Page 18 of Treat

Jude stared. “What the hell is a mucus plug?”

“Dude, you don’t want to know.” Tommy waved at the chef behind the grill. “Let’s get a steak and you can tell me about your summer.”

Half an hour later,Tommy was frowning at him over what was left of a ten-ounce sirloin, steamed broccoli, and a baked potato. “Dude, that’s fucked up.”

“I know.” Swallowing a bite of his filet, Jude reached for his glass of iced tea. “My agent’s assistant is digging into what happened, but in the meantime, she’s homeless.”

“Seriously fucked up.” Tommy sat back, looking thoughtful. “I’d offer my guest house, but Kara’s mom is staying there until after the baby’s born. I have a guest room. It’s in the main house and not that private, but she’s welcome to it.”

It took Jude a second to realize Tommy was offering Brynn a place to stay. “I appreciate the thought, but you’ve got enough going on right now without adding a house guest.”

“Offer stands,” Tommy said with a shrug. “You going to put her up in a hotel?”

Jude shook his head. “I offered. She said no.”

“Well, hell, man, where’s she going to go?”

“I told her she could stay with me,” Jude said casually and took another bite of steak.

Tommy blinked once, slowly, then leaned forward and cupped a hand around one ear. “I’m sorry, come again?”

“I told her she could stay with me,” Jude repeated patiently, pleased with his bland-as-toast tone. “I’ve got plenty of room, and it should only be a few days until things get squared away and she can move to her own place.”

“Sure, sure,” Tommy said, nodding, lips pursed as though in thought. “That makes sense. I just have one question.”

“Shoot,” Jude said.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

It was Jude’s turn to blink. “Huh?”

“I said, are you out of your fucking mind?” Tommy repeated slowly, the way one would with someone who didn’t speak fluent English. “She can’t stay with you.”

“Why not?” Jude asked, genuinely baffled at his friend’s reaction. Tommy was acting like he’d invited the captain of the Toronto Maple Leafs to live with him, not his harmless—and homeless—assistant.

“Jude. Come on.” Tommy shook his head. “You know why.”

“I actually don’t.”

“You really gonna make me say it?” Tommy asked.

“Say what?” Jude said, bewildered, and reached for his iced tea again.

“Okay, you asked for it.” Tommy leaned forward, looked him square in the eye and said, “She can’t stay with you because you want to stick your dick in her.”

Jude choked, spewing tea over his plate and Tommy’s face, coughing and gasping so hard he saw sparks. When he got his breath back and blinked his streaming eyes clear, Tommy was mopping his face with a napkin and holding another out.

“Thanks.” Jude took it and cleaned his face before croaking out, “How did you know?”

“I’ve seen the two of you together,” Tommy said drily. “It’s pretty fucking obvious.”

Jude tried swallowing. It felt like gulping razor blades. “Please tell me that isn’t true.”

“Probably not,” Tommy allowed. “Maybe I see it because, well, been there—done that.”

“What are you talking about?” Jude asked, then realization hit. “Wait. You and Kara?”

“She was my PA when I was with Pittsburgh.” Tommy raised one eyebrow. “You didn’t know that?”

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