12
Jude
I sipmy coffee at the small table near the window as Reagan sleeps. She looks so peaceful stretched out across the bed, the sheets tangled around her body as she snores softly. A few times I reached out, ready to wake her, but I let her be. We seem to fight more than anything else anymore, and I’m not ready for a battle at seven in the morning.
I’ve gone over her job offer a million times in my head. I’m not happy about the entire thing, but she’s my wife, and if she’s excited, I should be too. I’m greedy, though. I want Reagan at my side and in my bed every night. I don’t want her traveling around the world, gone for weeks at a time because Andrea wants time off.
I want my wife, but I know I also want Reagan happy. She gave up her Senate run years ago, and I don’t want her to give up on any more dreams. I don’t want to be the asshole. Her father did enough to kill her excitement of politics; I don’t want to take her zest for life and charity.
I push myself up from the chair, knowing exactly what I need to say as I make my way toward the bed. She stirs with her eyes closed as I climb under the covers and press my front against her bare flesh.
“Hey,” she whispers and blinks slowly as she peers over her shoulder at me.
“Hey, baby.” I smile, trying to put on my best game face, even though every word of what’s about to come out of my mouth is almost a complete lie. “It’s so nice waking up with you next to me.” Those words are true. What I wouldn’t give to do this every day like normal married people.
She rolls over, pressing her breasts against my chest and gives me a lazy little smile. “It is nice, isn’t it?”
I rub my nose against her, wishing I could bottle this moment to remember her soft breasts, the heat coming off her silky skin in waves, and the feel of her body in my arms. In a few months, it’ll all be just a memory. “I was thinking…” I let my voice drift, not finishing the statement yet.
Her eyebrows rise as she slides her hands up my chest, pulling her face away just enough to see me better. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good or bad?”
I slowly drag my fingers up her spine, tracing the outline of each bone. “Depends.” I’m totally stalling. I don’t really want to say the words. They’re stuck in my throat, not wanting to come out.
“Jude,” Reagan says with the same tone she uses when she’s run out of patience.
“I think you should take the job,” I blurt, throwing the statement out there much the same way one tears off a Band-Aid from their hairy limb.
She’s silent for a moment. Her eyes widen as the realization hits her. The surprise on her face matches how I feel inside, but I don’t let the emotion show on my face. There’s no taking them back now. No trying to change her mind. Reagan is someone I can’t control even if I want to, which I don’t.
Her face scrunches, and her fingernails dig into my skin just enough to make me wince. “So help me God, Jude. If you’re bullshitting, I will—”
“Baby, I’m not,” I interrupt her before she can tell me all the ways she’d make me suffer. “I want you to take the job if it’ll make you happy.”
She bites her bottom lip and smiles, retracting her claws from my chest. “You just made me the happiest woman in the world.”
Her words bring a smile to my face for a second because who doesn’t want to see their wife happy. I tell myself to stop being a selfish asshole, something I struggle with sometimes, but only when it comes to her. “That’s all I want,” I tell her and pull her closer.
She stares up at me like I’ve just given her the best gift in the world. The happiness radiates from her as she curls into me, giving her lips to me without hesitation. It’s like I delivered her the moon and the stars and not a simple nod of approval for her career aspirations. One thing I already knew, Reagan was going to take the position whether or not I wanted her to, so why fight it?
She kisses me slowly as she snakes her arms around my shoulders and starts to toy with the hair at the back of my neck. Goose bumps break out across my skin as I breathe her in.
“Jude.” Tyson’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard as he repeats my name and knocks on the door.
We break our kiss, staring at each other but not speaking. I gave Tyson explicit instructions not to interrupt Reagan and me. I don’t care if the world is coming to an end, I’d rather die in my wife’s arms without ever knowing the information in advance.
“Jude. For God’s sake, open the door. It’s an emergency.”
“Ignore him,” I say to Reagan, pressing my lips back on hers as she tries to wiggle free from my hold.
“You have to answer him,” she tells me as she slides out from under my arms even though I try to stop her.
She slips off the bed and grabs her robe from the back of the chair near the window.
I slam my fist into the mattress before I launch myself upward. “This better be good,” I growl as I head toward the door, adjusting my sweats. Every muscle in my body is tense, and my cock isn’t too happy about the entire situation either.
