“I amsurehe doesn’t mind.”
I checked my watch and plopped down on one of the chairs.
“You didn’t see him in the store. He barely looked at me, and just like that night at the bar, he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
“Because he’s probably still mad, thinking that you have something going on with Larry. Really, Claud? Are you this distracted that you can’t see it?”
I settled into one of the chairs and stretched out my legs, letting my head fall back with a sigh. If Jude hated me for some unknown reason, it shouldn’t upset me this much. At least, not to the point of fishing out the fancy bowls from Peyton’s cabinet and changing my sundress three times before six thirty in a dopey effort to impress him.
“That’s dumb. Larry and I were only talking. I talked to a lot of people that night.”
“Claudia,” she started with a long sigh. “I know you’re fighting hard to downplay this thing brewing between you and Davis, but you are far from dense. Larry always tracks you every time you come to Halman’s with us.”
“He trackseverywoman who comes into the bar. Well, maybe not you because Jake would get all alpha possessive and kick his ass, but he’s a natural flirt. That’s all.”
“But I’ve noticed him go out of his way to flirt withyou,more than once. You were whispering to each other at the bar and huddled up close, and Davis wasn’t the only one staring at the two of you. Hell, even I questioned it.”
“It was loud, and I had questions to ask.” I rubbed at my temple as I considered what Peyton was trying to say. And if Jude was pissed, maybe it was only because looking like I had something going on with Larry blew our cover for this fake-dating thing between us that he was trying to allude to, and that I was all too happy to push when I had the chance.
Thinking of Jude truly jealous over me gave me a sad but real thrill. Either reason would explain the one-eighty he’d made in disposition that night, but my head ached too much to keep pondering silly what-ifs or whys that didn’t matter.
“I don’t have time to spend this much effort caring whether Jude likes me. If I want the bar open the way I want it, I have a shit-ton I need to do and figure out if the loan comes through.”
“It’s not a sacrilege to like a guy. Even if you’re a new business owner, I bet you could find a little time for that. Multitask.”
If I was becoming a permanent resident of this town, there would be no escaping Jude and whatever was or wasn’t between us, so I needed to make peace with it. The time for a flighty head full of distractions was over.
“Speaking of multitasking, I need to finish getting the yard ready for my company. Tell Mrs. Russo I said hi.”
“I’ll tell her and let you go back to obsessing over how Davis feels about you. And, here’s a thought, maybe you could like…ask him?”
“Because that’s not pathetic.” I huffed out a laugh as I dropped my head back. “Great idea. I’ll say, ‘Hi, Jude. Do you act like you hate me because you like me or because you hate me?’ I’m too old for this shit, Pey.”
Worrying this much over any man was not me. But I hadn’t been me in a long time. Old Claudia would have shrugged him off and moved on, but this one was too busy fixating and scrutinizing our every interaction and conversation to let it go.
“It’s not pathetic to ask, but it’s mature—and you’d have much less of an ulcer over it if you at least knew where you stood.” Her heavy sigh filled my ear. “You know how I loathe the miscommunication trope.”
“I don’t have an ulcer over it. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you sound fine.”
I groaned, hearing the smirk in her voice.
“Peyton, this isn’t a romance, so stop troping it or whatever you’re doing. This is simply two people who met under very weird circumstances and can’t seem to avoid each other because the town is so damn small.”
“And have enough sparks between them to start a forest fire.”
“Please stop projecting,” I said when she laughed. “I know it’s hard not to while being with your hot husband on a perfect little family getaway, but really, I’m begging you, please stop.”
“I think I’m more observing than projecting, but I’ll let it go while you have guests to entertain. Go play hostess. And have fun.”
“Thanks,” I said, ending the call and rolling my eyes. I needed to pull myself together tonight and in general. Jude was just a guy who put his pants on one rock-hard muscular leg at a time over his ass of perfection, and I needed to stop being so damn flustered in his presence.
“Anyone home?”
I turned my head to George’s voice. He smiled at me as he gingerly rolled his walker across the grass. I popped up to greet him, heat running up my neck from the intense stare of the man behind him, but I was going to ignore all that tonight.
Somehow.
