Wild, Hungry Hearts

by Unknown

Despite the chill, she felt heat rush into her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry if I disappointed you. I really am,” he said.

  She saw the hardness of his jaw. It struck her that he was upset. No, not upset. Miserable. She reached for his hands.

  “I’m not disappointed. I never expected that you felt the same way about me as I did you,” she exclaimed. “Jude, I just wanted to hear the truth, that’s all. I wanted a clear playing field. I needed it. You told me about Sadie and Mat, and that day by the pool. That’s always been a huge stumbling block for me. It was hard hearing the truth, but—” She broke off, struggling to explain what she so freshly understood herself.

  “But what?”

  “The biggest thing that hit me when you told me the truth is how much I’d been disillusioning myself about you. About Sadie. I feel like a fool,” she admitted, wincing.

  “You shouldn’t. Given what you saw, what other conclusion would you make?”

  She made a doubtful sound. He squeezed her hands, and she looked up at him.

  “Is it too much, Es? Too…weird? What you I told you about Mat, Sadie and me?”

  She heard the hint of dread in his voice and scooted forward on the couch. “No, it’s not too weird, Jude.” She saw the doubt lingering on his face. “I mean, it is weird, but to be honest—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—the truth is better than what I imagined.”

  “What?” he asked, clearly incredulous.

  “It was much worse thinking that it was you and Sadie, sharing something special. Something intimate, just between you two.”

  His right eyebrow went up in an expression of wry amusement.

  “Better to think of me as the one they wanted to kick out of bed once they were together, you mean?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Let’s not dwell on the details. Now or ever.”

  “Fine by me,” he muttered under his breath.

  “My point is, I was seeing everything from the point of view of a kid’s fantasies. I just wanted to see reality. Raw and uncut. I needed to know what you were thinking of me all these years. It helped me, hearing the truth.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d been so wrong about you and Sadie, at least it was good to know I’d gotten it right about you,” she stated emphatically.

  “You weren’t disappointed?”

  “No,” she said sincerely.

  “It doesn’t matter to you? That you knew all along. And that it didn’t get through my thick skull until the last few months?”

  “No…I mean…what didn’t get through your thick skull?” she asked, her eyes going wide as she fully absorbed what he was saying.

  “That I was in love with you,” he said simply.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Oh,” Esme whispered through lips that had suddenly gone numb. She stared up at the length of Jude in dazed wonderment, but suddenly his image was dropping in her vision.

  “See, the thing is,” she heard him say as if through a tunnel. “I don’t know if I loved you all the time and was too dense to get it, or if I’ve been falling in love with you ever since I opened that Pandora’s box, and touched you in Beverly Hills.”

  It struck her that she was staring directly at his face, and that he’d sunk to his knees in front of her.

  “Do you think it matters, Es?” he asked, his face achingly somber. “Which one it is?”

  She shook her head, completely speechless. She couldn’t believe he was saying this. Jude Beckett had told her he was in love with her. Miracles did happen in everyday life, after all.

  He quirked his right eyebrow, and she sensed the touch of his humor behind his seriousness. “Because the thing of it is, I know how competitive you are. I won’t let you hold this over me for our entire future.”

  Anxious laughter burst out of her throat. “What the hell are you talking about, Beckett?”

  He shrugged slightly as if to say his point was obvious. He reached out and cupped her chin in his palm, his gesture so tender, so cherishing, her throat swelled to the point of pain.

  “I mean that you are strictly prohibited from telling our grandkids someday that I took second place in this thing,” he murmured, giving he a stern glance. He drew closer, his lips just inches from hers. “Maybe you loved longest, Es. But I don’t think anyone could love anyone else more than I do you right at this second,” he muttered fiercely, before his mouth closed on hers.

  His kiss shattered that sense of fuzzy disbelief. As always, everything went into tight, crystal clear focus at the feeling of his mouth molding hers, at the taste of him. His hand found the bottom of her dress. He swept his palm up her thigh. His long fingers stretched. Instinctively, she parted her legs for him. He ran a fingertip in the vicinity of the tattoo, making her tingle with excitement.

