As comfortable as I am with him, I didn’t want my no-makeup messy-bun look to be the last impression Jude had of me for five days, so I recruit my sister to dress me. Layla insists on a short, dusty-rose strappy sundress that ties low on my back, leaving my tattoo well exposed, and I wipe the mud off my boots for one last rodeo before I abandon them for sneakers.
When I reach the hallway, I watch Jude chat with my mom, and a familiar Ninja Turtles movie on the TV has my brother’s attention.
I can’t stop staring. This is my favorite version of Jude—the everyday prepared-for-anything version I could never let my eyes linger on for too long. The one in well-worn khakis and a faded burgundy button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up just enough to show the band and cross on his sun-kissed forearm, gray Vans sneakers, shaggy golden-brown hair, and eyes swirling with moss and molasses.
The memory of the first time I saw him sneaks out in a smile.
Dark chocolate sea salt caramel with avocado.
My denim jacket covers my upper body, but when I approach the living room, Jude’s eyes are all over me like we’ve entered the same alternate universe. We’ve seen each other nearly every single day.For a year.
So why does this feel like the first time?
Chapter 31
Fresh Eyes
Ipunch my favorite Mexican restaurant into Jude’s phone as we step into the balmy evening air. His footsteps behind me release flutters of anticipation from somewhere once locked deep inside. It’s silly to feel this way. We’ve gone out for nachos together countless times. It’s been a while since we’ve gone out alone, but I can’t convince the butterflies in my chest this isn’t the first time.
There are few things I hate more than shivering in a restaurant while I eat, but it’s still a little warm outside, so I let my jacket fall off my shoulders and hang at my elbows, exposing the open back of my dress. Jude instantly closes the gap behind me, his warm hand sweeping my hair to the side to inspect my tattoo in the natural evening light.
Chills begin at my neck, sending shockwaves down my arms and back at his touch. I stop walking—partially to give him aminute to look but mostly because I don’t trust my legs to work when his finger begins tracing the words.
Nothing, however, and I repeat,NOTHINGcould have prepared my nervous system for the tickle of his hot breath on my shoulder, his mouth skimming kisses along the curve of my neck as he tugs my jacket the rest of the way over my hands and completely off.
Screw dating.
If I can keep this man, I don’t want to go out.
Wefit. I want a ring and a courthouse and forever and ever in that one-room cabin. Okay, maybe notforeverin a one-room cabin but, like,a month. Then a small house where I can always hear his voice and whatever instrument he’s playing. I’ll make nachos and pies withplentyof whipped cream for the rest of our lives as long as his mouth keeps—
“Lu,” he breathes on my neck, blurring my wild domesticated fantasy.
“Hmm?” I whimper.
“Turn around.”
“Why?”
“You’ve already wrecked me with the view from back here. I want to see the front before I ruin your lip gloss.”
He turns me around as we reach his SUV, but before ravaging my lips as promised, he takes two steps back and snaps a few quick pictures with his phone.
“What are you doing, weirdo?” I laugh, pulling him to me, but he resists.
“Give me a minute to look at you, Punk. I’ve had to play it cool for months. Do you know how hard it’s been for me not to back you against a wall and tell you how gorgeous you are every single day?”
My face flushes. No one’s ever looked at me like he does.
I don’t hate it. “You haven’t played it all that cool lately.”
He grins. “Glad you noticed. Now hold still. These have to last me a while.”
He holds his phone up, snapping pictures as I pull him in to kiss me before we leave.
We pick at the pile of chicken nachos between us but end up talking more than we eat.
“Thanks, Grace,” I say to my favorite server as she sets a fresh Diet Coke in front of me and tops off Jude’s water.
