Jude (Beautiful Mine #2) (4 page)

JUDE

“We’ve been waiting for you.” My mother’s lithe frame stood before me. It’d been eight years since I’d seen her last, and her icy blue stare still sent shivers down my spine. It was plain to see she’d been crying, her puffy eyes hidden behind layers of makeup as if she couldn’t bear for anyone to see her vulnerable for more than two seconds. “Come in.”

We stood in the foyer, still as dark as I remembered it, and for a split second, it seemed as though she wanted to hug me but then changed her mind.

“I’m so sorry you couldn’t make it for the funeral,” she said as she glided down the hall. I followed. She turned a corner, bringing us into the dark den still filled to the brim with exotic game mounts and my father’s antique curiosities. She took a seat, grabbing a tissue from an ornate box on a side table and dabbing the corners of her eyes.

“I didn’t think I was welcome,” I said as I took a seat across from her. “We hadn’t spoken in years. I didn’t want to make a scene.”

She clutched her hand over her heart. “You’re my son, Jude. You’re always welcome.”

Who was this woman, and what had she done with my mother? The woman standing before me crying and acting like she gave a damn was not the same person that’d cut me off at eighteen, forbidding me to speak to my younger brother. He’d spent the last eight years thinking I didn’t give a shit about him when really, it was her. She filled his head with all kinds of crazy thoughts about me.

“Did Jamison come?” I asked, referring to my older half-brother.

“No,” she said, her lips trembling. “It was just your father and I and a few relatives. It was a small but beautiful ceremony. I think Julian would’ve loved it.”

I pursed my lips and nodded, trying to picture it. I hated not being there.

“Have you given any thought to what we discussed?” she asked, referencing specifically to the favor she’d asked of me, though it was more of a bribe than a favor.

“I’ve thought about it, yes,” I replied.

“And?”

“I’m working on it,” I replied, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth and making me feel dirty.

“Oh, wonderful,” she said, her lips twisting into a pleased smile. “And please, Jude, allow me to invest in your business as my way of thanking you. I’ve missed out on so much of your young adulthood over this petty nonsense.”

Yeah, the petty nonsense that stemmed from me not wanting to come back to the mansion and live my life in her tight clutches.

“Really?” I asked. My business had been suffering. The economy was still recovering, and new competitors emerged practically by the hour. I needed investors, and I needed them badly. “You want to invest in J-Corp?”

“You’re helping me,” she said. “I want to help you.”

It was dirty money, and I knew it—any gift from Caroline Garner-Willoughby always had strings attached to it. But I wasn’t exactly in a position to turn it down. My livelihood and the success of business all depended on it. I was one bad month away from losing everything I’d worked my entire life to achieve.

“Two and a half million enough?” she asked, one thin eyebrow raised as her ice blue eyes burned into me.

It was more than enough. I could expand my company like crazy with that money, even build a nest egg for the hard times. “That should do. Thank you.”

“Mrs. Garner-Willoughby,” Rosa, our housekeeper, said from the doorway, “you have a phone call from New York.”

“Jamison?” I asked.

“No, no,” she said, waving it off as she stood to leave. “I’ve got a business call to take. You’re more than welcome to stay here while you’re in town, Jude.”

“I’m staying with Evie,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair and avoiding her gaze.

“Perfect!” she said, suddenly elated. “I see you’re on it already.”

She spun on her heel and left the room, and I leaned back into the couch cushions. The twelve-foot ceilings were covered with the same old mahogany coffers. The walls were lined with the same game heads. Bison. Elk. Rams. My father’s gun collection was on full display. He didn’t even shoot guns, and he certainly wasn’t a hunter. This place hadn’t changed at all since I’d left, and neither had my mother, scheming just as much as ever.

I showed myself out and climbed back into my car, driving around town for hours. Halverford was a drop in the bucket compared to L.A. Traffic was virtually non-existent and everyone drove slow, taking their time. No one was in a rush. Time stood still.

I traced the same loop about twenty times before heading back over to Evie’s, my mother’s words echoing in my mind. I pulled into her drive and punched the steering wheel before getting out. I was a double fucking agent. Julian had asked me to take care of her. My mother asked me to dig up dirt on her, find something good, prove she was after the family’s money. I’d be rewarded handsomely if I did, she said. That two-and-a-half million was just earnest money, a small token of her appreciation. There was plenty more where that came from.

“Fucking piece of shit,” I said to my reflection in the rearview mirror before getting out. “Do the right thing, Jude.”

EVIE

The crunching of gravel under tires filled the quietude of my house, pulling my attention toward the driveway where Jude sat in his parked car. I leapt up from the sofa, combing my dark hair into place and checking my reflection in the mirror for any rogue mascara streaks. Nope. All my mascara had been cried off that morning.

“Hey,” I said to him as I opened the door a second later. “Thought you weren’t coming back until later?”

He stared at my puffy, swollen face, his eyes wrinkled with concern. “You okay, kid? You need a hug, or something?”

I shook my head, but he stepped forward anyway, wrapping his strong arms around me and hugging me tight. I tensed up at first but then gave in, letting him hold me. It felt good. I breathed him in, though much to my dismay he smelled nothing like Julian. He smelled like leather. Summer breeze. New car. Vetiver and musk.

“Thanks,” I said, uncomfortably pulling away.

