Wild, Hungry Hearts

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Wild, Hungry Hearts Page 13

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  “Not exactly.”

  “Then approximately?”

  Jude grimaced. “You know how secretive he’s been, ever since he moved to California. I asked, but Grandpa Joe and Stephen said they only have a P.O. box as an address for him.”

  “So what are we going to do? Drive around every country road in the vicinity of Columbia, searching for him?”

  “No,” Jude said emphatically, giving her a harassed glance. “I figured we’d check into a hotel in town and ask around about him. Z doesn’t exactly blend. There’ll be someone in town who knows about him, and maybe his whereabouts.”

  “Do we even know for certain that when he took off, he went directly to his place?”

  “No. But we have to look somewhere, and Columbia is our best bet. Right? He won’t return my calls or texts.”

  Esme sighed. “I guess you’re right.” A thought occurred to her, and she smiled widely. Jude noticed.

  “What?” he asked.

  “A hotel,” she murmured, grinning.

  “Yeah.” He said it so quickly and firmly, she had no doubt the thought had already occurred to him. He grabbed her hand and rested it on his jean-covered thigh, leaving his own hand on top of it. “And no one else will be around. We can act like a real couple.”

  “As opposed to what? A fake one?” she laughed, instinctively squeezing with her hand to feel the delicious sensation of his rock-hard thigh.

  He gave her a flashing glance. “You’re the one who said we had to keep things secret.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “For now. I said we should keep a lid on it for now,” Esme defended. Jude just stared at the road without comment. She sensed his stubborn disagreement on the topic. “You can’t honestly think it’d be a good idea to tell our families we’re involved, with everything else that’s going on.”

  “You act like it’d hurt them, somehow.”

  “Not hurt them. Of course not. It’d just be…”

  “What?” he asked when she faded off.

  “Another level of weirdness, okay?”

  “Weird. That’s what you think of us sleeping together?”

  “I don’t think that,” she defended hotly. She noticed his challenging glance and sighed. She moved her fingers again, testing solid male muscle. Warmth tingled in her fingertips and expanded in her lower belly.

  “In fact, I think it’s pretty much the polar opposite of weird,” she admitted cautiously.

  “Really?” he asked, his voice suddenly sounding low and interested.

  She nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the road even though she was intensely aware of him next to her. “It feels natural. When we’re together. Like it was supposed to be that way—”

  “All along.”

  Their eyes met briefly. Graphic memories of their lovemaking played like an erotic slideshow in her brain. It suddenly felt very heavy in the interior of the car, tense and…hot. He squeezed her hand, and shifted it slightly higher on his thigh.

  “It feels natural to me, too. That, and fricking fantastic,” he added quietly under his breath.

  “Thanks.” He glanced over at her, his blue eyes lambent. “For saying that, I mean.”

  “Thanks for saying it feels right. Seeing how it does feel so natural, why do you think it was? That we never got together, back then?”

  A powerful, charged memory popped into her brain: a warm summer night, strings of colorful, glowing lanterns set against a starry night sky…Jude’s back as he walked away from her, in search of Sadie. She recalled the chatter and laughter all around her, how strange the carefree sounds seemed, when inside her heart felt like it’d just broken wide open—”

  “Es?”

  “Yeah?” she asked, her voice cracking.

  “What’s wrong?”

  For a few seconds, she couldn’t respond. She just stared at the headlight-illuminated road ahead of them, her throat feeling achy. She’d be a fool to tell him the truth.

  But what choice did she have, really, unless she refused to get closer to him? Wasn’t that precisely what he’d accused her of last night? Already planning for the end of things between them, before things even really got started? All because she was afraid of getting hurt?

  Maybe it’s time to cowgirl up.

  His hand tightened on hers. She looked over at him. She wasn’t sure exactly what was on her face, but it must have been bad. He flipped the turn signal, and they were pulling onto one of the many scenic turnouts overlooking the Sierra Nevada Mountains. A feeling of dread expanded in her chest as he slowed and put the car into park just in front of a guardrail and what she knew from experience would be a spectacular view in the daytime. Presently, blackness loomed outside the front windshield.

