Page 20 of Wanted

Jude’s throat works over a strong swallow. A silence stretches between us. If I look closely, it almost seems like his lips are moving with soundless words. He briefly closes his eyes, and when he opens them, they’re steely with determination.

“You’re coming home with me.”

His shocking declaration nearly prompts me to my feet. If only my tired body wasn’t so comfortable in this bed.

“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think? You haven’t even taken me to dinner yet.” I grin.

The stoic man does an incredible job holding back the barest hint of amusement. Either he finds me entirely unfunny or he has one hell of a poker face.

It has to be the latter because I am a damn comedian.

“I’ll feed you when we get there,” he says.

“Oh, I was joking.”

“Think I told you already I don’t joke.”

“All right, don’t lose your head. It’s quite nice to look at,” I tease. “You can take me home. I’ll even let you put me to bed.”

There are a million reasons to stand and fight for my independence, but when I have nothing but a stained dress to my name, I’d be stupid to turn him down. I’m no damsel, but I’m already headed for rock bottom. I don’t need to rush to find it.

5

Jude

I’m a man with many faults and mistakes to my name, but this has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

Bleeding fucking heart.

Apparently, my need to rescue everything with a pulse extends beyond needy dogs.

The phone at my ear rings twice before my mom’s voice comes over the line. I stare at my boots as I stand in the corner of the waiting room.

“Hey, Jude.”

“Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”

“Good. Your brother is about to bring me to the nursery. I want to browse for new flowers for my front planters since the sun is finally starting to melt this snow.”

“Which brother?” I ask and lean a shoulder against the solid wall at my back.

“Lee. Who else?”

Lee’s always the first one to take on Mom’s tasks, not that the rest of us don’t pitch in. She blessed us each with a safe home, and we try to return the favor as best as we can.

“Something the matter?” she asks.

I shouldn’t be surprised she correctly interprets my silence as a need. She might not have known me from birth, but she knows me just about better than anyone. Excluding myself. My palm finds the back of my neck.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask if you might have room for a friend for a couple of days?”

“Is this about the girl you brought to the hospital?”

I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “How do you know about that?”

“Jack said Whitney mentioned it to him.”

Of course she did. My eyes find the vacant desk of my meddling soon-to-be sister-in-law.

---