She frowned at him, stung.
“I'll feel much better if you're here, Gemma,” Jude said. “Where it's safe.”
“He's right,” Dixon agreed. “Continue with your usual rhythms. Post on your shop's Instagram account about things you're doing in Bayview. That way, if Cedric checks your feed, he'll see that you're at home, oblivious to the illegal deal he's striking with your boyfriend.”
She hadn't been out of contact with Jude for so much as two waking hours across the last three weeks and didn't want him going dark at such a pivotal time. “I really think I can be of value in New York—”
“No,” Dixon said, not unkindly. “I can't allow anything or anyone to cloud Jude's judgment. In this situation, under my watch, cooler headsmustprevail. Do you understand, Ms. Clare?”
She bit her lip. “I do.”
“If I have further questions for you, I'll call.” Dixon opened the passenger side of the Suburban. “I'll wait in the car for the next few minutes so that you two can say goodbye to one another.”
As Dixon shut himself inside, Jude took Gemma's hand and led her behind the SUV's tailgate, as out of sight as possible.
“I don't like this,” she stated.
The thumb of his free hand swept along her cheekbone, then tucked her hair behind her ear. “What part don't you like?”
“All of it.Nowthey're welcoming you back? Now that you're useful?”
“I'm glad to be useful to them.”
“I don't like that we can't be in contact. I don't like that Cedric cut me out of this. I don’t like that Cedric won’t tell you the name of his hotel. That means he might be suspicious.”
“We always knew that Vincent was street smart.”
“Right, and you can bet that Vincent will be with Cedric in New York. I don't like that you'll be outnumbered—meeting both of them without much time to prepare. Most of all, I don't like that this will put you in danger.”
“This is my job,” he said gently. “This is the meeting we’ve been hoping for all along.”
He was the one going to face Cedric and he was calm. It wouldn't be fair to shove more stress or drama onto this goodbye. And make no mistake, this was—suddenly, unexpectedly—goodbye. Never had she wanted to say goodbye to someone less than she wanted to say goodbye to him. How to act? What to say? Dread and protectiveness were jumbling inside, making it hard to think straight. A memory of Gracie and Paul's goodbye on that train station platform in the 1940s skated through her memory . . . The photo of them from that day. The heartbreak that followed.
She wanted more time, more privacy. But had none of either. “I'll take care of Mabel while you're gone.”
“Thank you. She'd like that better than boarding overnight at daycare, which is what I was thinking I'd do.”
“Be safe.”
“I will.”
“I'll miss you.” He was so beautiful to her. Inside and out.
“I'll miss you.” He spoke the words back to her like a vow. “These . . . these last weeks have been the best of my life because of you.”
It felt as if she should confess everything that was in her heart. The words bottled up and formed an internal pressure like a pop can that had been shaken. Yet this was hardly the place to share intimate emotions. For pity's sake, they were standing behind the SUV where his boss was waiting. “I won't be able to contact you,” she told him, “but know that I'll be thinking about you and praying for you the whole time. Come home soon.”
“As soon as I can,” he promised. “You're here and you're the best reason I could ever have to come home.”
He gave her a kiss laced with unexpressed words and the sorrow of parting. Then they looked into each other’s eyes.
Something was off. This felt all wrong. What was bothering her?
Maybe that all the power seemed to be Cedric's? Maybe that Cedric was her relative and she felt responsible for his maddening choices? Maybe that she hadn’t forgotten what had happened the last time someone she cared about—her father—had gotten involved with Cedric. That had ended terribly for Dad and their whole family.
Though Jude was a Camden who had the might of the FBI behind him, he was as vulnerable to injury as any other human being. She honestly couldn't stand the thought of him getting hurt.
They kissed again, a reverent whisper of pressure.
