Page 96 of The Plus One
His eyes were deep pools of emotion, creased at the corners with a smile as he looked at her. “Like I could deny you anything,” he said.
Then he kissed her again, holding her close as they danced under the moonlight.
CHAPTER 32
Indira
“The only thing that still bothers me,” Indira said a few hours later back in their small cabin on the outskirts of the property, staring up at the ceiling, arms clasped behind her head, “is the astronomical cleanup that amount of peanut butter would require. Is there really any type of sexual gratification that would be worth that mess? Think about how hard it is to lick a spoonful of peanut butter, then add in some skin and pubes?” She did a full-body shiver.
Jude turned his head to look at her, brow furrowed like he was deep in thought. Then a smile cracked along his stern mouth, a loud laugh escaping.
“You’re so weird,” Jude said, pulling her close. “I love you.”
They giggled together for a moment.
“What did your mom have to say about us?” he asked, wrapping one of her corkscrew curls around his finger while trying to sound casual. Indira caught the adorable twinge of trepidation in his voice and she smiled.
“She was wondering if I’d been the victim of any curses or recruited into any cults recently. Pretty standard reaction, I’d say.”
Jude tickled her side, making her squeal. “I’m serious!” he said, pressing closer to her.
“She’s happy I’m happy,” Indira said, turning to face him, wrapping an arm and a leg over his body and nuzzling into his neck. “Shocked. But happy.”
Jude laughed, a soft puff of amusement dancing over her cheek.
“Well, for lack of better phrasing, that makes me happy.”
“Never pegged you as a poet, little love gremlin.”
He let out a forlorn sigh. “Really think it’s time for you to give up on the pet names.”
“You didn’t like that one, my pantie pirate?”
“How do they keep getting worse?” he whined, pressing his lips to her hair.
They held each other for a while, the quietness of their little space wrapping like a blanket around them. Indira was content—overwhelmingly comfortable—but a small, sharp prick of fear wormed between her ribs and up her throat.
“What happens when you go back?” she whispered.
Jude’s entire body went rigid like she’d electrocuted him, his breath locking in his throat. Indira reached out her hand, cupping the angle of his jaw. All the air whooshed from his lungs, his shoulders curling as he melted into her touch.
As Indira’s eyes traced over the sadness in his—all those shadows and lines that sharpened his features—she wondered what a heart looked like when it broke.
Was it a slow, subtle fissure that separated the chambers, cutting off blood and oxygen? Or a shattering? An explosion of a million shards embedding into the surrounding tissue and bone?
Based on the pain in Indira’s chest, she decided it was a combination of both.
“Jude?”
“I’ll go back,” Jude said softly, his voice dancing on a razor’s edge. “I’ll finish my thirteen months. I’ll write and call and video-chat you every fucking chance I get, if you’ll let me. And then I’ll come home.”
Indira swallowed, picturing that bleak reality, the invisible weight of it pressing down on them.
“And I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you. I don’t feel right asking you to wait for me. But I hope… I hope you’ll have me when I come back.”
Hot tears started rolling down Indira’s cheeks, over the tip of her nose and plunking onto the bed.
“Silly man,” she said, pressing her forehead to his. “I’m yours whether you’re here or somewhere across the globe. That was never my question.”
