The Mogul And The Muscle

The marshmallows flew toward Jude. One bounced off his nose. Another ricocheted off his cheek. But the third sailed straight past his teeth into his open mouth.

Alicia’s arms shot into the air and the other kids erupted with cheers. Jude stood, making a show of chewing the tiny marshmallow. He gave Alicia a high five—low enough for her to reach—then glanced at me and shrugged, his expression a little sheepish.

It was right about then that my ovaries exploded.

We spent the next hour getting mini demonstrations from the kids. Some had art projects—everything from paintings to clay sculptures. Others had built marble runs, rubber-band helicopters, and slingshot rockets. A fourteen-year-old in the middle school room had made a robot using mostly recycled materials.

They had fun showing off their creations. I couldn’t decide what was more enjoyable—watching the kids demonstrate what they’d made, or watching Jude interact with them.

When the last straw roller coaster and paper kaleidoscope had been tried, Jude and I said goodbye to the kids. Sheri walked us out where Joe was waiting in front of the building.

We exchanged thank yous and goodbyes with Sheri, then got back in the car. I checked the time and was just about to ask Jude if he wanted to grab some dinner.

But I closed my mouth, the words unspoken. He’d been adorable with those kids, revealing a side I wouldn’t have guessed existed. It made me want to dig deeper—get to know him better. And it was that very impulse that stilled me into silence.

That and the fact that I had an insane urge to offer to have his babies.

It was best if we kept things professional.

13

JUDE

M y new morning routine involved grabbing my phone off my nightstand and checking the tracking app I’d installed on Cameron’s phone while I was still blinking sleep from my eyes. Like I couldn’t even get out of bed without checking on her first.

I was always invested in my clients. Even when I’d been reluctant to take a job—which was most of the time—once I’d agreed, I was committed.

My level of commitment to Cameron, however, was something else.

I couldn’t help myself. She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up in the morning and I had to know she was safe at home. It was a compulsion that had developed all too quickly, and one I couldn’t seem to control.

It wasn’t because she was smart and beautiful and a badass. It had nothing to do with those green eyes, sharp wit, or that ass.

God, that ass.

I was just jittery about her situation because my instincts were still whispering danger and I didn’t have answers. I had one of Derek’s people trying to trace the email she’d gotten, but whoever had done it had covered their tracks well. And it turned out, that wasn’t the only one she’d received. There were several more that had been relegated to her spam folder, all with similarly cryptic and vaguely threatening messages.

Cameron seemed unconcerned, but I’d also learned that she hid her feelings well.

I was convinced someone was fucking with her and it was driving me crazy that I didn’t know who it was. Or why.

I had most of my Saturday to myself. Cameron had an event to attend tonight, but until then, I was free. Luckily, she was being a reasonably cooperative client. I didn’t need to worry that she’d go against my advice and leave home without protection.

But I still checked her location at least twice an hour.

What I needed was to get out of the house, and not be on high alert. So I went to the driving range to hit some balls. Took out a little aggression, although it was frustrating because my accuracy still sucked.

After grabbing a late lunch, I went home to shower and change. Tonight was an outdoor art show. In cooler weather, I’d have gone for a full suit and tie, but Miami evenings were warm in the summer. I opted for a button down and lightweight jacket. Still breathable. And maneuverable.

Cameron’s driver would take us to the event tonight, so I drove my motorcycle to Bluewater. I parked in front of her house and glanced at my watch. I was early.

I hadn’t meant to be. I was just being efficient. Early was better than late. It had nothing to do with her magnetic pull or an irresistible desire to see her.