Run to Love (Triple R Book 1)

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Run to Love (Triple R Book 1) Page 18

by Dixon,Jules


  “Sounded a little suggestive, but I didn’t mind it.” He reached over and entwined his fingers with mine on my lap. “I think it’s great you know how to do those things. If I ever have kids, I’d want them to know those basics of car maintenance, it makes good sense.” He squeezed my hand and tingles rode the skin up my arms to my neck.

  “So tell me something about you, Jude.”

  Other than you wouldn’t mind having kids, ‘cause that information gives me heart palpitations.

  “I come from Clive, a suburb of Des Moines. I went to Iowa State University for my bachelor’s and master’s degrees in kinesiology. My mom is Wendy and my dad is Brian. They’ve been married for thirty years this coming July. Not that there weren’t times I thought they’d be better off divorced, but they’ve taught me that relationships are difficult and it’s harder to stick it out than call it quits, but hard things are usually worth it.”

  I giggled again.

  Jude shook his head. “I think someone has a little gutter mind tonight.”

  I raised my shoulders in a shrug.

  “Anyway, my brother Zane went to UNL, works for Union Pacific Railroad as a night dispatcher. He told me yesterday that he’s moving in with his girlfriends.”

  “Girlfriends?”

  “Yep, an exclusive polyamorous relationship. Him and two girls, Yori and Britney.”

  “I know Yori! We graduated from high school together, took a lot of the same classes.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, Simi’s sister, Yori Song, right? Stunning girl with full red lips that are every man’s dream?”

  “Yeah, that’s Yori. Small world.”

  “Omaha is the smallest big city you’ll ever live in. I find it comforting when I see someone in the crowd who I know, makes my existence seem real, connected to something bigger than me. Anyway, good for Zane, hope to meet him and Britney sometime and catch up with Yori.”

  “Maybe you can come over on Sunday for a cookout? Supposed to be really nice in the evening.”

  “Um…” A familiar anxiety rode through me like a dark wave of moonlight in Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

  He squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, Presley, I’m getting ahead of myself. Tonight is all that matters.”

  It was reassuring that he understood my need to take whatever was happening between us semi-slow.

  I know. I’d let him—and encouraged him to—fondle me into a euphoria that had my knees collapsing earlier, but that was different. It was … I didn’t know what it was that made me do that! Totally unlike me. But it was an incredibly mind-blowing experience I’d never had and I was fine with that.

  In an attempt to be honest with myself, I wrestled with the fact that I wanted to let down every protective wall I’d ever put up when I was around Jude. Completely West/East Berlin those bitches to the ground and send a piece of brick to every asshole jock and bitchy girl I’d let into my head with their judgment and vile words. Then guide Jude in regardless of passport or citizenship. Unfortunately, the wall had become a shelter for my head and heart. My chest kicked as I stared at his handsome profile, wondering if what was built inside of me couldn’t be permanently removed.

  We made it to our reservation. The steak was exactly what I needed after a week of liquid diet.

  I took a sip of my wine. “I saw that dog is still on the Humane Society website today. I’ve looked at her picture almost every day since Sunday.”

  “I think that means something, Presley. What keeps you from adopting her?”

  “I don’t know. I think I’m afraid I won’t be good—” I closed my eyes as my heart started to pound.

  Be open.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m afraid I won’t be good enough for her. That I’ll fail her somehow.”

  His hand cupped my face. “Hey. You’re good enough. I’m sure you’d make a great pet owner.”

  I opened my eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

  Constantly.

  “How was work?” Jude inquired while cutting off a hunk of his twenty-ounce T-bone.

  “Drexel was an ass yesterday and again today.” I downed half my wine at the memory.

  “How was he an ass?” He gripped his knife a little tighter.

  I concentrated on cutting my filet into small pieces. “Well, he said something weird to me on Wednesday, something about my body and him looking at it like artwork. I chased him into the men’s restroom to bitch him out and walked in on my boss at the urinal. Not a good day.” I brought my eyes to Jude as he took a deep, controlled breath I couldn’t miss. “Yesterday he came up behind me and tried to…” I stopped talking when a flush of what I imagined was anger flared through Jude’s face.

