Page 38 of Can't Get Over You
“If you need me, I’ll be right here. I’m so close that I’ll hear you if you call my name.”
Cody deliberated for a moment before scrambling off her lap and joining Gunnar. The big man reached for the boy’s hand, and they headed toward the kitchen. When he turned back to look at her, she gave him a reassuring smile.
“He’ll be okay,” Jude said. “My dad raised four boys.”
“It’s not your dad I’m worried about. It’s the situation. He’s been handed off to so many people. Who can he trust?”
With his stony expression, Jude looked like he couldn’t care less. But it was the roiling emotion in his eyes that left no doubt he was worried. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Here.” He swiped the screen, tapped in his password, and thrust it at her. “Phone’s been blowing up, so you can check your messages and make your calls.”
“You’re awfully trusting for a single bartender.” She tried to inject levity, but it didn’t work. Not when her hand trembled, and her voice came out shaky. She looked at the device as if she’d never used one before, not wanting to tell him she’d blanked on Willa’s number.
“You’re welcome to scroll through all the naked selfies women send me. It might take your mind off things.”
She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Only when she saw the glint in his eyes did she know he was joking, and she let out a breath. “Okay, lover boy. Hard pass on that one.” She set the phone on her lap and closed her eyes.
“Hey. It’s all right.” Jude’s deep voice soothed her. “Take the time you need to figure things out.”
“That’s the thing. Everyone’s going to come at me with their opinions and advice, and it’s only going to make things worse. I need to think. I need to process. I just need…time.”
“You got it.” He sat down beside her and reached for her hand. “For now, just breathe, okay? You’re good here. You don’t have to do a single thing.”
The warmth and strength of his touch did wonders for her nerves. “Thank you.” They sat in silence for a moment while she took some calming breaths. The fire crackled and popped, and she breathed in scents of smoke and leather. “I can’t believe you grew up here.”
The dark paneled walls and built-in bookcases gave the impression of a high-end lodge. The cathedral ceiling was reinforced with massive wooden beams, and a wall of windows let the forest in. Green couches built for a family of boisterous, large men fit beautifully against the dark gray river stone walls. “It’s gorgeous.” She smiled at him. “Your dad has amazing taste.”
“It’s all Ava. My dad would happily live in a yurt.”
“Are they together?” No, that made no sense. She’d worked with Ava at the school for years. She’d know if her friend had a boyfriend. As far as she knew, Ava hadn’t dated anyone seriously since her divorce.
“It’s not like that. She’s family.” Abruptly, he got up. “I’ll check on Cody.”
Twelve years, one master’s degree, and a whole fiancé later, Jude still had the power to mess with her emotions. In high school, every time they got close, got that surge of intimacy and connection, he’d just shut down and walk away. Like he was bored with her.
Leaving her to wonder: Was her crush too obvious?
Was she immature? Too inexperienced?
And just then, he’d done it again. His abrupt dismissal made her shrink.
A hot mess of emotion, she looked at the phone in her hand. Anyone she called would come out here and pick her upin a heartbeat. Her parents, the teachers at her school, and her wonderful friends… They’d come.
But they’d all want to fix her problem.
Her dad would bring her to his apartment in Wild Wolff Village. He ate like a child, so he’d give her a bowl of sugary cereal with marshmallow stars and moons. He called his one-bedroom apartment a crash pad because he let childhood friends, college pals, and any acquaintance he’d ever met stay there so they could ski or visit Calamity. But guests stayed on the pull-out couch, which was where her dad watched TV until he fell asleep.
She’d have noise and food and no chance to think.
So no, she wouldn’t call him.
Her mom would heat two of her microwavable meals, and they’d share a pint of her favorite peanut butter brittle ice cream. The whole time, she’d be ranting about Matt’s betrayal and telling her how to handle the situation. Finlay wouldn’t have a second to process anything because her mom held such strong opinions. Plus, her childhood bedroom remained intact, and she couldn’t bear to see that stupid vision board she’d based all her life decisions on.
It wasn’t appropriate to bother her teacher friends. That just wasn’t the nature of their relationship. They went for drinks, shared funny stories, showed pictures of their kids or new cars, and bitched about the parents of their students.
No, there was only one person to call.
Chapter Six
It took halfa ring for Willa to connect. “Quiet,” she snapped, her voice nowhere near the receiver. “It’s her.”
