Page 71 of Still Bruised
“I don’t see why not,” Jude said, his expression bored.
“I’m job hunting. I’ll have interviews. I’ve been going into the city often and sometimes stay overnight if I’ve got a couple lined up together. What if I’m not home when you come to collect next time?”
“Then I come back another night,” Jude muttered. He glanced down. When his gaze popped up, one eyebrow was arched.
“Or you could give me your number so we can communicate when and where instead of you getting pissed at me if I’m not there.”
Jude rolled his eyes.
Foster was pretty sure the answer was going to be no.
“Fine. Give me your phone.”
Foster fished it out and handed it over after he’d unlocked it. Jude typed something in, and his pocket buzzed a couple of seconds later. He handed the phone back, his expression grim.
“Thanks,” Foster said, fighting a smile. Grim or not, getting digits felt like a small victory. “Can I get back in line now and order my mom’s roast?”
“Stay here,” Jude muttered. He looked down at Foster’s cock. “I don’t need someone seeing you like that after we’ve been chatting.”
Foster watched Jude walk into the back, keeping his back to most of the customers. He pulled his t-shirt out of his shorts and tried to cover himself as best he could, but thin summer wear didn’t hide as much. Jude returned a few minutes later with a parcel wrapped in brown paper and white twine.
“Here.”
Foster eyed him, but an errant thought made him pause. “It’s not rotten, is it?”
Jude narrowed his eyes, glaring. He tilted his head. “What do you take me for?”
“I’m on your shit list. I wouldn’t want my folks hurt because you’re angry at me, especially with my dad having had the stroke last year. I don’t know if his system could take the hit.”
“I’m not a monster.” Jude’s glare softened. “I have no quarrel with your parents. I wouldn’t cause them harm.” He moved a little closer. “You, on the other hand—who knows?”
Foster searched his face. “Thank you… for not taking it out on them.”
They stared at one another for a few more seconds, Jude glowering… yet never taking his gaze from Foster’s.
Foster dragged his away, afraid he’d already shown Jude too much. Their transactional relationship was supposed to be a punishment for him. If Jude caught on to how much it was turning him on, he might deny him just to cause torment.
Hell, maybe that’s what he’d been doing for the last two weeks already.
“It’s time for you to go,” Jude snapped.
Foster looked at the package and didn’t see a sticker or price written on it. Hopefully the cashier would know how to ring it up. “I’ll go pay for this and get out of your hair.”
Jude glanced past him. “Hey, Margot?”
The girl on the register looked up.
“This roast is prepaid, so he’s good to go,” Jude said. “Don’t charge him.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Foster murmured.
Jude scowled. “It isn’t for you. It’s for your parents.” The evil faded from his gaze. “I didn’t know about the stroke. I hope your dad’s doing okay.”
Foster stared at Jude, shocked by the small show of concern. “He’s not back to where he was but he’s getting better every day.”
“Good.” The wall quickly reappeared in Jude’s expression. “Now get the fuck out of my shop.”
Foster fought a smile before he spun and walked out. He’d barely made it to his SUV when his phone buzzed in his pocket. After climbing in, he dug it out and took a peek.
