My mom looked back at me, slack-jawed, anger flashing in her eyes. I stared back, face utterly blank.
“Ember, stay out of this,” mom said. “This doesn't concern you.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the lounge chair, sighing deeply. Like I said, I was sure Jude could handle himself.
Jude finally spoke, and when he did, his tone was low. Cold. “I don't need you to be my mother, Lydia.”
“I wasn't acting like your mother – Jesus Christ, you're going to gang up on me now, is that it?”
My mom melodramatically exited the pool, huffing and grumbling to herself as she climbed the nearby steps. She flung the towel around her waist and muttered loud enough for us to hear.
“I don't need this shit,” she said. “I'm going out.”
“Tell Marlon I said hello,” I called back.
If mom's eyes could kill, I'd have died on the spot. Instead, I smirked at her. I knew all too well where she was headed. Not much had changed over the years. Whenever her current hubby pissed her off, she ran back into the arms of the man she really loved but would never marry. Well, I should say, he'd never marry her because he saw her for the succubus she really was.
Mom slammed the patio door as she entered the house, leaving me alone with Jude. I laid back down on the lounge chair when I remembered that I'd forgotten to put on my sunblock. Dammit. Being pale meant you burnt easily, and I should know better. Given the situation, I was still trying to get used to things around there and learn to navigate the awkward waters.
I sat back up and reached for the bottle of SPF 50, pouring some into my hands and lathering it on my arms, then my shoulders and chest.
Jude just stood there, his drink in hand, seemingly lost in his own home.
“It's alright. She gets like this, but once Marlon cools her down, she'll be just peachy,” I said.
“Who's Marlon?” he asked.
I stretched my legs out and made sure to get every inch of flesh. Some women liked being tan, but I was a redhead and natural redheads usually burned before they tanned. Besides, my pale skin was a mark of honor for me. Once upon a time, it had been considered a sign of great wealth because the royals and nobles didn't have to spend hours laboring in the sun. Not that I believed I was royal or noble. I just took great pride in my complexion.
That, and I had no desire at all to age prematurely, or develop skin cancer, thank you.
Jude repeated himself. “Who's Marlon, Ember?”
“Her high-school sweetheart,” I muttered. “My mother has never stopped loving him, even through all her marriages.”
Footsteps made me look up again, and I saw Jude walking around the pool, heading straight toward me. A shudder ran through my body as I watched him move, the white t-shirt hugging his chest tightly, clinging to every ripple of muscle beneath it. I swallowed, hard, and resumed applying the sunscreen to my body, focusing on the back of my neck now.
Jude sat beside me in an empty lounge chair, an earnestness in his eyes. He sat silent, at first. He just stared at the door through which my mom had gone. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch his arm, to reassure him, tell him that he deserved better. His face, though, wasn't of a man who was hurting. It was of a man torn. A man confused and trying to figure out how he'd gotten to that point.
“How many times has she been married before?” he asked, his voice low.
“You're her fifth husband,” I said slowly. “Didn't you know?”
He shook his head. “She told me she was only married once before, to your father,” he said.
I grimaced. “She wasn't even married to my father,” I said. “He passed away before they could officially tie the knot.”
Jude's blue eyes softened as he turned them toward me. “I'm sorry to hear that, Ember.”
“I'm not. According to everyone, he was an asshole and probably wouldn't have wanted me anyway.” I said. “He didn't like kids and apparently, never wanted them.”
“I had no idea,” Jude said under his breath, staring down at his hands.
I wasn't sure if he meant the part about my mom being married five times already, or about my father not wanting me. It also didn't seem polite to ask, so I didn't.
“You seem like a decent enough guy, Jude, so I'm going to tell you the truth about my mother,” I said. “What you choose to do with what I'm about to tell you is your choice, of course. But, you at least deserve to know what you're getting yourself into here.”
He nodded, not looking at up me, a tension filling his body. He continued to stare down at his hands, his jaw clenched tight and a grim look on his face. It was as if he's preparing to take a blow to the midsection and was bracing himself for it.