  “Tell me what it says, Es…what it means,” he rasped against her lips. His hand rose. He cupped her sex in that tender, possessive gesture she loved.

  “Jude Beckett forever.”

  “That’s right,” he said, plucking at her lips with increasing fervor. His hand began to move. “Nothing less than forever, baby.”

  After they’d made love, Jude held her against him as they reclined on the couch. At some point during their especially passionate lovemaking, he’d managed to tear apart her up-do. Her hair tumbled all around their entwined bodies.

  “Maybe I should consider working in the private sector,” he mused as he lazily caressed a tendril of her hair.

  She lifted her head several inches off his chest, surprised by his comment. “I thought you loved working for the government.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why would you work in the private sector?”

  “I was just thinking out loud,” he said, lifting his hand and pressing her head back onto his chest. “I want to be flexible. Don’t you think we should consider living together in the very near future? Because I’m not loving the idea of having the whole nation between us.”

  “Oh…yeah,” she agreed, catching his drift and warming to the topic. “But I’m the one who can work from anywhere. Technically, anyway. I design mostly on my own. Between FaceTime and occasional trips, I probably could manage the other things I need to do.”

  “Really?”

  She lifted her head again and studied his face.

  “Theoretically, yeah.”

  He smiled. “I guess theoretically is good enough for now.” She leaned down and kissed his grin. His hand opened at the back of her head. “Do you know what I really want to do? And it’s not theoretical at all. We can do it tomorrow night, after the wedding, if you want.”

  “What?” she whispered.

  “I want to put you in the car and drive back over to Columbia.”

  She brightened. “To the little cabin?”

  “Why not? We’re both off until New Years.” He applied pressure on her head. She leaned down, and he seized her lips with his.

  “All I want to do,” he said huskily next to her lips between slow, ravenous kisses, “Is have you in bed for days straight…live off you alone. I want to sleep, drink and eat Esme Esterbrook.”

  She chuckled, cradling his jaw with one hand. That old, familiar ache of love swelled in her chest. But this time, it wasn’t only a thousand times more powerful. It was exponentially more wonderful.

  “Only you could make that sound sexy,” she told him, rolling her eyes.

  He pulled her down to him more surely. “You’re the one who makes it sexy,” he assured, before he started to consume her in earnest.

  Epilogue

  Six Weeks Later

  When Esme saw whom it was calling early that morning, she was surprised. It was way early for Sadie to be calling from the West Coast. Esme was still in bed naked, but she’d been working on some designs. She shoved aside some of her discarded drawings and snagged her phone.

  “Morning Sadie,” she answered cheerfully. Out of the periphery of her vision, she saw Jude rush out of his walk-in closet,
long legs motoring, his dark hair still damp, a blue striped tie draped around his neck. One of the first things she’d learned when she’d moved in with him to his Georgetown apartment three weeks ago was that he was routinely late for work in the morning. She still hadn’t quite figured out if it was because he was habitually unpunctual, or if his lateness had to do with the fact that they couldn’t seem to take their hands off each other in the morning so that he could get in the shower.

  Morning, noon, and night, if Jude had his way about it, Esme thought with amused happiness as she listened distractedly to Sadie apologize for calling so early. Jude met her stare and made a motion with his thumb, pantomiming hanging up the phone. She knew he wanted to tell her at what restaurant they were meeting tonight. Yesterday, Jude had told his boss, the Secretary of the Treasury of the United States, that he’d asked Esme to marry him. His boss had surprised them by inviting both Jude and Esme to dinner tonight, to celebrate their engagement.

  They’d told everyone in Tahoe Shores that they were involved, and that they planned to live together. Everyone had been shocked, then amazed, then thrilled at the news. But they hadn’t had the opportunity to tell their families yet that they planned to marry in the spring.

  “It’s okay. But Sadie, can I call you back in a few minutes?” Esme asked her sister presently. “Jude’s about ready to walk out the door—”

  “I really think you need to hear this now. Both of you,” Sadie stated firmly.

