Don't Kiss the Bride

Walking to the shop in the morning shouldn’t be bad since the temperature will be cooler, but later in the afternoon when I have to get my car it’s expected to be ninety-five degrees with humidity, and I just don’t think I can walk that far.

Finally, I shove pride and the risk of being that annoying person to the side and send Jude a message:

Me: Hi.

Fluffle-Up-A-Gus curls up against my side, purring loudly. I scratch her head as I eye my phone for a reply.

Jude: Hey you.

Me: I hate to ask, but if your offer to drive me to pick up my car still stands, I’d really appreciate it. My BFF has to babysit, so she can’t take me.

A few seconds creep by before his answer lights up my screen.

Jude: Sure. What time?

Me: I’ll be at Belongings. I can leave at 3.

Jude: K. I can do that.

Me: I’m really sorry to ask. It’s just kinda hot to walk that far.

Sure, I could use Uber or Lyft, but that makes me nervous. We’re told from the time we can understand words not to get into cars with strangers, yet here we all are, paying strangers to let us get in their cars. I just don’t feel okay with it.

Jude: Don’t worry about it. I don’t have any plans tomorrow. Not a big deal.

Me: Okay. Thank you :-)

Jude: C-ya then, Sparkles. ?

My heart flutters a little over his nickname for me, just like it does every time he says it in person.

Chapter 6

Skylar

“Lucky. Wow, it’s been a long time. Can I… um… help you find something special?” Rebecca’s soft, curiosity-tinged voice floats to the back stockroom.

Shit. It figures he’d come while I wasn’t out front. I switch off the light and walk out. He’s standing there, looking totally out of place in this cozy shop, in a white tee, black baseball hat on backward, jeans so faded they’re almost gray, and scuffed, untied work boots. Grinning around a lollipop stick hanging out of his mouth, he nods in my direction as I approach them. “Already found it. I’m here for her.”

My boss studies him quizzically. “Excuse me?”

“He’s giving me a ride to pick up my car at the mechanic’s, Rebecca,” I explain.

Surprise lifts her eyebrows. “Oh.”

I can feel her eyes boring into me as I pick up my purse from behind the register. No doubt she’s wondering how Jude and I know each other, but I’ll have to explain another time if I want to catch the mechanic before he closes at 3:30.

“Are these free?” Jude holds up one of the small robin-egg-blue paper bags filled with cookies, squinting through the little cellphone window under the logo. “Those better not be raisins in there.”

“Technically they’re free, but they’re for customers,” Rebecca replies. “And they’re chocolate chip.”

He flashes a smirk, which I’ve quickly realized is his signature sexy trait. “Can I just buy the cookies?”

Rebecca shakes her head, but smiles. “Just take them.”

“Thanks. How's Adam doing?”

She grimaces at the mention of her ex-husband. “I’m sure he’s doing great considering the last time I saw him his secretary was on her knees under his desk.”

“Ouch,” Jude says. “Sorry to hear that. He always was an asshole.”

“That’s true. And so were you.”

“Hey, I’m a nice asshole. There’s a difference.”

I narrow my gaze at him. “What’s a nice asshole, exactly?”

“Him,” Rebecca replies, wiping down the glass cabinet. We always joke that it breeds fingerprints. “Exactly him right in front of you.”

I give Jude’s arm a tug. “We better go, nice asshole. The mechanic said he was leaving at 3:30.” I smile at Rebecca. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night. Enjoy the cookies, Lucky.”

He waves. “If I like them, I’ll come back and buy something so I can get more.”

We leave to the sound of Rebecca’s laughter—a sound I don’t hear often. I wonder if she had a crush on Jude when they were young. I thought I caught a hint of flirting from her. But now that I think about it, I’ve never seen her interact with a man in the store before. They would actually make a cute couple.

“Maybe you should ask her out to dinner,” I say on the walk to Jude’s truck.

He pulls a face of shock and disdain. “Who? Rebecca? Why?”

“’Cause she’s lonely since she got divorced.”

He opens the passenger side door for me and I hop in.

“I have a no-dating-divorced-women rule,” he says when he’s settled behind the wheel. “Especially lonely ones.”

Turning to him, I put my sunglasses on. “What’s wrong with divorced women?”

“In my experience, they’re usually trying to get married again. Which is weird, ’cause you’d think they’d want to never go down that road again. I ain’t looking for a wife and kids.”

“How come?”

He shrugs. “The divorce rate is insane. And kids are out of control, especially teens.” He glances over at me with his grin. “Present company excluded, of course. I put my parents through hell when I was younger. So did my sister.” He takes a deep breath and stares at the red light we’re stopped at. “I just don’t want to invest my heart and soul into someone who could shred it all like a raptor, take half of my stuff, mess up my kids, and let God-knows-who into their lives on weekends and holidays. Fuck all that.”