“What’s happening?” she asks drowsily.
The knock sounds again.
“Skylar? It’s me,” Jude says through the door.
“He’s home,” I whisper. Relief floods through me but my heart is still pounding against my ribcage.
“Well, let him in, silly,” Megan says.
I climb out of bed, and a quick wave of dizziness almost makes me fall back. Steadying myself, I carefully cross the room and unlock the door.
“Thank God,” I say, choking on a sob and resisting the need to throw my arms around him and never let go. “I’ve been so worried about you. Why didn’t you call or text me? I’ve been freaking out thinking something horrible happened. Like you were dead. Or in jail.” I swallow hard. “I was afraid I’d never see you again.”
“Didn’t I promise you I’d come home?” His voice is deeper than usual, and it makes my insides vibrate.
I sniffle and my lower lip trembles. “Yeah, but I was still going crazy worrying.”
He drops the pillowcase he’s holding and pulls me into his arms. I press my cheek against his chest and he palms the back of my head. “Shhh…” he whispers, rubbing my back with his other hand. “I’m here. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” I hug him tighter, clasping my hands behind his back. He smells of sweat and cigarettes, and his heart is pounding against my cheek. I close my eyes and let him blanket me in all his masculine heat. I feel safe and protected. Finally.
When we part, he hands me the ragged pillowcase of my things, and my phone. That’s when I notice the knuckles of his right hand are cut open and bleeding.
Grabbing his hand, I ask in a hushed voice, “What happened?”
“I beat the living fuck out of Jimmy Vantz, that’s what happened.”
I stare up into his eyes in the dark hallway. “What about Erin? You didn’t hurt her, did you?” As crazy as Erin might be, she’s still his sister and I wouldn’t want him to hurt her over what she did to me. She’s family, and I’m… I don’t even know what I am to him.
“Of course I didn’t hurt her. But she’ll be too busy taking care of that brain-dead asshole to ever come back here.”
I gulp, unsure if he’s exaggerating or telling the truth. “You shouldn’t have done this—just to get my stuff back. It wasn’t worth it.”
“Yeah,” he says. “It was. Nobody gets away with hurting you, Skylar. No one. Not even me.”
“What does that mean?” Has he hurt me? Does he think he might?
“Exactly what I said.” He reaches out and cups the side of my head in his palm, and I think oh wow, he’s going to kiss me right here in front of Megan, but he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he runs his thumb gently across my temple.
“Does it hurt?” His eyes, illuminated by the glow of the television in my room, are smoldering with a kaleidoscope of emotions.
Suddenly, I wish Megan weren’t here.
I wish things were different, so I could fall asleep in his arms, in his bed, and feel safe here again. The feeling of security and safety I’ve always felt in this house has been rattled, and that’s just as horrible as what Erin did to my car and to my face.
“It hurts a little.”
He pulls me to him and touches his lips right over my stitches. I wince from the pain, but I don’t care because I want every single kiss from him. The sweet ones, the angry ones, and even the ones that hurt.
“Maybe that’ll make it better,” he says all soft and sexy.
“It does,” I say.
“Hey, Jude, you can sleep with us if you’re afraid to be alone, too,” Megan teases from the background, ruining the moment.
Jude grins and snickers. “Don’t flirt with married men, Megan,” he says, not taking his eyes from mine.
“Good answer!” she replies. “Unexpected and disappointing, but perfect.”
“You’re a good husband,” I whisper.
He winks at me, then walks down the hall and disappears behind his closed door. I ache to follow him. He’s been injured today, too—deep in his soul—and I wish I could kiss it better.
Chapter 37
Jude
I’ve never dated.
This realization comes to me as I’m sitting in the sunroom with Gus purring on my lap, listening to Skylar talk to Megan on the phone in the living room.
“I’m fine, really. I’ve just been resting. Yes. It’s so sweet you guys are doing that together. No, I’ve never eaten there. You know I don’t like restaurants. You have to tell me all about it tomorrow.”
I’ve never taken a woman out to eat, or to the movies. I’ve never vacationed with someone. My version of dating has consisted of drive-through dinners, hanging out in bars, motels or at her place, having sex, and then making a quick exit.
I’m not sure Skylar has ever had any real dates, either.