Page 172 of Jude

‘Exactly,’ he murmured. ‘That’s why we rarely do interviews. Our social media is strictly about the music. We never share images of Deacon’s son or our family lives. We keep our business private.’

‘I appreciate that.’

He paused, his chest rising. ‘That’s why the thought of those photos getting leaked horrified me; the thought of being exposed was traumatic.’

I reached up, wrapping my fingers over his hand, kissing his calloused knuckles.

‘Don’t worry, I’m never going back to acting, honey. I love community work too much, especially because it makes a difference.’

‘You’re incredible, you know that?’

‘I mean it,’ I said, gazing straight into his eyes so he could see my certainty. ‘Also, if we have a family later on, I’ll protect them with everything I have. No paparazzi is getting near us if I can help it.’

Jude’s chest rumbled with silent laughter as he tugged me down for a deep, lingering kiss.

‘A family huh? I like the idea of a mini-us, and I love the idea of making them even better.’

He proceeded to show me again just how much he meant it.

The following day, Jude listed his Belle Meade mansion and finalized the sale within forty-eight hours, severing our ties to the place.

We packed up and moved out to the estate.

Miles away from traffic, noise, the crowds, the paparazzi, and flashing cameras, where we could build a life in the quiet.

A month later, Six Sinner’s new Oceania tour kicked off down under.

I traveled with Jude and the crew for the opening seven days, eager to see his home city.

We rolled into Sydney, New South Wales, where the harbourside metropolis welcomed us with brilliant sunshine, golden beaches, and a magnificent foreshore.

Our hotel suite, perched high above Circular Quay, offered a stunning, unrestricted view of the famous Bridge arching over the water like a giant steel coat hanger.

On the third night, the production team staged a free promotional concert right on the iconic white granite steps of the Sydney Opera House.

Ten thousand fans packed the forecourt, their cell phones creating a wave of light in the stunning backdrop.

I stood tucked into the wings behind a set of amplifier stacks, as the band enthralled their homegrown fans.

When Jude finished his opening number, he slung his black electric guitar over his shoulder, his charcoal shirt clinging to his muscles.

He gripped the center microphone, his green eyes scanning the screaming crowd before he turned his face toward the shadows where I hid.

His signature hoarse rasp boomed through the colossal line-array speakers, silencing the uproarious throng.

‘Sydney, some of you might’ve seen a video that went around about me speaking of the woman I adore. The rumor mill has gone to town trying to figure out who she is. You don’t have to wonder anymore. My stunning, kind, amazing wife, Sofia, is here tonight. Get out here, beautiful.’

My breath hitched in my throat, but still I forced my feet to move, stepping out from the curtains into the blinding spotlight.

The crowd erupted into a deafening roar that shook me to the core.

Jude closed the distance between us in three strides, his hand wrapping around my waist, pulling me to his side.

I took the wireless microphone from his grip, swallowed down the last of my shyness, and waved to the sea of faces.

‘Hi, Sydney,’ I said, my voice bouncing off the white sails of the architecture behind us. ‘Thank you for taking care of my husband and my amazing friends, the Six Sinners.’

The audience went feral, with cheers that ratcheted when Jude leaned down, pressing a hard, possessive kiss on my lips.