  An abyss of the unknown.

  Jude clicked on the overhead light, casting the interior of the SUV in a soft glow. He took her hand into both of his.

  “What is it?” he asked, his eyes searching.

  For a few suspended seconds, it could have gone either way. She might have admitted the embarrassing truth to him, or she might have concocted some cover story. But maybe she was kidding herself. She found it very difficult to tell an outright lie with Jude’s electric, concerned gaze pinning her to the spot.

  “I did have a thing for you when we were kids,” she confessed, her voice sounding thick and congested. “Ever since—” Laughter popped out of her throat, a hysterical reaction, no doubt.

  “God, practically ever since I can remember, Jude.”

  The silence pulsed against her eardrums. Still, he didn’t speak. She thought she would scream from frustration. She gently pulled her hand from his clasp, twining her fingers together in her lap.

  “I finally decided I was going to tell you, that summer before my junior year. The year before you went to college. I figured it would be horrible, admitting it to you—of all people. What if you laughed, or made fun of me? I didn’t really think you would, but that fear was there, you know? But in the end, you didn’t tease me. You never even acknowledged me,” she laughed softly and shrugged. “You just walked away.”

  “Es, what the hell are you talking about?” he asked, and she heard the utter bewilderment in his deep voice.

  “It was at my parents’ twentieth anniversary party. We had it in the backyard, remember? There were lanterns strung up everywhere, and a band—”

  “I remember it,” he said, a trace or impatience in his tone, and she knew he still didn’t get what she was saying at all.

  “I’d told you like a half a dozen times before that night that I wanted to talk to you, that there was something important I wanted to say. But one thing or another kept interrupting us. On the night of that party, I’d made up my mind. I was going to do it that night, come hell or high water. I was going to take the leap. I started to tell you. But you were…distracted.” She studied his face intently, searching for clues as to what he was thinking, but he was unreadable. “You don’t remember anything about me that night, do you? All you could think about was Sadie.”

  “Sadie,” he repeated with a flat note of puzzlement, as if she’d just said something in a foreign language.

  Esme sniffed and swallowed back the tightness in her throat. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. I know you had a thing for her.”

  “How would you know something like that?”

  She gave him a bitter glance to hide the hurt. She may be admitting this particular humiliation, but she’d never tell him in a million years she’d actually seen him having sex with her sister.

  “I saw the way you looked at her all the time. If Sadie was anywhere in the vicinity, you followed her every movement with your eyes. I mean…it’s not like I blame you. Not really. She was older than me. You and she were in the same year at school. And it’s not like you two had the friendship thing holding you back, like we did. Besides…look at her. Sadie had movie star written all over since she was twelve years old.” She exhaled resignedly. “I finally cornered you that
night, but before I could get to the really crucial part, you brushed me off and went running after Sadie.”

  He abruptly cursed under his breath and clamped his eyelids shut.

  “What?” Esme asked, sitting up straighter at this unprecedented show of emotion on his part. The only problem was, she didn’t have a clue as to what the emotion was.

  “I was thinking about Sadie that night—yeah, I remember now. But it wasn’t what you were thinking, Es.”

  “You’re not going to try and tell me you weren’t interested in her. For that summer and for years afterwards—”

  Hell, I saw him looking at her with that intense expression just a few nights ago, when we were all together at the house. And there was no way he could ever deny what I witnessed with my own two eyes: Sadie and Jude’s naked, entwined bodies on those lounge chairs.

  “Interested?” He gave a rough laugh and threw up his hands. “Of course I was interested. I was a teenager, with hormones running a massacre on me 24/7, and Sadie was—well, you know what Sadie was like,” he said, sounding a little desperate. “I wasn’t friends with Sadie like I was you, but I cared about her. I cared about all you girls. But I didn’t begin to imagine that night that you were trying to tell me something so…

  “Something so big. So special,” he finished slowly, his gaze snapping up to meet hers.

