Page 56 of Wilde Nights in Paradise

“Jude,” she breathed and circled around to face him, but he was staring at the floor. She always accused him of being childish, all that time never forgetting that he was very much a man. But in this moment, he looked so much like the vulnerable child he must have once been, and she wanted nothing more than to hold him close. Comfort him. She touched his cheek and miserable blue eyes lifted, met hers, clung.

“Do you want to tell me about them?”

He shook his head.

How absurd to feel disappointed. He was obviously wrestling with a personal demon that she had no right to help him slay. His problem. His life. It shouldn’t matter to her. She’d spent eight years convincing herself it didn’t matter—thathedidn’t matter. And look how that turned out. It took only three weeks with him to negate those eight years.

Despite it all, she still loved him. Had never stopped, probably never would—and she could never tell him. The only thing permanent in Jude Wilde’s life were those tattoos. Hanging on to him would be like trying to hang on to a hummingbird as it darted from flower to flower. Unfair to them both.

On impulse, she set the cell phone on the counter and wound her arms around his waist, laid her cheek against his chest, and held him. Maybe it could only be for the space of a heartbeat, but she held on and let herself enjoy it. He returned her embrace hard, and his whole being seemed to shudder. Whether from relief or something else, she didn’t dare guess.

“I sneaked out that night,” he murmured into her hair. “The night my parents died.”

She squeezed him tighter, but kept her mouth shut. It surprised her that he’d confided even that much, and she didn’t want to seem like she was pressuring him.

“I wanted nothing more than seeJurassic Park,” he continued after a seemingly endless moment of silence. “I begged them all summer to take me to the theater, but they wouldn’t. Mom said it wasn’t a movie for a ten-year-old. Hell, she wouldn’t even let Reece watch it, and he was thirteen. It seemed so important to me at the time. So important.

“One of my friends got it on video for his birthday, and a group of us planned to sneak over to his house later that night to watch it. I’d seen Greer sneak out enough times to know exactly how it was done, so off I went in my dinosaur PJs, ready to get the shit scared out of me by T-Rex. I never considered what my parents would think when they came to tuck me in and saw my bed empty, my window open, my shoes and coat still in my closet.”

“They thought someone had taken you,” she concluded.

“Yeah. They left Greer at home with Reece and the twins and went to the police. They filed a report, then launched their own search, driving up and down the streets, calling my name, looking for any signs of me. By that point, I was already back in my room, sound asleep. Reece found me, tried to get a hold of them to tell them I was all right…but this was ‘93. Not everyone had cell phones back then.”

He stopped. Libby rubbed her cheek against his chest. “What happened to them?”

Jude blew out a long, slow breath. “They stopped at a gas station to fill up before continuing their search and walked right into an armed robbery. The gunman shot Dad in the head as he went inside to pay for the gas. Yanked Mom out of the car and shot her four times. Left her to bleed out in the parking lot and stole the car. She made it to the hospital before—before she died.”

Libby blinked back tears and held him tighter, offering the comfort she could. “Did they catch the guy?”

“No, but it didn’t matter. There was only one person responsible for their deaths.”

“Jude, no—”

“I envy you,” he said, cutting off her protest. He motioned to the cell phone. “What you have with your parents. Hell, even the fact that you still have your parents. I envy you. I always have.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Libby opened her mouth, but after that whopper of a confession, one he hadn’t meant to make, he couldn’t stay to hear whatever pity she was about to lay on him. He strode into the bedroom, needing space from her, but finding the room resonated with her essence. The faint hint of vanilla in the air from her perfume, her nightshirt folded so neatly on the end of the made bed. Even as miserable as he felt, he had to smile. Meticulous even when she’d been feeling blue—she was his opposite in almost every way. In the rare occasions when he got mopey, his apartment usually suffered for it.

Jude sat on the edge of the bed and cradled his head in his hands. Part of him wanted to hate Libby for dragging him through the muck of the past. He never let himself think about that night but, he supposed, he’d never managed to leave it behind him, either. It colored everything he’d ever done in his life. And, hell, to this day he couldn’t watchJurassic Parkwithout bawling like a baby.

Maybe it was time to face it.

The door opened a crack, and Libby peeked into the dim room, the light from the hallway creating a halo effect around her golden hair. After a moment of indecision, she came inside, shut the door, and moved to stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Fuck. Who knew two little words could pack such a punch? Appalled that his vision had gone blurry, he snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her toward him, burying his face in the soft fabric of her T-shirt over her belly.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” Her fingers sifted through his hair, trailed down the back of his neck and spine. Pleasurable goose bumps swept over his skin.

Her name left his lips on a groan, and as he tilted his face up, her lips descended on his. He parted his knees, inviting her to step into him, wanting her closer, needing her closer. Funny how just a moment ago, he’d thought he needed some time alone, but he’d been so ridiculously wrong about that. He didn’t need space. All he needed was her. He had a sinking feeling that she was all he’d ever need. She was definitely all he’d ever wanted, but he’d learned long ago that yearning for something he would never be able to have was pointless. All they had was this fling. This night. Possibly tomorrow night, but that was no guarantee. His brothers could capture K-Bar at any moment, and then this would all be over. He had to take what he could get now.

No emotions.

He could do that. He’d done it most of his life.

As their mouths fused together in a slow burn of passion, his hands dipped under her shirt and caressed the skin of her back. She sighed into his mouth, then pulled away long enough to whisk her shirt over her head. Standing, he unbuttoned his jeans, but couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Undressing her held a lot more appeal anyway, and he skimmed her shorts down her legs, trailing his lips along all the golden skin he found on the way. Her fingers dug into his scalp, and he felt the tug on his hair all the way to the tip of his cock. Man, he loved it when she did that.

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