Page 23 of You Had Me at Chocolate

Seeing her again felt right.

Sitting here with her felt right. And not a lot had felt right in his life for some time. So, he sure as hell didn’t want to screw this up because he was inconveniently… attracted to his one-time best friend. Clem had become Clementine—a woman, not a girl.

The impact of which he’d stupidly not factored in to the equation.

Unfortunately, the movie eventually came to an end, as did his ability to ignore her presence. She stretched as the credits rolled and hell if his peripheral vision didn’t suddenly come alive with the languorous movement.

“That was good,” she said on a little sigh.

Her voice was low and sleepy and wound fingers around Jude’s middle. He nodded and forced him to half turn so he was facing her. “Yes.” Casually tipping his head to the side, Jude rested his temple against the couch cushion.

She sent him a goofy smile and his breath hitched. A curl had fallen down to brush her eyelashes and a strong urge to reach out and pull on it hijacked his sensibilities. In his mind’s eye, he could see himself do it, see his fingers trailing down her cheek to her jaw, see her smile slowly fade as her eyes grew all smoky and her breathing turned husky.

Thankfully, she yawned and he grabbed hold of that with both hands, flicking the TV off with the remote. “You should go to bed, you’re done in.”

“Yeah.” Her smile widened a little. “I am. Too done in to move. Your lovely food and the wine and the fire have relaxed me to the point of paralysis.”

He chuckled to cover for the image swirling in his head—him carrying her into her bedroom. “You can always sleep here. The couch is comfy and I can grab a blanket for you.”

Rising, he went to grab one for her—for his sanity if nothing else—but she grabbed his hand as he passed by halting him as quickly as if she’d stuck him with a cattle prod.

“It’s fine,” she dismissed, tugging on his hand. “I want to sleep in my own bed. I’ll go in a minute. Stay and talk to me for a bit. About you. I’m sick of talking about my stuff.”

Jude forced himself to smile as he sat, closer than was desirable because she was guiding him down next to her, their hands still clasped. But, it would have been rude to remove it, right? Once he was seated she let go and he quickly withdrew from her touch but they were too close for his liking. Close enough to see the orange glow playing in her curls and across her face. Close enough to touch.

Too close for the illicit messages being whispered by his libido.

“How are your mom and dad?” she asked.

“They’re the same. You know Mom’s moved into an under-sixties resort like only Florida can do and loving it. Dad is still in Orlando, working for the city and obsessed with his bird watching.”

“Neither of them remarried?”

“No.” Which had surprised the hell out of him. As a twelve-year-old he had mentally prepared himself for a stepparent. Or two. “My mom tells me the village where she lives is a hot bed of sex and parties though.” He grimaced at the memory of that conversation.

Clementine laughed. “You don’t approve?”

“I couldn’t care less. Good luck to her. I’d just prefer not to hear the finer details of any liaisons.”

She laughed again. “I know, right? Why do parents think it’s hilarious to talk about their sex lives in front of their adult children?”

Jude laughed too, even though the last thing he wanted to be talking about—thinking about—was sex. “I have no idea. But they do.”

Still grinning, she asked, “Do they have a good relationship now or is it still rocky?”

“It took quite a few years but they’re good now. In fact, they’ve never been this good. They’re both just… happier. Which makes their relationship happier.”

“That’s great. My parents are still—” She bugged her eyes. “Deliriously happy.” But then her smiled slipped and she sobered as she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her gaze met his. “I was so scared, Jude. Seeing Mom… like that…”

“I can only imagine,” he murmured, his gaze raking her face, seeing the shadow of fear lurking in her eyes.

“I mean… she drives me batty sometimes. She hasn’t been particularly supportive of me traveling or moving to New York. But she’s… the captain of our team, you know? She ran her parents’ dairy farm single-handed after my grandfather died when she was fifteen until Grammy sold up five years later. She’s so strong and yet…”

“Hey,” Jude said as her voice trailed off, pulling her back from the dark abyss of what ifs. “Her strength is a good thing. She’s going to need that.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I reckon it’s why she’s still here.”

“Reckon so, too.”

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