Saving Tatum (Trace + Olivia #4) (13 page)

Chapter Thirteen

“Oh, hell to the no!” I seethed, standing on my front porch at six in the morning with two suitcases by my side. “No one told me he was coming!” I pointed an accusing finger at Jude.

Rowan rolled her eyes as Trent grabbed one of the suitcases and Jude got the other. “I knew you wouldn’t come if I told you Jude was coming too.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “This feels like a setup,” I accused her. Rowan, Trent, Jude and
me…yeah, that was a bit too cozy for my liking. I’d been the third wheel when I thought it was only the three of us, but I’d never had a problem doing things on my own before. But now…I was going to be stuck with Jude. I’d been hoping to use this time to get over my…
crush
—I cringed at the word—on him. Stuck in a house 24/7 with him was going to prove futile to my plan. I was so screwed. Unless I didn’t go. “I think I’m going to stay home.”

“Tatum, don’t make me get Trent to drag you into this car,” she warned, “you know I will.”

Judging from her serious tone and the look in her eyes, I believed her, and I knew Trent would do whatever she told him.

“Fine, I’ll go, but I won’t enjoy a minute of this
vacation
,” I spat venomously as I passed her on my way to the car. Staring up at Jude, I warned, “Don’t try anything.”

He chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll try, but no promises.”

Great.

Jude opened one of the back passenger doors and waved a hand for me to get inside. With a bunch of grumbling, I finally did. I heard him laugh as the door closed and jogged around to the other side, sitting so close to me that our knees grazed.

The car we were in was some kind of fancy SUV that I knew didn’t belong to Trent or Row. I figured Trent had borrowed it from his mom, since neither of their cars were made for long distance traveling.

I hated that our
spring break was so early, in April, so the weather was always cool. I really hoped it would be much warmer at the beach, but on the east coast you never knew.

Jude tapped his fingers along his jean-cla
d thigh to the beat of the song playing on the radio. I let out a sigh and turned to look out the window.

It was going to be a long drive.



“
This
is your beach house,” I gasped when we pulled up to the gate blocking the entrance. It wasn’t huge, but it certainly wasn’t small either. I’d been picturing a cottage. This looked like something you’d see in the movies. The siding was navy blue, with white shutters, a deck, and stairs leading up to the dark wood door. The gate swung open and Trent drove through, pushing a button to open the garage door—which he didn’t park in because there were two dune buggies and two jet skis.

“Yeaaaah!” Jude clapped his hands, “This is going to be awesome!”

We eased from the car and got our luggage from the trunk.

Jude took one of my suitcases and started wheeling it away before I could protest. I got the other, following behind him.

Trent passed us, pulling a key out of his pocket to unlock the door in the garage that led into the house.

I gasped again when I saw the interior.
Everything was done in pale yellows and whites, with pops of blue here and there. It didn’t sound like it would work together, but it did.

“Welcome home,” Trent grinned, tossing his keys on the marble countertop in the kitchen. Everything was so sparkly, shiny, and new.

“This is beautiful,” I told him, looking around in awe. Before Graham’s passing, we’d vacationed twice a year but we’d never stayed anywhere this nice.

“Come on
guys, I’ll show you your room.” Trent took my suitcase from my hand, starting up the steps.

“Wait,” I shook my head, stunned, “I notice you said
room
not room
s
.”

“There’s two beds,” he winked, jogging up with my suitcase like it weighed nothing.

“Rowan!” I screamed at the top of my lungs when she came into the room. “I hate you!” I stomped up the steps, Jude following behind as he laughed hysterically. I was pissed. Actually, I was beyond pissed. I was whatever came after pissed…livid maybe? I was too mad to even think of the right word.

Trent opened a door and motioned me inside.

Sure enough, there were two queen-sized beds, so at least there was that. But it didn’t make up for the fact that I was sharing a room with Jude. I couldn’t escape him.

“Please, tell me you’re messing with me?” I begged Trent.

He shook his head. “Sorry, Tate. This is all there is right now. There’s another bedroom, but it’s used as an office. Trace and I shared this room growing up.”

I let out a heavy sigh. This was okay. I was okay. I was strong, I could make it through this week. I nodded my head and Trent left with an apologetic shake of his head.

I sat on the bed closest to the window, claiming it as my own. I drew my knees up and rested my head on top.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jude remove his beanie and toss it on the
other bed. He ruffled his brown hair and turned to look at me. I couldn’t read his expression to know whether he was happy about our sleeping arrangements or not.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,”
he told me.

While that would certainly make me feel better, I didn’t want Jude to be uncomfortable for the whole vacation. After all, this was his break too, and I wasn’t
that
mean of a person.

“No,” I shook my head, and his eyes widened in surprise, “that would be silly.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but the sight of the comfy bed deterred him. He jumped on the one beside me and bounced up and down a few times before settling. “Hey, roomie,” he grinned. “I don’t sleep with any clothes on, in case you were wondering,” he waggled his brows.

And now I regretted my decision not to let him sleep on the couch. This was going to be the longest week of my life.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave my boxers on to shield your sensitive eyes,” he continued, his lips turned up in a wry smile.

“You better,” I groaned, rolling onto my back and crooking my arm over my eyes.

I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, worried over my decision to leave my mom alone for a week, and hadn’t slept in the car. So I was exhausted.

“Tired?” Jude asked, no doubt catching my eyes threatening to drift closed.

“Mhmm,” I hummed, counting sheep—it was something I’d always done since I was a child before I went to sleep.

“Me too,” he yawned.



We got up an hour later and ate a late lunch. Everyone wanted to head to the beach, and I cringed at the thought of Jude checking me out in my bikini.

