Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

I look at him in a daze. “Whatever you think makes sense?”

He nods, dropping one of them into his basket, before moving on to squeeze an avocado from a nearby display.

I stuff my hands deep in the pockets of my sweater and follow him. The grocery store’s fluorescent lighting is too bright; the aisles of vibrant products are upsettingly cheerful, and I squint.

My stomach rumbles. On the way past the deli, I grab a pre-made sandwich and fiddle with the plastic edge of the clear container as we make our way through the store. Wyatt picks up a can of white beans and a bottle of sauce with a name I can’t pronounce on the label.

We queue up behind a few other customers at the front of the store. To pass the time, I read the headlines on the terrible magazine covers near the checkout. “Wyatt, look, a celebrity has had a relationship development!” I say in a jaded deadpan, pointing at one of them.

“No way, that is shocking information,” he replies dryly, then picks up a different magazine from the display. “Oh, look, this celebrity has a different sized body than previously!”

“Oooh,” I intone sarcastically. “What’s their secret?”

“Oh, wow, handsome man alert,” he says in a hushed tone.

I’m still looking down at the magazine I’ve picked up, flipping through the pages with distant interest. “Yeah, I mean, but they’re celebrities. Is that really shocking?” My eyes linger on the glossy pages in front of me.

“No, Olena, real life.” He tugs at my sleeve. “Real life hot guy. In the floral department.” He’s still speaking quietly so the other customers won’t hear us.

I look up and Wyatt dramatically jerks his eyes over my right shoulder. I turn around and my stomach drops.

Jude is standing at the floral counter, putting his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.

Frozen, I watch as he picks up a bouquet of flowers and heads for the door. When my body finally clues in that he might see me, I duck down behind the magazines so I’m hidden from view. My mind and heart are both racing and my face flushes.

Wyatt’s voice sounds confused. “Wait, do you know him?” Then realization lands. “Wait, is that him? That’s your hunky lumberjack?” He pulls me up to standing, his eyes shifting between a few nearby customers with an apologetic smile; people are starting to stare.

A glance at the door confirms Jude is gone. I hug my arms over my chest protectively and Wyatt puts an arm around me, pressing a kiss to my head.

“More ice cream when we get home?” he asks softly.

I close my eyes.

* * *

I spend Sunday in a numbed state, scrolling on my phone and trying not to fixate on who those flowers were for.

It doesn’t matter, I remind myself. He’s clearly got some other woman in his life. Even though he said he didn’t have a girlfriend, he could be dating someone casually. Or maybe he lied. I barely know him, after all. I have no right to be jealous or hurt. Still, the sting of seeing him buying flowers for someone else leaves an ache in my gut that I can’t shake.

The image of Jude’s regretful look after Teddy drove away on Friday flashes into my mind and I wince. We should probably pack up, he’d said.

More like wrap it up. Shut it down. We’re done here.

It’s late when I finally shuffle to my bedroom and take stock of what I need to deal with before work tomorrow. I try to push down the dread of seeing Jude again and focus on my job. Standing in my sweats with my hair in a sloppy bun that falls halfway off my head, I rifle through my work bag. I pull out my notebook and a bundle of paperwork, and settle onto my bed to look through it all. I remind myself about the deliveries coming in this week, including the swing and furniture for the seating areas, stones for the fire pit, and the ceramic planters. Listing the items and their delivery dates in the notebook so I can keep track in one place, I remember I’ll also need to be there to speak with the electrician and the irrigation company…

My thoughts swim together and I find it hard to keep everything straight. The emotions of Friday curl their claws into me, sapping my mental energy. I put down my pen and sigh deeply, rubbing my face with both hands. I’m so exhausted and frustrated… and I hate that I can’t stop thinking about Jude. I cringe again, remembering those moments when I flirted with him so blatantly, thinking he felt what I felt. I was so wrong.

My phone rings and I jump, whipping my head to look at the screen with resentment. Frustration quickly boils into anger when the words “withheld number” pop up on my screen.

Fuck it. I answer. “Hello?”

“Olena, finally.” Sean’s voice pulls me back in time and I feel ill.

“What do you want, Sean?” I’m agitated. I stand and start pacing.

“I just want to talk to you. Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“Look, we broke up. I moved home. I need you to stop trying to contact me.” We agreed he wouldn’t.