Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

“We’re going to be working together here. I wanna see what you’ve got up your sleeve.” He raises his eyebrows, hand still outstretched.

I reluctantly turn around and open the passenger door to retrieve the book, feeling Jude’s eyes locked on my movements. Turning back to him, I cautiously hand it over.

His silence as he flips through the before and after photos of my past projects unnerves me and I find myself needing to fill the air yet again with my infernal talking.

“I was surprised Charles didn’t ask to see it, to be honest; I didn’t realize he’d already made up his mind about hiring me,” I offer.

He gives a soft grunt in response, focusing fully on the photos.

The truth is, I have no idea what makes Charles so sure I can do this project; his blind trust makes me uncomfortable. Why did he choose me instead of someone else? Why didn’t he ask Jude to recommend whatever designer he normally works with? Maybe he’s just doing Wyatt a favor by hiring me. But, then again, this property is massive and the work will be long. And expensive. Charles seems wiser than that. Hiring just anybody for a job this big would be a huge risk.

Jude’s expression is unreadable as he looks through my work.

I feel vulnerable with my creative choices under his scrutinizing gaze. I find myself hoping he’s pleased with what he sees.

As he peruses my portfolio, I look around me at the trees and out at the cliff-side vista, absentmindedly twisting the ends of my hair between my fingers. I’m not sure what else to say or do with myself as he takes his time judging my work. Judging me.

Please hurry up, I plead silently.

“Nice work.” He tosses the casual comment my way with a blank expression and closes the book, holding it out to me. I take my portfolio, hugging it protectively against my chest.

“Oh, thanks,” I say with uncertainty.

Nice work? That’s it? I’m not sure what I was expecting. Not for the first time today, I can’t figure this man out.

“Listen, I’ve gotta run,” he adds, turning again to his truck, pulling open the door and climbing in. He rummages around for something beside him, then looks at me through the open window. “Here,” he reaches a hand toward me, proffering his business card. “I guess we’ll need a way to be in touch with each other.”

I hesitate a beat before tentatively reaching up to take the card. “Right. Thanks,” I reply, suddenly self-conscious. He’s rushing out of here like he can’t wait to put some distance between us.

“Great. See you soon.” He throws me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Then, before I can respond, he quickly starts the truck and pulls off down the treed driveway, disappearing around the bend.

I stand there another moment, staring after him with my mouth hanging slightly open, until I hear his truck’s engine roar onto the roadway.

Stunned and confused by Jude’s abrupt departure, I climb into the driver’s seat and let out a long breath. I drop the business card into the cup holder next to my scribbled paper directions.

Frowning, I open the damned protein bar.

7

JUDE

Glancing in the rear-view mirror as I pull out of the driveway, my eyes linger on Olena’s quickly receding form, frozen in place beside the yellow Jetta, my business card in her hand. My hasty exit was probably not my smoothest or most professional move, I realize with a grimace. If there hadn’t just been a downpour, I would have literally left her in my dust. You know, like an asshole.

I run a hand through my hair and blow out a long breath, stretching my neck from side to side as I grip the steering wheel. Shake it off, Sharpe, I think to myself with a frown. You have a job to do.

I turn on the radio. The weather forecast is wrapping up.

“More rain to come,” the voice says.

A flash of memory from the roadside hits me: Olena’s soaking wet jacket, her hair and face dripping as she gives me hell in the rain. Explain yourself, her voice echoes in my mind, her eyes so full of fire. I find myself smiling.

Later, watching her as we toured the property with Charles, she was much more reserved. Even slightly awkward. She was obviously thrown off by finding me there after having chewed me out so thoroughly on the side of the road. I have to admit, it had been satisfying to watch her scramble to apologize and explain. I enjoyed watching her squirm.

I wonder what else might make her squirm…

Get your mind out of the gutter, my rational brain reminds me. She’s probably got a boyfriend anyway. I try to shut down the lewd images served up by my animal brain. God, I must be hard up. It’s not usually this difficult to shake off attraction. Must be because it’s been months since I’ve been with anyone. I guess I haven’t scratched that itch in a while.

The inane banter of the radio personalities starts to grate on my nerves and I turn off the chatter. I open the window for some fresh air and take a deep breath. The cool wind whipping into the cab is refreshing, helping to clear my head. And I need a clear head. I need to focus on the job. What I don’t need is anything complicating my work. Or my life, for that matter.