Page 72 of The One I Stood Beside

“What am I missing?” I fight Sadie’s tugging on my arm.

“Jude?” my dad’s voice says. The back door opens, and my dad steps out without a shirt on.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I say, my feet planted on the ground.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sadie

“Will you two get in here?” Bruce walks right back through the screen door and into my parents’ house.

Jude’s eyebrows raise, and I walk past him.

“I don’t want to know,” Jude murmurs, but he follows me into the house.

My mom is at the stove, cutting up boiled eggs, a jar of mayonnaise next to her. Bruce is now at the table with a tall glass of iced tea in front of him. Still no shirt on, but at least he’s wearing jeans.

“I don’t want to open my eyes.” Jude has his arm slung over his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t?”

I assume that question is for Bruce.

“Stop being immature. You’re thirty-four, for heaven’s sake.” Bruce isn’t one to put up with antics, although Emmett gets away with a lot of crap.

I pull Jude’s arm down from shielding his eyes, and he cracks one eye open to make sure it’s safe.

“Can you please put on a shirt?” Jude says to his dad.

“Sorry, it was a rough morning. That’s why I’m in my nightshirt. Last night drained all my energy,” my mom says.

“We don’t want details.” I look between the two of them.

“Get your heads out of the gutter.” Bruce gets up and disappears down the hall.

I turn to my mother. “Mom. Dad’s only been gone for?—”

“Sadie Ann. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“But—”

“We did not sleep together.” Bruce is putting on his plaid shirt as he walks back into the room.

“Go ahead and button that thing,” Jude says.

“Then what’s going on?” I ask, confused about this entire scene unfolding in front of me.

“Bruce is redoing the porch, putting in a ramp to make it easier for me to get in and out of the house. And I’m making him an egg salad sandwich for lunch.” She lifts the bowl and shoots us a fake smile.

“Oh.” My shoulders sag with guilt and maybe a little relief.

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you think I’d do that to your father.” Mom spoons out a heap of mayo and drops it into the bowl.

“And one of my good friends,” Bruce doubles down on making us feel guilty.

“Maybe if your Sunday Fundays weren’t so blatant, Dad, we wouldn’t be assuming.” Jude crosses his arms.

“Why are you two here? You should be in bed,” Mom says.

I glance at Jude with a mortified expression. Although, he did just give me an earth-shaking orgasm a half hour ago. “I’m packing.”

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