  “Tried to what, Presley?”

  I waved away what I was going to say. “You know, it’s not a big deal. I’ve handled Dixless, that’s what Willow nicknamed him, for the last two years. I can handle it.”

  Jude set his silverware down and reached across the table to give my wrist a reassuring squeeze. “I’m listening to be supportive. I know you’re a strong person and can fight your own battles. Now what happened?”

  I shook my head in exasperation. “Well … he came up behind me and tried to put his tentacles on me.”

  “His testicles?” Jude asked loudly, and the people at the next table stopped talking.

  I giggled. “No. Tentacles. As in his slimy, creepy arms.”

  Jude tipped his head indicating the clarification did not make the story any better.

  I thought it did.

  I talked in a lower voice and finished the story quickly. “And then he asked me to go get a drink with him and when I told him I was seeing a guy he got all flustered and said something about how perfect I am. Today he trapped me at the copy machine and told me some story about how he’d like to get a drink to talk about why he’s such a jerk to me. He tried to paw at me that time, too.”

  Jude’s strong jaw hardened. “Presley, I guarantee that guy is interested in you, in a majorly fucked-up way.”

  “Dixless is only interested in being an immature, self-centered jerk. Always has been. Now tell me about your week.”

  Jude took a minute to collect himself, and although I would never consider myself a damsel in distress, it was kind of nice to see him get all worked up over Dixless’s juvenile but harmless antics.

  He cleared his throat. “I have nine clients now, after losing my favorite to, hopefully, a much better relationship.”

  A warm flush of happiness tickled my cheeks.

  He drank his beer and cleared his throat. “After Emerson was let go, the week went smoothly. Management is interviewing for her position. I hope Blake is a better judge of character this time.”

  “What do you know about Kai?”

  “She’s ex-military, just out of school, and she likes to do new, fresh workouts with her clients. Oh, and she’s gay.”

  I perked up. “She’s a lesbian?”

  “Thinking about Jace?”

  “Yeah. Her girlfriend dumped her last week. Do you know if Kai is dating anyone?”

  “She’s available. I remember her talking about needing a date for a black-tie event. I jokingly declined before she could ask and she made a comment about how my combination of chromosomes weren’t of interest to her. I suspected before, but that confirmed my suspicion.”

  When he’d finished every morsel of his steak, he insisted on paying the bill. I argued only until he leaned across the table and kissed me silent.

  Jude placed his napkin on the table. “You want to walk around for a while, maybe stop off at The Berry & Rye for a craft cocktail?”

  “Never been there, sounds interesting.”

  We leisurely walked around the Old Market, holding hands and gazing in windows at the contemporary and vintage finds that mingled effortlessly behind huge picture windows. The brick streets provided an antique-looking background to every block of history-filled buildings.

  He paused when we
were outside of The Berry & Rye, moved his hands to my waist, and pulled me closer. “You are beautiful, Presley. I consider myself the luckiest man on Earth tonight.”

  I brought my hands to his firm chest. “Cheesy, Ponytail, but I like cheese, so that’s Gouda for you.”

  He laughed as he dropped his forehead to mine. “Gouda to know. And I like cheese, too.”

  He kissed me with a tenderness and genuineness I’d never felt from a man before, like his emotions were right there for my lips to read, wordless movements that had so much meaning. Not going farther than lips on lips, the connection was the epitome of innocent and dreamy. My head floated full of desire, my body responded with a soft sigh of happiness, and my fingers tightened in his shirt. This kiss made every “perfect” movie kiss seem ridiculously phony. This was real.

  “Ready for a drink?” he asked after a couple of affected breaths and a quick hug.

  “Sure.”

  He led me inside the bar to where Kanyon and Willow were sitting on stools at a beautiful oak high-top table in the corner.

  “Hi, Willow, Kanyon. Been here long?”

