Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

Her eyes open and she inhales, as if suddenly snapping back to the same reality.

I force myself to pick up the clippers again, shaking my head.

She turns, smiling, and kisses my cheek, making my breath catch. She’s so fucking tempting, but—no. Being late would make a shitty first impression. She walks out of the room, slightly flushed, and I adjust myself in my jeans, heaving a deep sigh at my reflection.

Dear God, this woman does things to me.

* * *

“Jude, darling, you’re so tall… Can you reach to attach this corner?” Lynn hands me a strand of twisted silver garland and gestures to one corner of the kitchen ceiling. “You’ll save me from having to get the stepladder out.” She smooths down her chin-length gray hair; the salt and pepper color still carries a hint of dark brown. My eyes shift between the two MacMillan women and I smile. Lynn looks like an older, shorter version of Olena.

“Sure, no problem,” I say, easily reaching up to tack the decoration in place.

Olena watches from Lynn’s side with a smirk, waiting to hand me a paper flamingo decoration next.

“Sorry we didn’t get these up ahead of time, sweetheart,” Lynn says to Olena. “I’ve been running around all day trying to get the food ready, and your dad lost track of time fixing the back fence all afternoon.”

“Well, you’ve pulled it off, Lynn,” I say. “The food smells amazing.”

She waves a dismissive hand at the compliment. “Ah, it’s nothing fancy.”

“So, what’s the deal with all the flamingos, anyway?” I ask, securing the pink paper bird to the corner of the ceiling where the garland ends.

“I know they’re really kitschy,” Olena explains, wrinkling her nose. “But when I was little, I went through this phase of being obsessed with flamingos. I can’t remember which came first—Marchmas or the flamingos—but eventually they were just… part of the holiday.” She shrugs. “Like a mascot, I guess.”

“I think they’re fun!” Lynn exclaims, smoothing her hands over the front of her novelty apron, on which a pair of flamingos pose with heads bent together in a heart shape.

Olena’s father, David, opens the back door onto the patio and looks up at the sky, squinting at the fading evening light. “You know, I think it might rain on us,” he says, stepping back into the kitchen and running a hand over his graying beard. “Jude, do you mind handing me the meat and veg there?” He gestures at the counter next to me.

I pass him the tray of skewered chicken and vegetables, then return to my decorating duties.

“Shoot, really?” Lynn asks. “Do you think we should cook them in the oven instead?” She places her hands on her hips and frowns, considering the options.

“Nah, Lynn. What kind of West Coast wimp would I be to shy away from a little sprinkle?” David grins proudly. “The show must go on!” He winks at his wife and heads outside to the barbecue.

This is nice. I’ve missed the organized chaos of family get-togethers. It feels good to help out—and to be included. And I’m definitely not complaining about getting a home-cooked meal that I don’t have to prepare myself.

Standing near the kitchen sink, Olena untangles another strand of garland and rolls her eyes at her father. “Dad takes his barbecue duties very seriously,” she explains quietly, handing it to me to hang up.

I chuckle to myself, remembering that my dad was the same way. I bet Dad would have gotten along with David. Damn, I miss him.

“They’ll taste better barbecued anyway,” Wyatt chimes in from the stove, where he’s whisking a sauce in a small pan. He fell right into step with Olena’s parents the moment he’d arrived, joining them in the kitchen to get the food ready.

I tack up another flamingo, then move to Olena’s side and jerk my head toward the door. “So, does the rain thing run in the family or…?” I ask under my breath so only she can hear me. I quirk an eyebrow at her as I reach for another flamingo from the counter beside her.

“Jude!” She gives me a gentle swat on the arm, and I recoil with a quiet laugh.

“Is there anything else I can help with?” I offer, turning to Lynn as I tack up the last of the decorations.

“Not at all, darling!” she replies with a kind smile. “Just relax and enjoy.”

“You sure? Because I can chop a mean potato, and I’m not afraid to do it.” I rub my hands together and she laughs.

“Oh? Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Lynn says, her eyebrows rising above the frames of her dark-rimmed glasses. “Someone’s got to feed this girl.” She gestures with a serving spoon in Olena’s direction.

“Mom!” Olena laughs and flushes slightly.

I smile and reach for my beer on the counter behind her, then lean against the sink, my arm brushing against hers.