Выбрать главу

He sat up and she sat up with him. Kissing her, he said, “You’re gonna be my wife.”

“I am, but not if you don’t get out of here now.”

He rubbed his erection against her leg and glanced at the clock by her bed. “It’s four thirty-seven. We have time. I’ll be quick.”

“I don’t want you to ever be quick. I want it long and slow, hard and passionate.”

“It will be all those things, except slow. C’mon, I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

The sound of baby rolling off his tongue so easily when referring to her made her heart cartwheel in happiness, but he needed to go or happy would be the opposite of what she would feel. She pushed him gently, and said, “You need to go. We’ve got plans to make and I need you alive to make them.”

With a heavy sigh, he got up. “I’ll go, but I’m coming for you, Jude Boehler, and I’m never letting you go again.”

“Swear?”

“I swear to you. Never letting you go again.”

When he was fully dressed, he kissed her goodbye at her bedroom door and then she led him to the foyer downstairs. But she couldn’t let him go without another so she took him by the shirt and pulled him to her again. Planting her lips on his, his hand went into her hair at the back of her head. They leaned their foreheads together before he kissed her there.

A light was flicked on overhead, and a woman’s accented voice said, “Good morning, Judith.”

Jude’s heart stopped at a standstill in her chest. Taylor looked at the woman in her robe staring at them as Jude’s hand fell away from him. Nadia added, “Mr. Barrett.”

“Good Morning,” he replied, not sure if he should say anything at all.

Nadia eyed Jude before turning her full attention on Taylor. “I suggest you go before the house wakes.” She walked past him and started opening the door.

Jude stood, terrified. Taylor brushed his hand against hers, and whispered, “I’ll see you soon.” When she finally looked him in the eyes, he smiled at her. “I promise.”

She nodded and watched him go.

Nadia added, “Good day, Mr. Barrett.”

He glanced back once, then headed outside. The door shut and Nadia tightened the belt of her robe before turning back. Her hair hung down and her face was clean of makeup. Jude had never noticed how pretty Nadia was before. She assumed because she didn’t tend to notice such niceties about her enemies. “You should go upstairs, Judith, and don’t come down until you’re dressed and ready for the day. I suspect today will be a long one.” She passed her and went back down the hall from where she came.

Jude remained, her heart now beating wildly in her chest. Then she ran as fast as she could up the stairs and into her room. She shut the door quietly behind her and leaned against it until she caught her breath. Seeing the pallet they had made, the place where they made love, and commitments of forever, made her smile so big that she flopped down on it and hugged the pillow to her chest. When she took a deep breath she caught the scent of her forever still lingering. She curled around the pillow and closed her eyes, wanting to live in this bliss until she could be with her Hazel again.

JUDE SAT AT the other end of the table from her stepfather. Her mother flanked his side, but her place had been sequestered four seats down. This had been where she and her brother had always been relegated, but since he died, she sat down there alone. Some mornings Isla sat by her. This morning Isla wasn’t here. She hadn’t returned from her night out.

After her glass was filled with orange juice, she picked it up and moved her entire place setting down the table until she was across from her mother and next to her stepfather who sat at the head of the table. “What are you doing?” he asked before eating his toast.

“I don’t want to sit alone.” She eyed the juice wondering if that’s how they were drugging her.

Her mother put her coffee cup down and smiled at her daughter. “How was your night, Judith? I heard the Stevens and Barrett boys took you and Isla out. That must have been a nice change.”

“It was. About Taylor,” Jude started.

Her stepfather put his tablet down, and said, “Who’s Taylor?”

Jude tried to hide her nerves by eating and reached for her fork. “Taylor Barrett.”

“Oh,” he replied.

Her mother said, “He seemed nice at the Stevens’s dinner.” She lowered her voice as if Taylor would hear her. “So sad about his illness.”

The forked strawberry touching Jude’s lips was lowered as she raised her eyes to her mother. “What do you mean?”

Her stepfather was agitated. “Can you save the gossip for when I’m gone?” He set his fork down and finished his coffee as her mother watched him and Jude stared at her mother. He stood and walked away from the table. As soon as he was gone from the dining room, Jude, feeling sick to her stomach, asked, “What do you mean sad about his illness? What illness?”

Her mother picked up her coffee cup again and signaled for Nadia, who came and refilled it. Nadia’s eyes were on Jude, the exchange between them one of caution. Surely Jude was misreading her, but she didn’t care about that right then. “Mother?”

“Yes, Judith. Let me get my coffee. The Barrett boy—”

“Stop calling him that. His name is Taylor.”

“What has gotten into you today? She set her cup down and looked exasperated. He has Parkinson’s.”

“What? Parkinson’s? No.” She shook her head. “I thought you had to be older…” She knew nothing of Parkinson’s disease other than the obvious—tremors. She had never seen him tremor.

“Yes. I’m pretty sure that’s what his parents told us at dinner. He was in and out of hospitals for a few months until they gained an accurate diagnosis.” She lowered her voice again as if they were conspiratorial sisters. “That’s when his fiancée cheated on him with his friend.” She made a face of distaste. “Such a scandal. I almost wish we would have known them then. It would have made tea time much more interesting.”

Jude sat there, staring at her, staring through her.

“Are you not feeling well, darling?”

Jude snapped her gaze down. Though she was hesitant to drink anything she had not served herself, she drank her juice to coat her drying throat, Hazel’s words echoing in her head. “I promise to love you always. I promise to protect you all of my days, my entire life.” Then her words. “Your lifeline is too short.”

“I had no idea. How is he? What did his parents say?”

“You tell me. How was he last night?”

Blissful. Romantic. Handsome. Sexual. Marry me? She pushed her plate away. “He was happy.”

Her mother smiled. “Well, that’s nice. Maybe it doesn’t bother him anymore.”

Jude became impatient and stood up. “I don’t think Parkinson’s works like that, Mother.”

“His mother, Betsy, asked me to co-chair a fundraiser for research in June. I think I’ll accept. I’ve been bored with the usual charities.”

Holding back what she really wanted to say, Jude said, “Charities aren’t for entertainment. They’re important in raising awareness and funds. But since you’re bored and all…”

“Jude?” her mother called after her.

Jude stopped under the arched doorway, her hands on the molding. She turned around and asked, “What?”

With her back to Jude, she asked, “What is that ring you’re wearing?”

There was nothing believable Jude could say, so she didn’t say anything at all. Just as she turned to leave, her mother added, “I married your father for love.”

Turning back around, Jude asked the question she had always wondered, “Why did you marry Brewster?”

“For security.” Her mother turned to meet her only daughter’s eyes and asked, “What will you marry for?”