Inside her bedroom, she found Chaz sitting on the end of her bed, scrolling on his phone. Gemma flipped off the music, leaving reverberating silence. “My mom's gone. The coast is clear.”
“I haven’t been hidden away by anyone since I was twenty-one,” Chaz said happily, pressing to standing. “I was dating a woman at the time whose divorce wasn't final. Her husband came in unexpectedly.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Irritation toward him stabbed through her. What had he been thinking, coming here? She gestured for him to follow. “My mom dropped off homemade cannelloni, which might as well have been prepared by angels. Plus, I remembered that I have some bread rolls and probably enough veggies to scrounge up a salad. How about I feed that to you and we stay here?”
“Yeah! Sounds great.”
He'd been driving for hours and professed to be starving, so she'd get some food in him. The conversation they were about to have would go down better on a full stomach. She set to work fixing him a plate. It didn't take long before he was sitting on a tall stool at her kitchen island, lifting his first bite of pasta. He pointed to the red sauce speckled with seasonings. “Thyme is money.”
She dredged up a weary smile. “Yep. I get it.”
He chuckled, then dug into the food with gusto. When he'd eaten about a third of it, he slowed and stated the obvious. “You look displeased.”
“I broke up with you. So I'm a little mystified about this surprise visit.”
“Okay, okay. I hear you. I get why you'd be mystified.” He blotted his mouth with his napkin. “After our last talk, I missed you. I remembered that it had been my turn to come here, to Maine, but that I'd tried to talk you into coming to New York instead. I felt bad. That wasn't fair. So this is me, showing you that I'm willing to do my part. And saying that I'm sorry I dragged my feet about coming here. I'm really into you, Gemma. I'd like to give this thing between us more time.”
Right here and now she could instantly transport herself back to the courtroom where she'd stood next to her mother and brothers, her heart ripping in half when someone she truly, truly loved had been taken away in handcuffs.
The Chazes of the world had not put her heart at risk. But that wasn't enough anymore to entice her to keep on dating them. Something had shifted inside her since she'd met Jude.
“Babe?” Chaz asked.
“I haven't changed my mind. I don't want to get back together.”
ChapterSixteen
Jude never drank too much.
In fact, ordinarily, he hardly drank at all. He was too much of a perfectionist to let his guard down. Too responsible to allow alcohol to make a fool of him. Too worried that he'd be drunk right when someone needed him.
Tonight, though, after leaving Gemma at her ancient lake house with Chaz, he'd called Jeremiah and asked if he'd meet him for drinks at the sports bar Jude went to from time to time with FBI friends. It was a Tuesday, not exactly a night of the week known for socializing. And Jeremiah lived an hour away from Bangor. Even so, his older brother hadn’t paused before telling him he was on his way.
Jude was the person in the family everyone relied on. He never asked the others for anything. Clearly, Jude requesting that Jeremiah meet him had told Jeremiah all he needed to know.
Jeremiah had the faster car, but Jude had the advantage of proximity. He arrived first and took a seat at the bar.
When Jude joined his buddies here, they ribbed each other while playing pool, or darts, or shuffleboard on a raised table.
Tonight, Jude had no interest in games. He began by downing what he intended to be the first of many shots. Then he ordered hot wings—not as healthy as his usual dinners. While waiting for Jeremiah, he divided his focus between the Celtics and Red Sox games playing on the mounted TVs. He only wished he could divert himself by concentrating on the games, even a little. His thoughts sabotaged him by remaining fixed on Gemma.
No need to watch the door for Jeremiah because he'd know when his brother entered without having to look. He had lots of experience with the response Jeremiah's famous face generated.
Even before Jeremiah had been famous, their family had received attention everywhere they'd gone. When he'd been very young and shy, the interest of others had been like warm light, making him feel remarkable and special.
But during his late elementary school years, he'd comprehended that people didn't view Mom or Dad as normal, like he did. His parents were the ones who took care of Jeremiah and him, fed them, drove them places, ensured they took showers and did their homework, read to them at bedtime. No one was more familiar to him.
Yet strangers saw Dad as a quarterback and an unfaithful husband. They saw Mom as his mistress. Once he'd understood the reason behind everyone's awareness of their family, he'd started to feel the animosity and sharp curiosity in it. Turned out, he was a circus attraction. That had been doubly true when the second scandal hit them. Jude had gone to ground.
When he'd applied to college, his self-esteem demanded that he do so on his own merits. Same with law school and later, the FBI. His accomplishments were his own, which brought deep satisfaction.
It had been years since he'd advertised his connection to his parents or to Jeremiah. He didn't want to wonder whether people liked him because of him or his family's notoriety. He didn't want to fuss with the questions people asked him about the Camdens. And he definitely didn't want to be anyone's circus attraction.
A stir worked its way through the atmosphere of the place. Jeremiah had arrived. Sure enough, seconds later Jude's brother clamped a hand on Jude's shoulder, then took the barstool next to him. “Hey.”
“Hello.”
Jeremiah looked Jude over, pushing his tongue against the inside of one cheek. “Hmm,” he finally said.