“You hungry?” he asked as he glanced at the clock. It was already a quarter until noon. “You didn’t eat breakfast, so…?”

My stomach growled for the first time in days, and my hand flew to it as if it could muffle the sound. “I guess.”

“I can whip something up,” he offered.

“I don’t have much here,” I said, my eyes darting to my kitchen. My cupboards were pathetically bare. “I might have a block of cheese and some canned vegetables. Maybe a frozen pizza. There’s not much.”

“I’m sure I can find something,” he said, oozing confidence. “I’m pretty resourceful.”

He rolled up the sleeves of his paper-thin button-down shirt and started rifling through my kitchen, making himself perfectly at home.

I sat at my kitchen table, in awe of him as he got to work ransacking my refrigerator and pulling out various pots and pans. Jude was in his own little world. I watched the way he moved, the way his arms flexed when he whisked the sauce and the way he licked his fingers as he sampled it.

That’s what years of living alone would do to a person,
I thought as I watched.

After a few more minutes, Jude plated the piping hot food and brought it over, taking the seat next to me.

“I don’t know what to call this,” he said, handing me a fork. “It should be fairly edible. If not, pizza’s on me.”

“Thanks for cooking,” I said, blowing on my first bite.

“Anything you need,” he said with a shrug. “It’s the least I could do, since you’re letting me crash here. Figure I should earn my keep.”

“Jude, you’re family,” I reminded him. “Of course I’d let you stay here. Don’t feel like you owe me something.”

He cocked his head, looking at me funny for a second. “There aren’t a lot of people like you where I come from. Everyone’s always out to get something. There are no favors. No free lunches. This is refreshing.” He paused and took a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully. “You’re a good girl, Evie.”

We ate our dinner in silence. It was some kind of pasta, cheese, and vegetable type thing. Not being alone was nice for a change. It’d only been a few days since Julian died, but I needed this.

“I hate to be rude,” he said after he finished his dinner and rinsed his plate off in the sink, “but I’ve got to get a little bit of work done.”

He ran into the next room and returned with his laptop, cracking it open and getting to work.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I assured him, sneaking a peak at his screen as he clicked around and opened various websites and spreadsheets. Nothing jumped out at me or made me even remotely want to know more about what he did.

I finished my meal and took my plate to the sink before heading off to the living room to let him work in peace. The day was still young, and I was no longer tired. Too much sleep would do that to a girl.

Stuck in a deep, dark void and filled with unbridled energy, I sat in the quiet living room alone with my thoughts. Leaning back into the sofa, I crossed my legs and my foot twitched with wild vigor.

“You just going to sit here in the dark?” The light switched on, revealing Jude standing in the doorway with his laptop in his hand, still open.

“Kind of in my own little world these days. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Evie,” he scoffed as he took a seat beside me, eyes still fixed on his computer screen. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”

“Still working?”

“Almost… Okay, done.” He closed the lid to his laptop and sat it down on the coffee table next to Julian’s books before leaning back, both of his muscular arms spread wide against the back of the sofa. “I like it here. I feel like a part of Julian is here. It feels like home.”

“I can tell,” I said.

“I missed out on so much of his life,” Jude mused, his voice filled with regret. “And for what?”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “I’m sure Caroline had a hand in making sure your rift was nice and big.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve tried harder,” he said, shaking his head and staring off to the side, deep in thought. “I thought we had more time.”

“So, back to this letter Julian wrote you…” I began. It’d been on my mind ever since he mentioned it. “When did he send it? How’d he know where you lived? How often did you write each other?”

Jude bit his lip, his mouth curling into a grin. “You’re a persistent little thing.”

“He was my husband,” I said, standing firm. “I deserve to know these things.”

“He emailed me about a month ago,” Jude said, drawing in a deep breath. “And we really never wrote each other that much. Back and forth a couple of times. Mostly about you. Mostly making preparations.”

“Preparations?” I asked.

“Come on, Evie,” Jude said. “You knew he was dying.”

My lip trembled. “Yeah. We just didn’t talk about it much. His sickness was a part of our everyday life, but we never talked about the fact that he was dying. Maybe we should’ve. I don’t know.”

“I don’t think he ever forgave me for leaving him,” Jude said, his voice cracking a bit, “but he never stopped loving me. We never lost that bond.”

“I just think it’s so strange that he never mentioned you before,” I mused. “We told each other everything. There’s got to be a reason.”

Jude looked worried for a split second, as if he thought I were second-guessing my decision to let him into my life.

“Julian was a bit mysterious,” he replied. “I think we can both agree on that.”

“Absolutely,” I said with a smile. “Can I see them? The letters?”

Jude hesitated, conflict consuming his expression. “I don’t know if I still have them all.”

“Bullshit,” I shot back. “If they’re emails, you can retrieve them. You had one in your hand last night. I want to see it.”

“Look, I won’t say ‘no,’ but I can’t say ‘yes’ quite yet,” he said, his golden eyes softening as if asking me to cut him some slack. “You have to wait. It’ll all make sense later. I promise.”

I crossed my arms, dissatisfied with the entire exchange and his bullshit explanations.

Jude reached over and placed one arm on me, the one covered in a myriad of tattoos. My father always said to stay away from men with ink. They were bad news. Conflicted. Confused. Complicated.

“Just trust me, Evie,” Jude said. “Okay?”