Page 55 of Wilde Nights in Paradise

“You know, we haven’t done it on a table yet.”

“The pool table counts.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You’re nuts.”

“Yeah, I am. Thanks for noticing.” Finishing off the final bite of pie, he licked his fork clean, and then began gathering their plates. “Dining table. I’ll have to keep it in mind for another time, but right now I’m so full the only thing I want to do with you is nap.”

“I’m so on board with that idea.” But, wow, moving anywhere seemed like a chore. “Except you’ll have to carry me to the bedroom.”

From the kitchen behind her, he gave ayeah rightsnort.

“So is that a no?”

Jude didn’t answer. In fact, she didn’t hear anything from him, no shuffling, no water running over their dishes in the sink. She started to turn to see what he was up to now and found him standing beside her, a cell phone shoved toward her face. She blinked when he dropped it into her hand. It appeared to be midcall, the timer on the screen ticking off seconds as she frowned at it, then up at him.

“What’s this?”

He simply nodded and motioned for her to lift it to her ear.

Confused, she did so and—

At the sound of her mother’s voice on the other end of the line, instant tears blurred her vision. “Mom?”

Oh God. Her parents. He’d called her parents!

Eyes wide, she stared at him in shock. The nerve of the man, standing there grinning like a maniac, all proud of himself for breaking his own rules. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and hug him. The nerve.

And also the heart.

God, he had so much heart it was a wonder it all fit inside his chest.

Libby turned her focus to her mother’s excited chattering. After a few minutes, her father came on the line, less excited but definitely happy to talk to her. Although, as usual, he tried to hide it under a gruff facade. In deference to her safety, it was a short conversation and saying good-bye to them was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but when she hung up the phone, all of the sadness that had been weighing her down this past week had vanished.

Phone still in hand, she turned in her chair and watched Jude as he scrubbed at a stubborn pan in the sink. His jeans hung low on his hips, and he’d taken off the shirt he’d donned before dinner, probably to keep it from getting wet. His muscles flexed with the work, making his tattoo dance along his spine.

Slowly, Libby stood and crossed the kitchen to his side. She touched his arm. “Can please I see it? Your tattoo?”

Exhaling hard, he looked over at her, held her gaze for a long moment.

“Are you ashamed of it?” She couldn’t think of another reason why he’d be so sensitive about it.

“No. Never.” For some reason, his gaze dropped to the cell phone still in her hand, and he stared at it like it was going to give him answers to all of life’s hardest questions. Finally, he shrugged, dried off his hands on a towel, and gave her his back. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she feared he’d shy away and she’d never find out what his tattoo said. She kept her hands to herself and read the words he’d thought important enough to ink permanently into his skin.

Meredith, my love…

She jerked backward in shock. A love letter. He had tattooed alove letterto his spine. Her throat worked, but for a long moment, she couldn’t produce any sound around the surge of pain that froze her vocal chords.

“Who’s Meredith?” she finally choked.

“My mother.”

All the air left her lungs in a burst that was too close to a relieved sob for comfort. “Your mother.” She reached out with trembling fingers and traced the outline of the ballet slippers hanging from one side of the broken angel wings. It was so obvious that she wondered why she hadn’t she made the connection sooner. His mother was a dancer. And the dog tags on the other half of the wings? His father had been career Army.

A memorial to the parents he’d loved and lost far too soon.

“The words—” He stopped, cleared his throat. “My father wrote them. His wedding vow to her.”

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