inside me.

“Oh, God.” I sighed, feeling like I could come now that he was all the way inside me. When his hips flexed, I almost did.

“Shit, Luce,” he said, breathing heavily outside my ear. “You really were ready.”

Performing that hip swivel thing that drove him up the wall, I moved his hand from my hip until it was covering my breast. “Then what are you waiting for?”

His hands squeezed both my hip and my breast, and then he started moving his hips more. I’d wanted hard, and that was what I got.

Each time he thrust into me I was sure I was going to come, but I didn’t. This time I was the one waiting for him. The table started wobbling beneath me as he picked up his pace. My fingers drilled into his back; all I could do was hang on and enjoy the way he was making me feel.

I heard every low growl when he slid inside, along with every tortured groan when he slid out. “Come, baby,” he breathed, rocking into me faster. “I want to feel you come.”

His hand slid from my hip down lower, until his thumb was circling over my clit.

I knew I was close, but my orgasm came the next instant. Jude’s body touching me both inside and outside in every way sent me right over the big O edge so powerfully, I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside. I shouted his name, feeling my muscles contract around him as he slammed into me a final time. He sighed my name so many times I lost count, before collapsing on top of me.

NINE

I
could still smell Jude on my pillow, but his head wasn’t sharing it with mine like it had all night. Well, all night
after
our makeup tabletop sexcapade.

But he was close. His off-key singing to the song playing on the radio was a dead giveaway. As I rolled over, a smile was already in place.

When my eyes landed on a backside, a
bare
backside, manning the coffee machine, my smile stretched wider.

“Have I mentioned lately what a fine ass you have?” I said, propping up onto my elbows, because if Jude’s bare backside was on display for my ogling pleasure, I was going to enjoy the view.

He smirked at me as he poured coffee into a cup. “Only last night, when you were grabbing it while you screamed my name.”

“My. Someone woke up on the cocky side of the bed this morning.” I was tempted to check my phone for the time, but that would have meant looking away. The time could wait; a naked Jude making coffee couldn’t.

“I wake up on that side of the bed every morning, Luce,” he said, turning around.

Like the bad girl I was, my eyes zeroed in on a certain spot. “Yes, you most certainly do.” My smile could not possibly stretch further without hurting.

“Good morning,” he said, holding out the cup of coffee while I continued with my staring contest.

“Yes, it is,” I replied, sitting up.

“Okay, Luce, you gotta stop looking at me like that or else I’m going to be late to practice.” He waited until my gaze shifted to his before he handed me the coffee. That was probably for the best. Gawking women and steaming cups of liquid don’t go together well.

“If you don’t want me looking at you like that, you should have put some clothes on.” I raised an eyebrow at him as I took a sip. “Thanks for the coffee. Very domestic of you.”

Snatching his discarded boxers from last night, he hiked them into position before scooting next to me. “I like waiting on you hand and foot,” he said, his eyes traveling down my body. “And everywhere in between.”

I sighed into my cup. “Here’s a pointer. If you don’t want to be late to practice, you shouldn’t say those kinds of things either.”

His eyes cleared and returned to mine almost immediately. How he could go from dripping sex one moment to all business the next, I didn’t know, but it was something that I doubted I’d ever be able to master. “You didn’t exactly give me a chance to tell you last night, since you were busy ravaging me on that table that has now officially become my favorite piece of furniture”—he studied the table as a slow smile formed—“but I’m sorry for everything yesterday, Luce. I wanted the whole day to be perfect and it couldn’t have gone more wrong.”

No, it couldn’t have. Well, at least up until the night.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, too,” I said, so familiar with the words I could have been a certified expert by now. In the history of our relationship, “I’m sorry,” “Forgive me,” and “I messed up” came almost as frequently as “I love you.”

“If you don’t like the house, that’s fine. We’ll find another one,” he said, draping an arm over my shoulders. “I want you to be happy, Luce, and I never would have picked this place out if I thought it was going to upset you.”

I sighed in relief. Yesterday we’d battled this conversation out. Today we could talk about it calmly and constructively. Maybe this was how we needed to approach these kinds of land mines in the future: naked and in bed.

“I know that, Jude. It just took me by surprise. Everything’s coming at me so fast, and sometimes I feel like I don’t have a chance to catch my breath.” I paused to take another drink. “You know?”

“Believe me, I know,” he replied with a nod. “You don’t need to explain it to me, Luce. I get it, and I’m sorry I made this whole thing harder on you. I’ll call my real estate agent this afternoon and have him start looking for a different place. Okay?” He pulled me closer, tucking my head beneath his jaw.

