Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

“But you know what I realized? I’m so fucking sick of being scared all the time. And I’m sick of that script. I’m done, Jude. I am done trying to hide and shrink and mold myself into what other people want from me. Or what I think they want, anyway. I’m allowed to have baggage and I’m allowed to fuck up…” She looks away, taking a deep breath, before meeting my gaze again. “And I don’t need you, or Nat, or Wyatt, or anyone else to save me.” She stops, looking like she’s carefully guarding against what I’ll say in response.

I look at her for a long moment. “Good,” I say simply, exhaling hard around the obstruction in my throat.

She startles at my unexpected response. “What do you mean, good? I thought—”

“I don’t want you to need me.” I look up at the sky and shake my head.

“What?” she breathes, furrowing her brow.

I meet her tearful eyes. “I don’t want you to need me, Olena,” I say again, quieter this time. I take a step closer. “I want you to want me.”

She shudders out a breath, her eyes searching mine.

I reach out, sliding my hands over her arms.

She closes her eyes at my touch and takes a deep breath before meeting my gaze again.

I continue, moving in closer, my voice low. “The way I want you. So badly it’s killing me. Seeing you at work and knowing you’ll leave without me at the end of the day. Knowing I won’t have you in my bed at night. Or wake up next to you in the morning.” I blink back my own emotion as my eyes dip down to her lips. I look back at her tear-filled eyes. “Olena, it feels like there’s this gaping hole in my life where you used to fit.” I take a deep, steadying breath.

She looks at me in disbelief. “Jude…”

The police cruiser pulls slowly out of the driveway with Sean locked in the backseat. As it disappears from view, I meet her gaze again. “Olena, you don’t owe me every detail about your past. We’ve known each other, what, a month?” I smooth a hand over my chin and laugh wryly at the realization: how quickly things have moved between us in that short time.

A hint of a smile tugs at her lips.

“And I can see that you don’t need my help. Clearly. You were… fucking incredible today.” I shake my head, still in awe of what she did. “Messy baggage and all—and God knows I’ve got my own—that shit doesn’t scare me, okay?”

She nods, and the last of the police cars pulls onto the road, leaving us in the quiet of the night.

“So, you might not need my help, but it’s here if you want it. I’m here. For you.” My brows knit together as I try to get the words out. “I want to know these things about you.” I reach a hand to her face, brushing my thumb over her cheek.

Her eyes close and she exhales softly.

I brush the hair back from her forehead and she looks up at me again. “I want to know everything about you.” I smile down at her. “Even the hard stuff. Even the scary stuff. Especially the scary stuff.” I raise my eyebrows.

A slight grimace crosses her features at the reminder of what she didn’t tell me. She nods again.

“And speaking of scary stuff… I owe you an apology too.” I take a deep breath. “I should never have walked out on you when you were in danger.” My voice is low in my throat. “That’s not what you do when you love somebody.”

She sucks in a breath and her eyes widen, searching mine. “What?” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.

“Olena…” My heart aches looking at her: this beautiful, strong, incredible woman. I reach up to cradle her face in my hands, my fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck. I lean down, my lips inches from hers. “I love you,” I breathe, smiling.

Her brown eyes brim with tears once again.

The blanket falls to the ground as she rises up to kiss me hard, her hands clutching at my shirt, pulling me close. As our kiss softens and she pulls back, her expression is a mixture of relief and pain. The emotion of everything that’s happened between us spills over her features and she slides her arms around my waist, sagging into my embrace.

I hold her as she cries softly against my chest. The feeling of my arms around her again brings me such relief; I close my eyes and try to keep it together.

“I love you too,” she says against my chest.

I exhale a jagged breath and smile. Rubbing her arms, I rest my chin on her head. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.”

47

OLENA

“Bad news,” I call out over the sound of the washing machine. I’m skimming an article on my phone, the screen’s bluish glow and the dim bedside lamp providing the only light in Jude’s bedroom.