  She wasn’t used to seeing Jude get so serious. But then again, she wasn’t used to sleeping with him, or confessing her inner humiliations to him, either. She wasn’t used to talking to him like a lover instead of a friend.

  “And in all fairness, Es,” Jude went on. “It wasn’t like you were ever touchy-feely with me. I talked to you like I talked to Mat. You were like one of the guys.”

  The brief moment of intimacy shattered. She made a sound of disgusted misery and turned away.

  “No, listen.” He grabbed her wrist and extricated one hand from her tight grip. He squeezed her palm and chafed her wrist with his thumb. She looked over at him reluctantly. “I’m sorry. If I’d had any idea of what you were going to say back then, I wouldn’t have been so rude. I don’t know for sure how things would have turned out, but I certainly wouldn’t have walked away if I’d guessed what you were trying to say. Jesus, you must know that. Right?”

  She wanted to believe him. So much…

  “Are you sure you’re not in love with Sadie?” she couldn’t resist asking.

  “In love with her?” he asked incredulously. She felt her heart grow about three sizes at his apparent sincerity. “I might have been attracted to her when I was a teenager, but even that wasn’t to the degree that it’d been for dozens of other girls. As for being in love with her now? Not a chance. I mean…how long do you think a teenage infatuation could last?” he scoffed, clearly finding the very idea ludicrous.

  Her previously swollen heart shrunk to the size of a raisin at that, leaving a burning sensation in her chest. What kind of idiotic person would hold onto a teenage infatuation for their whole life? No one special.

  Just stupid me.

  “And Es, you’re wrong to think I don’t remember anything about you from that night of the party,” he said, the husky warmth of his tone drawing her out of her suffering for a moment. She met his stare warily.

  “You wore this purple dress that left your shoulders and back bare. You were already tanned from hanging out at the beach. Your skin glowed. It was so smooth looking. So touchable,” he mused, his blue eyes going smoky at the memory. Her breathing stopped as she hung on his every word. He gave a little grin.

  “I remember the entry hall at your house was filled with mountains of flowers that your mom and dad had gotten for their anniversary. You’d taken this white orchid that had been tinted with gold and put it behind your ear.” He reached out and ran his fingers along some strands of her loose hair. She shivered uncontrollably at the contact.

  “I remember thinking the strands of your hair shone brighter,” he said gruffly.

  She gasped softly in disbelief, left speechless at Jude’s concise recollection…by the sweetness of his memories. He leaned over and brushed his lips against her hairline and then the shell of her ear, sending tingles of pleasure through her.

  “I was an idiot kid, Es. I’m sorry. And you’re going to have to take my word about Sadie: there’s nothing between us,” he said next to her ear. He nuzzled her softly. “Hey.”

  “Yeah?” she whispered.

  “Do you believe me?”

  “Yes,” she mouthed.

  “Do you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You can’t help it that you had no idea about the way I felt. We were both clueless morons.” She reached to stroke his neck. He leaned back and touched his forehead to hers.

  “You want me to agree that you were as idiotic as I was? No way, Es.”

  Excitement prickled through her. She delved her fingers into the thick hair at his nape, scraping her fingernails against his scalp. “I suppose you’re going to paint it that I was demonstrating a rare moment of genius, having feelings for you when I was a kid?” she asked, forcing herself to sound lighthearted despite her pounding heart and the butterflies fluttering madly around her stomach. But his stare on her remained penetrating and somber.