“Will this real estate agent be looking at three-bedroom, two-bathroom houses?” I started telling myself to stay calm, so when and if this took a turn for the heated, I could better manage it.

Jude groaned, but it wasn’t his full-fledged one, like he was also trying to catch himself before either of our tempers could escalate. “You realize how much money I’m making this year? Right, Luce? And how much I’ll be making from now—”

“I know. I know,” I said, biting my tongue so my next comments stayed inside. “But how does that change who you are? And who I am? And what we want?” Those were, at the core of it all, the questions I needed answered.

“It doesn’t change me, or you, or what we want at all, Luce,” he said calmly. “All it changes is our style of life. And how many sweet rides we have in our five-car garage.”

I set my coffee down on the nightstand. He wasn’t getting it, or I wasn’t being clear. I didn’t want more cars than I had fingers. I didn’t want more garages than I had hairs on my head. I wanted Jude. And a roof above us, along with a reliable car and food in the cupboards would be nice.

“I don’t want to change our style of life,” I said. “I thought our current style of life was pretty great.”

“It is pretty great, Luce. It’s pretty fucking great,” he said, keeping me close. This was the way to have a tough talk, held tightly against him. “But it could be that much better. All those times I wanted to go to the jewelry store and buy you the biggest, sparkliest damn thing I could, all those times I wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant and order the most expensive thing on the menu just because I wanted you to have the best. All those winters I wanted to get you an SUV that would laugh at winter driving.” He paused and leaned his head into the headboard. “I’m sick of not being able to get you the things you deserve.”

What he was saying was tugging on my heart, but it did nothing to alleviate the tension that built whenever he started talking about money. “I know you are, baby. I know you are,” I said. “But the thing is, all these years you think you’ve been giving me second-best—”

“More like fourth-best,” he muttered.

“Well, then, I must be a fourth-best kind of girl, because I’ve never felt cheated or that I was missing out.”

We were quiet for a moment, although our thoughts were so loud it wasn’t exactly silent.

“Luce? What is it about money that makes you so uncomfortable?”

Shit. He might as well have just laid me back out on that table, for how naked and vulnerable I felt with that question in the open. Jude had this uncanny ability to cut through the bullshit and see what was at the heart of what I was trying to hide. Some days I loved this gift of his. Some days I hated it.

I wasn’t sure what kind of day it was yet.

I inhaled and exhaled, shoving the half-truths I was hiding behind me, trying to get to what was really bothering me. Now I was ready to say what felt like was close to the heart of it. “I come from a place where I know what it’s like to have so much money in the bank you didn’t even realize you could worry about something like money,” I began, twisting in his arms so I could curl closer. “And I come from a place where I know what it’s like to have so little in the bank you’re not sure if you’ll have a house to call your home the next month. I know the highs and the lows. Money can’t make you happy. I don’t want to pretend it can, or will.”

“Luce, I know that,” he interrupted. “I know it can’t make you happy if you weren’t already. But you and me, we’ve created something so damn great before all this that it can only get greater with a little cha-ching in the bank.”

“No,” I said abruptly. “See? That’s it. I don’t want my life-contentedness meter to be tied to something like money. In any way. I want them separate.” I lifted one hand, extending it to the right. “Here’s Lucy and the roller coaster that is my emotions.” Jude was smart enough to keep from smiling his acknowledgment. “And here’s money,” I said, lifting my other hand and holding it off to the far left. “I don’t want them to ever be connected. Ever.”

“Ever? Or never, ever?” Now he was smiling. “Because there’s a difference.”

I elbowed him before answering. “Never, ever,
ever
.”

He contemplated that for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I think I can manage that.” He sounded as sincere as he looked.

“Yeah?”

Grabbing my outstretched hands, he kissed each one. “Yeah.”

Who would have guessed a round of wild tabletop sex and a night of sleep could pave the way for a productive conversation over something we’d been screaming about yesterday?

Oh, yeah. Men guessed that. From the time of the caveman, when tabletops were nothing more than flat boulders. It was time I, as a woman, figured that out and started using it to my advantage.

“Do you need anything else?” He kissed my forehead before rolling out of bed. “If I don’t leave in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to be late to practice.”

“I need . . .
something
,” I answered, throwing the sheet to the side, “but it sounds like you’ve got places to be.”

Jude’s eyes stayed on my face, but I could tell it was killing him to do so. “You’re cruel, Luce. You know that?”

“Mm-hmm,” I said, rolling onto my side to give him a better view. I smiled when his gaze drifted for the shortest second.