  “Long enough to see the whipped male show outside.” Kanyon raised an eyebrow.

  Jude grunted. “Being open to PDA doesn’t make me whipped.” He pulled out a chair and motioned for me to sit.

  I glanced between Willow and Jude. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, I remember you and Willow like to dance, so I invited them along.”

  “Where are we going dancing?”

  “The Max,” Willow and Jude said simultaneously.

  I released a joyous girlie scream. “I’ve never been there and I’ve always wanted to go!”

  “Yeah, a little birdie told me that, too.”

  I stared at Willow. “Did you already know about our date before I told you?”

  The guilt was obvious in her lowered eyes.

  I shook my head. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

  “Cause it wasn’t mine to say something, it was yours.”

  I glanced to Kanyon. Our eyes met and his body fidgeted in his chair. His normal attractive-arrogant attitude withered into awkwardness.

  Willow continued, “Plus, it would have ruined the surprise.”

  The waitress arrived at the table breaking the semi-awkward moment. “What can I get you?”

  “I don’t know.” I reviewed the menu for the third time.

  “Do you mind if I order for you?” Jude asked.

  “Please.” I gave his thigh a squeeze.

  Jude covered my hand with his, trapping it with warmth. “Okay, the beautiful Presley will have a La Floridita, and I’ll have the Southern Savior.”

  “You two doing good?” the waitress asked Willow and Kanyon, and both nodded their agreement. “I’ll get this right in.”

  Jude moved his chair closer. “Watch the bartenders. This is a religion for them. The actual creation of a cocktail is only about ten percent of their job, the rest is creating the essences and clear, pure ice and fresh juices that go into the cocktail.”

  “Wow, impressive. How long have you bartended?”

  “About four years. I started to pay the bills while I was in the master’s program at ISU.”

  “Working as a bartender and other things,” Kanyon said with a smirk.

  “What other things?” My eyes wandered back to the mixologists at the bar carving strips of orange and lemon peel perfectly into curly-q shapes.

  “You’ll see later.” Kanyon smirked again and Jude rumbled his irritation.

  “So, Willow.” Jude leaned forward, resting his arms on the round high-top table. “Presley gave me a few samples, but I’d love to hear more of your prophylactic public service announcements.”

  Kanyon gave a hearty laugh. “What?”

  “Yeah, apparently Willow is a walking phrase generator of ways to say wrap your willie before you get silly.”

  Willow pretended to be lifting off a top hat in recognition of his efforts. “Nice. Maybe some other time, when we’re not in public. But I’m adding that one to my repertoire, Ponytail. How was your dinner?”

  After Willow changed the subject the conversation remained light and carefree while we enjoyed our delicious cocktails. Jude’s drink was good but mine was delicious, with just a hint of vanilla and cherry. I slid my chair closer to his and rested my head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around my shoulder.

  We walked to the dance club around ten o’clock. The doorman questioned my driver’s license because truly I looked nothing like in the picture. Jude made it crystal clear I was one and the same person, and the bouncer should drop the inquisition. The hunky black guy raised his eyebrows suggestively and told me how great I looked now.

  Jude pulled me along quickly. “See? The vibrating black item in your nightstand isn’t my only competition. I hate to think how big his thing is.”

  My eyes rolled in a huge circle. “Whatever.”

  “So, hip-hop or pop?” he asked, pointing to different rooms at opposite ends of the entryway.

  “Hip-hop? To start?”

  “Hip-hop it is.” He led me in, and although it was early, the dance floor was almost full. We found a table and Kanyon parked his cute ass on a stool.

  “Not a dancer?” I slipped off my jacket, draping it on the back of a chair.

  “When the mood hits me. That, or ten shots of tequila.”

  “I guess you just get to watch.” Willow did a little grind on him and he pulled her backside to his front and gave her a slow kiss over her shoulder.

  “Nice PDA,” Jude declared when they detached lips.

  “There’s a time and place for everything, Ponytail.”

