"Oh, I don't know, how about getting some rest?" I asked. "We've been awake for almost twenty hours now. There's a point in sleeping."
He swept a quick glance over me. "I'm good." Reaching for my rolling bag, he added, "You can sleep. I'll drive."
I yanked the bag behind me. "I know you want to get there as soon as possible but I don't think driving on unfamiliar roads at midnight is the best idea."
"They're not unfamiliar to me."
Right, because Jude knewallthe roads. As men always did.
He pried my fingers from the bag's handle. "Let's go."
"I'm getting some tea first," I said to his back.
Without glancing back at me, he motioned to the shuttered storefronts throughout the terminal. "We'll stop after we pick up the car."
I glared after him as he continued following signs for the rental car facility. At the black t-shirt that stretched taut across his shoulders and hugged his biceps in a way that would've been gratuitous if it'd been intentional. I didn't think it was. At the jeans he'd probably owned for at least a decade. At the easy, smug way he maneuvered our bagswith one hand. I would've pulled off to the side twice by now to straighten out the wheels and cry while people shot annoyed looks at me.
"Let's go, Saunders," he called.
Despite the fact that I absolutely hated making a scene and drawing attention to myself in public places, I shouted back, "It's not like you're going to leave me here. I'm kind of important to this operation, in case you've forgotten."
He stopped then and shifted to face me, caring nothing for all the other weary travelers forced to stream around him. A few of them pinged glances between us but most were just as tired, wrinkled, and pouty as I was. They didn't care.
I stared at him for a minute, my chin tipped up and my arms crossed over my chest. I didn't know which point I was trying to prove with this but I was committed. Not backing down now. I'd live the rest of my days in this terminal if I had to.
But then he beckoned me, his gaze hard, his tone low as he said, "Come here."
And I went. Jude met me halfway, a scowl carved into his face. He studied me with a slow sweep. When he finally metmy eyes, he brushed a ratty strand of hair off my forehead and reached for the bag on my shoulder. "Give me this."
I pulled back. "I can handle it by my?—"
He closed the distance between us, slipping his fingers under the strap. Against my shoulder. "And you should know I haven't forgotten a fucking thing."
He dropped a hand to my lower back and steered me forward, and I didn't say another word.
I didn't know what that said about me. Or Jude. Or any of this.
chapter fifteen
Audrey
Today's vocabulary word: appearances
It surprisedme not at all that this midnight road trip went off the rails almost immediately.
The car Jude had reserved before we departed from Boston was no longer available and it was obvious he wasn't a fan of the alternative provided. Engine guys. A very particular lot. It was always something with them.
Road construction brought all traffic around the airport to a standstill. When we were finally free of that, we realized the entire city was closed for the night.
After getting my tea fix and foraging for a hodgepodge of goods at a truck stop an hour outside of Salt Lake, we were on the road again. I pressed my palms to the paper cup and inhaled the minty steam. Sometimes that was enough—or all I could manage. It was exactly what I needed tonight.
The tea settled my stomach and I was feeling better now that I had the air conditioner blowing and the seat warmers switched on. They did not, in fact, cancel each other out. It helped that Jude stayed quiet, sipping his iced coffee and occasionallyglaring at the navigation screen while we ate up miles of dark highway.
I'd always imagined that spending time with Jude again would mean immediately falling into deep, earnest conversations where we'd unearth every sad and broken truth we'd carried around all these years. We'd confess everything—but the more I thought about it, I wasn't sure I knew whateverythingwas anymore. And I didn't know why my daydreams kept missing the mark.
All I knew was that this stilted new reality of ours would crack before the end of the week. If nothing else, I'd crack. Cracking under pressure was one of my specialties. And I guessed that would make it easier to call off this fake wedding.
Another hour or two into the drive, I sensed Jude looking at me. I was half asleep—the best I could manage in a car—with a truck stop hoodie draped over my legs like a blanket and my arms tucked inside my shirt. I blinked when he cleared his throat. My eyes felt sunburned and the taste of perfume stuck to the back of my throat.