  “I am impressed that you were smart enough, even then, to guess at the potential of this,” he said, cupping her face. His lips brushed against hers before he titled her face deliberately. Then he leaned down to devour her mouth, scattering her butterflies to the four winds.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After that, Esme was in an exceptionally good mood for the rest of the trip to Columbia. Between replaying in her head what Jude had said at the overlook, his sexy, hungry glances at her in the car, and their increasingly fevered caresses on each other’s body as Jude drove, she was feeling uncommonly—maybe inappropriately—cheerful about their mission to lasso a bitter, wounded Z back to Tahoe Shores.

  It wasn’t that she’d completely forgotten how Jude had scoffed at the idea of someone holding onto a hopeless childhood infatuation for decades. No, unfortunately, she recalled his disbelieving scorn at that concept all too well. It was just that his crystal clear recollection of how she’d looked on that horrible, vulnerable night, combined with his sincere apology for hurting her back then—something she didn’t really think he owed her, but which had soothed her a lot, nevertheless—went a long way to making her feel euphoric versus miserable.

  The snow held off until they were just outside of Columbia. They entered the quaint, picture-book town as thick snowflakes started to fall. The downtown hadn’t emptied out yet for the night. People still browsed in the shops, strolled along the sidewalks sipping cider, or waited to buy roasted chestnuts from costumed “miners”.

  Esme directed Jude to the B and B she’d booked during the car ride. “It’s across from their historic park. There,” she said, pointing at a darling painted Victorian house glowing with white Christmas lights. She’d read off the room descriptions earlier to Jude; the inn sounded full of character and charm. But when she’d mentioned two secluded cabins on the property, Jude had told her immediately to try and book one of those.

  “I don’t feel like worrying about disturbing the neighbors if we’re loud,” he’d told her with a smoky glance, the memory of which made her squirm in her seat as he pulled up the circular driveway in front of the inn.

  They checked in. The owner of the B and B gave a room key to a teenage boy, and asked him to take their luggage out to the cabin. When Jude grabbed her hand and made a beeline to follow the kid, Esme stopped him.

  “What?” Jude asked, scowling at the interruption. He was clearly determined to get to the privacy of their room, an attitude Esme understood all too well.

  “Look,” she said, keeping her voice low so as not to draw the attention to the four guests enjoying cocoa in front of the lobby fireplace. “I get that you want to go to the room right away.” She felt her cheeks heat beneath his stare. “I g
et it perfectly. But once we get in there, I’m a little concerned we might not make it out until tomorrow. If then.” His eyes glinted, and his expression hardened. Esme thought she understood why. It had happened to her, too, that lightening flash of erotic heat at the idea of being alone with him in a hotel room, with no people, secrets, or expectations to come between them.

  “But if we don’t start to look for Z now, there’s less of a chance we’ll find him by tomorrow. The day after tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” she reminded him. “We made this trip to find Z. I don’t want to run out of time.”

  For a few tense seconds, she thought he was going to argue with typical Jude stubbornness. If he did protest, she’d probably give in immediately. She recognized loud and clear that this was a man determined to engage in some extreme-sport variety, intense, no holds barred sex, and the lure was very hard to deny, even for an hour or two.

  The problem was, having the chance to satiate this hunger that had been kindled between them wasn’t really the intent of their plan in going to Columbia.

  He exhaled, frowning, and she knew he’d realized that too.

  “Yeah. You’re right. Unfortunately.”

  “Thanks, Jude,” she said softly.

  “Well we can’t search all night for my pain-in-the-ass big brother, right? And after we do, you’re mine for the night,” he told her pointedly.

  “I’m not arguing,” she replied with such uncustomary meekness that a grin broke partially through Jude’s fierceness.

  “Come on,” he said. He escorted her over to the owner of the B and B, who still stood behind the check-in desk.

  “Could you tell me if there’s a popular garage in town, preferably one that motorcycle riders would use?” He ignored Esme’s glance of surprise at his question. Her amazement was short-lived. Of course it made perfect sense to start there. Z was a bike expert, a long-time stunt driver, and a brilliant designer and mechanic. He’d need some contact in town, some place to get fuel and parts and whatever else he used to build his custom motorcycles.

 

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