Not wanting to seem desperate for information like I really am, I try my best to pull a Jude and change the subject. “You know you really can’t give me shit about my garage anymore. How long have you lived here? You should really finish unpacking.”
"I signed a one-year lease and you can tell this isn't a place I want to be for longer than a year. There was no reason to settle any more than I needed to." He digs through drawers, stuffing things into a gym bag.
I start walking around the room looking at stuff strewn everywhere. "Are your parents still in Denver?"
"My dad's still there. My parents divorced when I was in high school, my mom remarried about 10 years ago. She and her husband live in Sedona now."
“Huh,” I barely respond. “Are your parents Hispanic? Where does Ortiz come from?”
“My grandfather—dad’s dad—was Puerto Rican. But other than that, I’m a little bit of everything.”
I grin at him. "Well, what you are is tall, dark, and handsome with a lot of mysterious mixed in. Thank you, Jude. That was actually a wealth of information. Sorry your parents are divorced."
"It's okay. They're happier apart and they don’t have a problem being around each other. It's never been ugly or anything," he explains with a shrug.
"That's good." I sit down on his bed as he heads to his closet and I think about part-Puerto Rican Jude having a brother and divorced parents.
Shaking me out of my thoughts, he's standing in front of me holding his hand out and says quietly, "Let's go, sugar. I'm done."
Taking his hand, I let him pull me out of his room, all of a sudden sad that he’s lived here almost a year, out of boxes and not having a home.
Needing to know as much as I can find out, I give his hand a little squeeze and say tentatively, “Jude, you know all about me. I mean, you know it’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone else.” He stops and turns to gaze down at me with a guarded expression. “So … when was the last time you were with someone, you know, long term, or um, even serious?” I ask, stumbling over my words, praying it’s okay to ask about his past.
He stands there and looks down at me for quite a few beats. Giving my hand a good yank pulling me into him, his other arm goes around my waist and says with meaning, “A long time, Gabby. A really fucking long time.” He leans down and kisses me softly. Pulling back to look down at me he states, “Let’s go.”
There’s something about the way he answered with finality that doesn’t invite me to ask further. Taking my hand again, he leads me out of his not great condo and we head home.
I look back up at Leigh after finishing my story. “Even though he’s a little mysterious, I do know more than I did last week. He makes me really happy, though. It’s different than being with James, but it’s only been a couple weeks—even though it’s been a crazy couple of weeks. I’m just hoping it stays good, you know?”
Leigh looks at me intently. “Yeah, girlie, I know.”
Taking the opportunity, I make a point of my own. “You know I’m here for you, right? Anytime, if you need to talk or you need anything else. You’re not yourself anymore. I feel like I’ve lost a part of you.”
Quietly, she responds, “Thanks, Gabby. I know you’re here for me.”
“Okay, then. Where is Preston, by the way?”
She sighs big and looks out the window again. “He flew out first thing this morning for a conference all week.”
“All right. Stay for dinner. My pop called after church this morning, informing me that he is coming over tonight and further informing me that I’m making spinach manicotti with marinara—his favorite. Then he informed me that my new boyfriend had better be here. You being here will a good distraction for me, because I’m personally not looking forward to it.”
“Girl. You know I would love to witness that show, but I’m not sure my stomach can handle manicotti right now.” She sighs. “Plus, you know Preston will call and be unhappy if I’m not at home.” She shrugs as an apology.
“That’s okay, but next time I’m making you stay.” I mock threaten her.
“I can’t wait to meet him, Gabby.”
“You will soon,” I promise.
She gives me a big hug and walks out the front door. I think to myself how different she is now and how I freaking hate Preston Briggs. Closing and locking the door behind her, I yell down the stairs, “Tone, you’re staying for dinner!”
“Depends on what you’re making,” he yells back.
“Spinach manicotti.”
There’s a pause. “Is Pop coming?”
I sigh. “Yes.”
“Will Jude be here?” he asks further.
Seriously?
“Yes.” He’s on to me and knows I just want someone here to play interference. Although, now that I’m thinking this through, I am kicking myself because having Tony here could make it worse. Way worse.
I hear him laughing from the basement. “Sure thing, Gabba. It should be a fun night. I wouldn’t miss it if you paid me.”
Damn. What was I thinking? I look to the ceiling to pray for patience then move to my kitchen to start dinner.
Chapter Twelve
You Will Not Enjoy It
The water is washing over me. I’m standing with my back to Jude, one of his arms is snaked around my front, his fingers working between my legs and the other is holding me up with his hand on my breast. My hands are braced against the shower wall as my orgasm shoots through me.
“Jude,” I breathe out.
His hands leave me and go to my hips, pulling me down onto his lap. Now sitting on the shower bench, he guides himself inside me. His mouth comes to my ear from behind and he demands through the water, “Move.”
His hands at my hips lead me and I spread my legs to straddle his, leaning forward to bracing myself on his knees for support. Jude is yanking me down onto him, not taking things slow this morning.
“Touch yourself, Gabby.”
Oh, wow.
I take a hand from his knee to touch myself as Jude is pulling me down on him, it starts building.
“That’s it baby, faster.”
It’s coming again and I feel like I’m not going to be able to move anymore. He must sense this because it’s all him now. I gasp, throwing my head back to his shoulder. He yanks me down on top of him one more time and plants his face in my neck groaning. I lean into him, placing my hand on the side of this face and we sit here letting the water run over us.
“There’s nothing better than listening to you breathe my name, Gabby. Nothing,” he whispers. Squeezing me one more time, he adds, “I can’t get enough of you, baby.”
This is true.
Jude’s alarm went off at oh-dark-thirty. He rolled into me, tucking his hand under my cami and started playing with my nipples. Then his mouth came to my neck and he said, “Come shower with me. Then you can come back to bed.”
How could I say no to that?
He lifts me, standing me up while turning me around and pushes me under the water. I feel his hands on my head as he works shampoo into my hair and it feels so good, I put my hands on his waist, leaning my forehead into his chest to lean on him. Pushing me back, he rinses it out, tips my head up to him and kisses me softly.