Page 54 of Fall for Me

Jude was oblivious, of course, and when he reached me, pulled me into a bear hug. He’d grown accustomed to fame during his pro-tennis career, and had been good-looking all his life. He was cocky because of it, though he wasn’t conceited. But that was because he didn’t even have to try to look the way he did. He literally walked around in ripped jeans or tracksuits and probably forgot to shower on a regular basis and still he had women fawning all over him.

“Ugh,” I said, getting a whiff of his armpits and pushing away from him. He definitely forgot to shower this morning.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Did a quick ten miles this morning.”

“A quick ten miles,” I laughed. When Cass and I used to run together, we never ran more than five and that took us probably just as long as Jude’s ten. Occasionally, we’d run into Jude down on the river trail. He loved flying by us hollering “On your left!” Captain-America style.

“Why bother showering when I’m doing demos this afternoon at work, anyway?”

He meant tennis demos. He was the recreation director at the Rolling Hills, a job he skimmed by on with charm, talent, and zero care or interest in any of the “job” aspects of the job. But he got away with it because he was Jude Kelly, former two-time US Open tennis champ. All he had to do was a ten-minute podcast interview, plug the Rolling Hills, and our booking rates went through the roof.

And unlike me, I didn’t sense that he had any suppressed urges to spread his wings—he’d already done that. Besides, Jude shouldn’t be spreading anything right now, least of all his arms, which he was doing on purpose, a childish grin on his face.

“I don’t know, hygiene maybe?” I said, fake coughing, and waving my hand in front of my nose as he raised his arms up and sniffed.

He grinned, and I pinched my own smile into a fake frown, rolling my eyes. Jude threw his arm around me. He knew exactly how charming he was.

“Thanks again for doing this with me,” I said. I told Jude a little about what happened, leaving out a couple of key details. Like how I’d almost been run over. And anything more than just ‘Seamus helped me with a couple of bandages.’

He laughed, of course, at the thought of me chasing a dog through downtown.

I tried to put on a bright face, like it had been hilarious.

Then he’d told me he understood—he and Jack were dog-sitting his friend Rafe’s pug.

“Rafe has a pug?” Rafe wasn’t really Jude’s friend—he was Griff’s. But years ago he’d been Jude’s bodyguard, back when Jude was the hottest thing on the tennis courts. I still associated Rafe with Jude, even though since Jude’s career ended, he and Griff had started doing business together. What kind of business he was doing exactly I couldn’t say, but I did know a pug didn’t seem anything like Rafe. He didn’t really seem like a dog person at all, and if he was, I’d peg him for more of a tough-guy kind of animal.

“He acquired it,” Jude had said, laughing. “Anyway, Jack loves the little guy. I dunno if he’ll be able to give him up when Rafe gets back.”

I’d thought of Lola, and how even though she’d put me in danger, it had been hard handing her back to Mia even after a day.

“So, what are you thinking?” Jude asked now. “Fridge magnets?”

I gave him a glare. “No, not fridge magnets.” There was a tourist shop up the street I’d told Jude I wanted to stop at, but now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure anything there was really appropriate. Then my shoulders sagged. What was I supposed to get the people who were so kind to me? One of whom I kept losing my head thinking about? I thought of Seamus’s teeth closing on my ear, then pinched my eyes shut to clear the vision. Not now. Not ever, but especially not now, with Jude here.

“Do you have any better suggestions?” I asked, making my voice as bright as possible.

“How about flowers?”

I frowned. That would be my go-to for literally anyone else. But Seamus? “Do men like flowers?”

“Sure they do. But you’re giving them to the office, aren’t you?”

Of course I’d been thinking of Seamus. “I mean, yeah. Seamus, his dad, and the receptionist.”

Jude gave me a strange look.

Had I stammered slightly?

Then he shrugged. “I dunno. I like flowers.”

I also loved a good flower arrangement. At the events I planned at the Rolling Hills, I often built the decor around whatever blooms I thought suited the occasion. There was a time, too, when I’d painted flowers. Filled whole books with sketches of them. Flowers and sunrises and sunsets. And portraits. Those had all been things I loved. I thought about Seamus’s suggestion that I try making art again… the thought filled me with dread. But there was a hint of something else, too. Something pressing at me from somewhere way down deep. Like fear, layered on top of some ancient seed of hope and possibility.

Flowers. I could do flowers.

“Okay then,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

We headed to my favorite floral shop over on Lily Avenue. The arrangements were gorgeous, and I chose a fall-themed one to go with the weather, with artfully arranged sprigs of spruce boughs, and orange lanterns. Luckily the owner, who I did a ton of business with at the Rolling Hills, wasn’t in, so I could buy anonymously.

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