Slapping his cheeks, he spun around and grabbed his jeans. “Why don’t you go shopping or something while I’m at practice?” he said, pulling his wallet out. “There’s a shitload of stores around that would be eager to cater to the soon-to-be wife of an NFL quarterback.” Sliding that black shiny card free, he held it out.

I pulled the sheet back over me.

He scowled.

“Were you here for the conversation we just had?” I asked, glaring at the black card.

His scowl went another shade darker before it ironed out. “Yeah, I was.” Putting the card back into his wallet, he stood there, looking helpless.

I didn’t want him to feel this way. I knew Jude wanted to take care of me; that was at the forefront of his mind with everything he did. I just didn’t need or want to be taken care of with a shiny black card.

“Do you think I could borrow your truck?” I asked, hoping this would ease his need-to-do-something-for-Lucy-itis. “I was thinking about going to the beach and vegging all day long.”

“Of course,” he said, digging into his pocket again. As predicted, he looked relieved to be able to do something for me that I was willing to go along with. “It’s got a full tank, so take that baby for a spin.” He held out the keys to his new truck. They were shiny, too.

Everything was so damn shiny now. I never thought I’d be so anti-shine.

“Come on, I couldn’t see over the steering wheel of that thing, Jude,” I said, winking to make the blow easier. “That is, if I was actually able to climb into it without your help. I’d need a step stool or a ladder.”

“Do you want me to call you a driver or something?” he asked, and then his face lit up. “Or why don’t you go buy yourself that new sports car I’ve been wanting to get you. This way you can pick out your own color.”

I raised my hand and bit my tongue. “Thank you. On all offers,” I said, “but I was thinking I could just take your old rust bucket.”

Jude’s forehead wrinkled.

“Then if I’m snoozing on the beach all day, I won’t have to worry about some punk-ass kids ripping your brand-new truck off.” This was partially the reason I wanted to take the old truck, but certainly not the main reason.

A flash of annoyance lined his face, but it passed. “The keys are in the ignition,” he said, sliding into his jeans. “And I just changed the oil and gave it a tune-up, so you shouldn’t have any problems with the old piecer.”

I glared at the shirt he was reaching for. I knew clothes were the requirement, but they should have been the exception in Jude Ryder’s case.

“Oil change? Tune-up?” I said as he pulled the shirt over his head. “Is this the truck you were adamant about scrapping yesterday?”

He rolled his eyes as he slid into his Cons. At least those were the same ratty old ones I was used to. “You are busting my balls, woman.”

“I’m your soon-to-be wife,” I said. “That’s in the job description.”

He froze mid–fly buttoning. “Soon-to-be?” he repeated, his eyes flashing.

Uh-oh. Not as in tomorrow or next week. “As soon-to-be as I am capable of it,” I said, my heart fluttering a little from the way he was looking at me. With one look, Jude was able to melt every muscle right before they tightened in anticipation.

Jude beamed. “I’ll take it,” he said, and now, instead of up, his fly was going the opposite direction.

My pulse was already quickening. “What are you doing?”

Crossing the room, he leaped onto the bed. “I’m gonna be late,” he said, before his mouth and body covered mine.

If there was one thing I could get used to in Southern California? The beaches and the sun. A good eight hours had ticked off when I’d done nothing more physical than turning from one side to the other. That, and unscrewing the lid from my bottle of water.

I could see myself here.

Now, if South Cali was only known as one of the premier dance places in the world, I would have been golden. The sun was starting to fall in the sky, but there was at least another good hour of UV rays to soak up, and I didn’t want to miss out thanks to a severe case of hunger pangs.

To sway the leave-or-stay vote, my stomach rumbled again.

“Fine,” I grumbled, making a mental note that the next time I came to the beach, I’d need to bring more than a granola bar.

Before I could start packing up my beach-day essentials, my phone chimed. I grabbed it and read the text.
ALL THE GUYS WERE ASKING ME WHY I HAD THIS STUPID GRIN ON MY FACE ALL DAY.
Followed by a smiley face.
I BLAMED YOU.

I’LL GLADLY TAKE THE BLAME FOR THAT STUPID SMILE
, I typed, wearing my own stupid grin as a few memories jumped to mind.
HOPE YOU DON’T MIND WEARING ANOTHER ONE TOMORROW.
Followed by a winky face.

His reply was instant.
HELL, NO
.

I laughed and, before I could type a response, my phone beeped again.
WHERE ARE YOU? NEVER TOO EARLY TO START WORKING ON MAKING THAT STUPID SMILE AGAIN.