Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

“Then why’d you agree to go out with him in the first place?” he presses.

“Does that matter? I told you it was a mistake. Can we just forget about it?” I know I wish I could.

“Just humor me.” His voice is calm. He doesn’t sound jealous or territorial, but curious, like he’s found a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit.

“Okay…” I breathe and pause to reflect. “I guess I didn’t know what I wanted. I felt like I should get out there and try dating after I moved back here… and he offered, so I said yes. He seemed nice enough when we were chatting online. I thought maybe an art gallery could be interesting… that maybe I could blend in with the fancy crowd. I don’t know. Obviously, I was naïve to think that.” I look down at my hands.

Jude scoffs. “You don’t have to do that, you know.” He pulls the keys out of the ignition and turns away from me, climbing out of the truck.

Confused by his reaction, I don’t immediately follow. What the hell? Then, realizing I’m sitting in his truck alone in the dark, I cautiously climb out of the passenger seat.

He unlocks the front door for Murphy, who’s been lounging on one of the porch benches. Murphy briefly raises his head to look at Jude before pushing up and slowly stretching. He hops down from the bench and heads into the house, apparently content to avoid the human drama unfolding outside.

Jude paces on the front porch.

I walk over to him, hugging my arms across my chest. “What do you mean I ‘don’t have to do that’? Do what?” I ask, thoroughly bewildered.

He runs his hands through his hair and lets out a breath. “You don’t have to shrink yourself to fit into someone else’s story, Olena. You don’t have to keep apologizing for existing.”

His words hit me in the gut. “I’m not apologizing for existing. I don’t know. I just make bad choices, I guess. I’m not fancy or put-together or successful. I don’t have my shit together, okay?”

He looks almost angry.

“Why does it matter?” I ask again, frustrated. “It was just one date.” I don’t understand why he’s stuck on this.

Jude puts his hands on his hips. “That prick didn’t deserve one date with you.”

“I don’t know about that, I mean, I’m not perfect either, I—”

In a few strides, Jude is in front of me, grabbing me by the shoulders, pulling me in close. “Bullshit,” he whispers, silhouetted by the dim porch light behind him.

I can feel his breath on my face and the heat from his body pressing against mine. I turn my head away, trying to avoid his words.

He slides his hands up the sides of my neck and gently raises my face to look up into the darkness of his own. “You’re incredible. It kills me that you can’t see how brilliant you are.”

I look down. “No, I’m not. I’m a total mess.”

“Stop it,” he says abruptly.

I meet his eyes. “Stop what?”

“Talking about yourself like that!” He releases me from his grasp and turns back to the porch, looking exasperated. He circles back to me, looking as if he’s weighing what to say next. “Do you know why I left in such a hurry that first day at the property?”

I shake my head, confused, watching him closely.

“Because I looked at your portfolio, Olena, and it blew me away. Your work was…” He looks like he can’t find the words. “You’re an incredible designer.”

“I don’t understand.” I watch him warily.

“Look. Even from the moment I first saw you, when you were shouting at me on the side of the road, soaking wet, calling me an asshole…”

I look down in shame and he steps closer.

“You were beautiful.”

I close my eyes.

He reaches a hand to my cheek. “Olena.”