  I followed Jude to the dance floor as Pitbull and Kesha’s “Timber” started playing. The first thing I noticed was all of the females—and most of the males—were gawking blatantly at my dance partner. The second thing I noticed was my dance partner knew how to dance, and it wasn’t that he was a good dancer, he was an excellent dancer. I gaped at the view for a minute. Soon Jude spun me on the dance floor, and I was laughing and not caring what anyone was looking at.

  After the song ended, two cute girls grabbed Jude’s hands and dragged him from me. He stared at me questioning intervention or disapproval. I smirked and shoulder-shrugged that I wasn’t going to stop them. I continued to dance alone, watching the unfolding scene. The duo of admirers helped Jude onto a stage in a place of honor in front of the DJ. Jude appeared totally comfortable as the center of attention. The music changed, and Willow joined me on the dance floor. Jude started a muscle-popping body roll that caused Willow’s mouth to open in awe. Kanyon must not have liked the ogling of his friend by his—whatever Willow was to him—because he slipped in behind her and said something in her ear to which she let out an energetic laugh.

  Pretty sure I know what Jude did to earn extra money besides bartend.

  His jean-covered hips gyrated in what could only be described as a Channing Tatum movie-inspired way. He teased the edge of his t-shirt up giving a small glimpse of his Adonis lines and half of his hard abdominals. The girls in front of him screamed like the club was on fire. His movements weren’t distasteful, just a surprise.

  And surprisingly hot.

  Even across the dance floor, Jude never took his eyes off mine. He ignored the attention of every pawing and transparently interested female and quite a few males in the club. After spotlight dancing to a couple of songs and providing a pretty spectacular show, Jude received a crowd full of disappointed jeers when he jumped down from the platform.

  We continued our emotionally charged stare-down as he meandered his way through the packed dance floor to me.

  His eyebrows rose before he spoke. “Can you guess what I did to earn extra money?”

  “I don’t care.”

  His brows snapped to a furrow. “What?”

  Having the four-inch wedges on my feet was offering up a smaller height advantage on his side, I wrapped my hand around his
neck and drew his ear down to my mouth. His large hands grasped my waist, and his fingers teased under my shirt and across my dewy skin.

  “I don’t care what you did before, but I do care what you do from this point forward.” I collected myself as my heart pounded to the pulsing rhythm of the music. “Jude, I don’t like you only because you can dance better than Magic Mike himself and not only because you have a godlike sculpted face and a dazzling smile, and not only because your body is ridiculously amazing and every girl is jealous of me right now, and not only because you can be the most genuine man I’ve ever met.” He leaned back to collect my gaze with his green- and gold-splattered brown eyes. I pulled him to me again. “Jude, even if any of those amazing things changed, I’d still like and want you because of who you are on the inside. I like all of you.”

  When he took a step back, I wondered if I put too much of myself on the table and he was going to run like the club was actually on fire.

  He began to move, his hard body grinding sensually and his hands holding my hips, leading me to circle against him. My very own standing lap dance with Jude. He spun me so my back was to his front and we danced intimately with the beat of the music in our own world. My hands wound up around his neck, his hands skimmed my body, and his velvety and hot lips seared against my neck. The heat of our bodies crushed to each other, the pounding beat of the music, the explosive flash of the lights, our carnal body movements, my head clouded with erotic images of the two of us unclothed in the same position, more than a physical attraction leading our bodies to connect. The moment was emotionally closer to any man than I’d ever been.

  We continued dancing for several songs, until we both agreed a break to hydrate was in order. I joined Kanyon and Willow back at the table while Jude went off to buy a beer and a vodka and diet.

  “What do you think of Jude’s dancing skills?” Willow asked.

  “Um, am-a-zing!” I fanned myself.

  “Are you going home with him?” Her eyes watched me closely.

  I blinked rapidly. “I don’t know, we haven’t discussed anything.”

  “I’m going to Kanyon’s tonight.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll text you what I decide.”

  “Please, remember it’s up to you, Prez. If you do … wrap that bait before you mate … cover his diddle then let him fiddle your middle.”

 

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