I changed in the bathroom connected to the room we shared. I knew he was just on the other side of the door changing too and for some reason that thought made my heart speed up.

I adjusted the straps of my white bikini with yellow daisies on it to make sure nothing came popping out. The last thing I wanted was to give Jude or
any of the other beachgoers a show.

Thankfully, I’d been smart enough to bring a pullover with me so I wouldn’t be completely exposed. Only, I’d left it in the other room…where Jude was…which meant he’d watch me walk out of here all awkward-like as I tried to hide my body from him. It wasn’t that I was shy or had body image issues, I just didn’t like being stared at.

To stall for time, I braided my hair to the side, letting it hang down. I added a bit of waterproof mascara to my lashes and pale pink gloss to my lips.

I sighed, knowing I couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever.

I knocked on the door before I opened it. I didn’t want to get an eyeful.

“I’m decent,” Jude chuckled. “Took you long enough,” he
grumbled, reclining on the bed. His eyes instantly widened, zeroing in on my chest and then to the soft swell of my hips. I held my head high and willed my cheeks not to flush.

“Yeah, well, I’m a girl. W
ith as many as you’ve been with you should know it takes us a while to get ready,” I retorted.

“Not that long,” he winked, tossing his beanie up and then catching it.

“Oh, ew!” I wrinkled my nose once I got his meaning.

I opened my suitcase and searched through it for the heather gray pullover I wanted. It was more like a sweatshirt, but I thought I would need it.

When I turned around from putting on the sweatshirt, it was obvious Jude had been looking at my butt. I narrowed my eyes and he chuckled in response. He wasn’t at all ashamed at having been caught.

“You ready?” He asked.

“Hold on,” I held up a finger as I gathered more stuff in my beach bag. I pulled a pair of shorts out of my suitcase and put those on as well. They didn’t cover that much skin, but they did cover more than the bikini bottoms and I didn’t like the way Jude was looking at my long legs…like he wanted to lick them or something.

Sliding sunglasses on top of my head, I slung my bag over my shoulder and said, “Now I’m ready.”

Jude slid lithely off the bed and stretched his arms above his head. He tapped the top of the doorway on our way out.

Trent and Row were already waiting downstairs, by the backdoor. Trent had his arms wrapped around her from behind, and whispered something in her ear, which made her giggle.

She looked up, her cheeks flushed with warmth and smiled when she saw us.

“Y’all ready?” Trent asked, then nibbled on her earlobe. She giggled and pulled away. Rowan might’ve been madly in love with Trent, but she still struggled with public displays of affection
. I had to admit that she was much better now than she had been a year ago.

We nodded and Trent opened the door.

I don’t know how it had escaped my notice, maybe because I’d been too busy gawking at everything else, but the beach was literally right outside. Yeah, it was a ‘beach house’ but I’d still thought we’d have to walk a few blocks to get there. Oh, no. It was right there. I ran outside like a crazy person, kicking off my flip-flops and twirling in the sand. My bag dropped somewhere behind me but I didn’t care. I was on the beach!

I heard them laughing
at my display.

I was letting loose and I was determined to have fun on this trip, even if I had a roommate. I wasn’t paying attention and let out a squeal when my feet were swept out from under me. At first I thought I was falling, but then my stomach hit against a muscular shoulder. Jude’s familiar scent swam around me as he ran towards the ocean.

“Jude!” I screamed, laughing despite myself. “Put me down! It’s going to be freezing and I have my clothes on!” My protests didn’t matter, we both went in the water. A wave swelled around us, knocking him off his feet.

We went under and the icy water shocked me. I came up sputtering, wiping my eyes. I slapped at his hard chest, which was on full display in his drenched white shirt. Getting a good look at him, I swallowed thickly. I itched to reach out and touch his abs, but I clenched my hands together so I could do no such thing.

We stood staring at each other, drenched in water, panting—and it wasn’t from lack of oxygen. The air was thick with sexual tension. It was like a palpable thing between us, wrapping around us with snaky tendrils drawing us closer.

I don’t know who moved first, and it didn’t matter.

Suddenly his arms were wrapped around me, one holding my body and the other on the nape of my neck. Our lips collided together and I wanted to sigh in relief. I hated him. I wanted him. I cursed him. I craved him. We were like fire and water—two opposites that should never come together, but somehow when we collided it was perfect. His mouth moved over mine with the skill of an artists’ hand on a canvas. I breathed him in, savoring this moment. With each gentle press of his lips against mine my resolve to avoid him crumbled. There was no staying away from Jude. I could run, hide, and deny my feelings for as long as I wanted, but they weren’t going anywhere. I needed to get Jude out of my system. At least that’s what I told myself as I kissed him deeply, fisting his wet shirt in my hands. I couldn’t hate him anymore, not after seeing the real, genuine Jude. The fact of the matter was I let go of my hatred when I’d seen what a remarkable person he was and I couldn’t stay away. I’d always been a fighter, and I’d been fighting my thoughts and feelings for weeks now. There was a part of me that still fought hard to hate him, to
blame
him, because that was easy, but it wasn’t working anymore. I saw now that no one was to blame. Not really anyway. But humans long to find fault in someone else. It’s so much easier to hold onto pain, to despise someone, than it is to let go and choose to be happy. I was letting go of my pain, letting it fly away like a balloon I’d once released from my grasp as a child. I’d watched it fly higher and higher, crying at first at the loss, but then marveling at its beauty as it spun through the air, travelling to lands unknown. The balloon was my pain leaving, but it also symbolized me. Free. Floating. Discovering a life I’d never bothered to imagine. One with love and happiness.

“Don’t break my heart,” I breathed when he pulled away, nipping my lower lip.