  Esme went still. Sadie sounded super serious. She and her big sister had been talking a lot more recently. Despite the fact that Esme had moved to D.C. and Sadie still lived in L.A., she’d never felt closer to her big sister. Sadie had been the one to share all those late night conversations about whether or not Esme could possibly run her business on the east coast, and what it was like being in a relationship with Jude after all these years, and…well, just all Jude-related topics, in general. It was the happiest time of Esme’s life, after all. Sadie had been phenomenal about letting Esme gush and ramble.

  But Esme had learned to listen to her big sister, too…to hear, even in the silences, the depths and complexities of Sadie’s soul.

  “Is Jude there?” Sadie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Better put me on speaker,” Sadie said, the grimness of her tone making Esme frown. She waved for Jude to come over toward the bed, where she lazed beneath the covers. It wasn’t even dawn on the west coast. The other employees of EsmeEs designs weren’t even conscious yet, so it’s not like she had to worry about dressing yet for a morning FaceTime conference for hours.

  “It’s Sadie,” she whispered, grabbing Jude’s hand when he approached and pulling him down on the mattress.

  “I’m late, baby,” he muttered, softening his scowl by landing a kiss on her naked shoulder. He seemed incapable of not touching her when he was within striking distance, a fact that sent a shot of warmth through her even at that tense moment.

  “It sounds serious,” she told him with a significant glance, putting her phone on speaker.

  “What’s up, Sadie?” Jude asked.

  “You two better brace yourself,” Sadie said dryly. “I know I’m still reeling.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?” Esme asked, exchanging a worried glance with Jude.

  “Mom and Stephen got a bit of a shock last night,” Sadie said.

  “Are they okay?” Esme asked.

  “Yeah, they’re fine. Everyone’s fine…I guess, anyway. I just got off the phone with Mom, and told her I’d call you to break the news,” Sadie said dubiously. “The thing is, Z and Ursa showed up at the house unexpectedly last night. To make an announcement.”

  “What announcement?” Esme asked.

  “They got married.”

  “Married?”

  “To each other?” Jude demanded, scowling.

  “Yep. You have a new sister-in-law, Jude. That’s not all. Esme, we’re going to be aunts. Jude, you’re going to be an uncle. Ursa is pregnant. And Z’s the father.”

  Esme and Jude stared at each other, mute with shock. Jude didn’t know the truth, but Esme did. Due to her illness as a child, Ursa wasn’t even supposed to be able to get pregnant. So the news sounded absolutely unreal to Esme, on so many levels.

  Sadie sighed. “It seems that the phenomenon of Esterbrook women falling for Beckett men has reached some kind of epidemic level.”

  “I just…I can’t believe it,” Esme said.

  Sadie gave a mirthless laugh. “I know. It’s shocking, isn’t it? And here I’d thought there was so much I’d never fathomed going on behind the scenes between you two.”

  A Note from the Author

  I hope you have enjoyed Jude and Esme’s story! But when it comes to this close-knit group of family and friends, there’s always more going on behind the scenes than you might think. As you now know from Sadie’s phone call at the end of Wild, Hungry Hearts, there’s another romance that has been blooming between two unlikely members of the Bear Clan: Z and Ursa. Their singularly steamy love story unfolds in Wild, Wounded Hearts! And now, just for you, here’s a sneak peek! Look for WWH’s later this summer.

  Wild, Wounded Hearts

  Wild Hearts, Book 2

  By Beth Kery

  Prologue

  Twenty-two years ago

  Z Beckett stealthily climbed the carved wooden staircase. It was the first time he had ever dared to set foot on what had always been considered forbidden territory in the Esterbrook house.

  The sounds of agonized pants and muted screams coming from above made him want to shout as well, to fill his head with anything but that cruel noise. The boy stayed silent though, strangling his anxiety with the strength learned from his own suffering.

  He heard the bear roaring outside—another mother in pain—and then a siren in the distance. Esme Esterbrook was going to be in so much trouble for luring that baby cub into the garage. Now the cub’s pissed-off mom was holding them all hostages inside the Esterbrook house. Five minutes into the standoff, Mrs. Esterbrook had gone into labor. Because the huge black bear was stalking angrily just outside the garage, they couldn’t open a door to release the cub. Meanwhile, the bear was blocking the driveway exit and intermittently wandering to other exits around the house. Mrs. Esterbrook couldn’t safely get to the hospital to have her baby.

  And suddenly, it was too late. Baby Esterbrook was coming, whether they were ready or not.

  Most of the time, Z couldn’t help but admire how brave Esme was, especially for such a little kid. But this time, she’d gone way too far. How was Esme going to feel if her dumb-ass prank had something to do with killing her own mom?

  He pushed down the horrible thought. Silently, he crossed the sunny landing and eased down the shadowed corridor, all of his attention focused on the bedroom door at the end of the hall. It was cracked open an inch. His lungs burned painfully as he tried to restrain his panting. This was foreign territory to the orphan, next-door-neighbor kid: an adult world, a strange, compelling world.

  The screams stopped, only to be replaced by the sound of panting…

  And then, a tiny, kitten-like cry.

  The boy knew those screams had been coming from Mrs. Esterbrook. He’d never met a prettier, nicer lady in his whole life. Every scream had sliced through him like a knife cut on skin. Still, he drew closer to the room, drawn by something his ten-year-old brain couldn’t quite comprehend.

  Sure, he was pulling this crazy stunt because Grandpa Joe had ordered him to stay put downstairs in the Esterbrook family room with the littler kids—his brother Jude, their friend Mat, and Mrs. Esterbrook’s daughters, Sadie and Esme. Z didn’t like being told what to do. Before he’d been killed in a car crash, Z’s dad used to say that there had never been a line drawn that Z didn’t feel compelled to cross.

  But even Z himself was surprised at his daring in sneaking upstairs in the Esterbrook house during such a critical time.

  He felt sick to his stomach about Mrs. Esterbrook
. Had his mother screamed like that just before she’d died in the car crash, surrounded by hot, twisted metal, smoke and fire? The thought was unbearable to Z. He knew Mrs. Esterbrook cried out for a complete different reason.

  But all pain sounded similar to a ten-year-old orphan’s ears.

  He risked another step down the hallway in the direction of the door. The wood floor creaked under his foot. He abruptly halted at the sound, wincing in dread at being discovered. He plastered his back against the wall, holding his breath. Stephen would be as furious at him for this stunt.

  Through a tiny crack in the door, he heard a man’s voice.

  “It’s a girl, Ilsa.”

  “She’s a beauty,” another man said, sounding awed.

  Z recognized the first voice as belonging to Grandpa Joe’s physical therapist and caregiver, Stephen Jackson. Stephen had also looked out for Z and his little brother, Jude, soon after they’d been dumped on Grandpa Joe’s doorstep half a year ago. He knew that in addition to being a physical therapist, Stephen had been a medic in the army. In Z’s experience, Stephen knew just about everything. Surely he could help Mrs. Esterbrook safely have a baby.

  At least she’s not screaming anymore.

  “Let me see her, Clive.”

  “Let Stephen finish cleaning her up,” Mr. Esterbrook said gently.

  Z crept further down the hallway, closer to the door. He had a lot of experience stalking silently, thanks to hours of playing X-Men, Star Wars or Z’s personal favorite, Ghost Rider, with Jude and Mat. Now that they’d moved to Tahoe Shores, Sadie and Esme insisted on playing things like Xena Warrior Princess or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a fact that disgusted Z. It had at first, anyway, until he’d learned it was just as fun to play the bad guy as it was the hero.

  “Hello beautiful girl. Welcome to the world,” he heard Mrs. Esterbrook croon. She sounded very tired, but happy somehow. Z wasn’t sure how that could be right. Even the baby stopped its crying, as if she, too, wanted to hear the mystery in her mother’s voice.