Pulling my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, I ignored the weird flutter I got just from looking at his name, gritted my teeth, and hit the call button.
It went straight to voicemail.
I hated leaving messages, loathed it, and almost always screwed them up and said something utterly ridiculous. This was too important to screw up. Ending the call, I rummaged around in my purse and pulled his business card from my wallet. I didn’t want to leave this another night. He was expecting his rent money tomorrow. If I didn’t tell him it’d be late, he might come back to the house, and I wanted to avoid any more face time with that man if I could.
Quickly tapping out the number on the card, before I chickened out, I put my phone to my ear. It rang a few times, then a woman’s voice greeted me. “The King Agency, Lulu speaking.”
“Um hi…yeah, I was wondering if I could speak to Jude Wayland, please?” My butterflies intensified, flapping their tiny fucking wings against my ribs.
“He’s out of the office right now, can I give him a message?”
I didn’t really have any other choice, so I rattled off my name and number, and asked her to get him to call me back.
“Willa?” the woman said, repeating my name, like she somehow knew me, or knew of me.
“Yeah,” I said, sharper than I’d intended.
“Right, okay,” the woman said urgently. “You hang tight, I’ll see what I can do. Give me five.” Then she hung up.
I pulled the phone from my ear and stared down at it. What the hell was that? I shoved my phone back in my pocket and went back to the living room to check on Tilly. She was still asleep.
God, my life, it was nothing like I’d planned, didn’t resemble anything I’d imagined for myself. Before Rebecca had died, I’d worked at a salon cutting hair. I was good at it, too. It was something I’d wanted to do since I was a little kid. I’d assumed marriage to Eric was next for me, maybe my own salon one day. I tucked my pink hair behind my ear. It was all I had left of that old life, and once the boxes of dye I’d bought on sale months ago ran out, that would be gone, too.
A salon was out of the question now, but I had Tilly, and being everything she needed was all that mattered.
I shook my head, shoving the useless memories out of my mind, and headed to the kitchen, taking the opportunity to get a light dinner started, just in case she was hungry when she woke.
I’d started taking vegetables out of the fridge when my phone vibrated. I quickly checked it.
Landlord flashed on the screen.
Okay, that was quick. “Hello…um, Jude.”
“Talk to me,” he bit out.
He sounded impatient and kind of angry. Shit, great timing, Willa.
I cleared my throat. “Right…well, this month’s rent, it’s um…” Spit it out. “It’s going to be a little late.”
Silence.
Shit, he wasn’t happy.
“Jude…I mean, Mr. Wayland…”
He growled, a full on, from the throat, animal growl. The man wasn’t just not happy, he was pissed. Oh God, he was going to kick us out. What the hell would I do, where would we go? What would I…
“That’s why you called my office?” he said in a low, rough way that lifted the hair on the back of my neck.
A little shiver slid through me at that roughness, a shiver that was not at all bad, despite the direction the conversation was going. “Well…yes.”
“Fuck,” he said even lower. “You didn’t think to just leave a message on my cell?”
“Ummm,” I said, seriously starting to think I’d made some kind of mistake.
“Woman, I told you to call that number if you were worried about something; that something being an asshole banging on your fucking door. I’m working a kidnapping case right now, so yeah, I’m a little busy to talk about your rent,” he clipped out.
“A kidnapping case?”
“Christ,” he muttered.
I heard another voice, low as well, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Got to go.” Then he ended the call.
Oh shit. I’d messed up. Badly. My surly landlord was working a freaking kidnapping case, and I’d pulled him away from it to talk about my rent. How the hell was I supposed to know? He said to call if I was worried about anything. Yes, but I assumed that meant other things…like late rent. I cringed, even as another shiver fired through me. His job was obviously dangerous. Did he have a gun? Did he beat the shit out of bad guys and rescue people in danger? It was easy to imagine Jude doing all of those things.
I cursed. He was definitely going to kick us out now, there was no doubt in my mind. Only a week ago, he’d been called because of Trent showing up, and now this.
Tilly cried out, so I did my best to shove it all aside and rushed back to my niece.
It was ten o’clock, Tilly had gone back to sleep, and I’d just checked on her.
She was in my bed, so I could keep an eye on her during the night. She seemed a lot better, but she liked to be close to me when she was unwell.
I needed a cup of tea. My nerves were shot and tea had always been my mother’s solution to everything. Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t do jack shit to help my current situation.
I was coming down the stairs when there was a knock at the front door.
I froze.
Was Trent back? No way could I deal with him tonight.
“It’s me,” a deep voice said, muffled through the door. “Jude.”
The lights were on in the living room, and the TV was going. No point in pretending I was already in bed. As much as I wanted to, there was no ignoring him. Crap.
I walked to the door, straightened my spine, planted a hand on my hip, and yanked the door open. “It’s a little late for an inspection, don’t you think, Mr. Landlord?”
His brown eyes took me in and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “Attitude? That’s what you’re going with?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Woman, I’ve had a prick of a day. I’m not in the mood to take shit from you.”
Um, what now?
His eyes moved over me again and that muscle jumped for the second time.
I glanced down at myself. I was wearing white shorts and a black ribbed tank top. Nothing special, definitely not sexy. I looked back up and his eyes were on my tits, which I also didn’t get. I barely had tits. I had a handful at most, well, for an average man. Jude’s big hands would swallow my modest B-cups and…
Stop. Why are you thinking about your landlord’s hands on your tits?
“Why are you here?” I bit out. My default was to get defensive. Stupid, especially in this situation, but I had impulse control issues around this guy apparently.
His brows rose. “Seriously?”
Seriously, I needed to rein it waaaay back. I needed this man to not kick me out and he was right, I was giving him attitude. But dammit, I was freaking the hell out.
“Okay, look, about calling your work…”
I trailed off, hoping he’d throw me some kind of lifeline here, so I didn’t have to grovel, but his expression did not change. Those brown eyes stayed locked on mine, waiting for me to spit out the rest of what I had to say. Awesome.
“Right, well, I misunderstood what you meant and I guess I was worrying about not being able to make rent. And I…” I gritted my teeth and forced the words I need to say forward. It was hard; I hated apologizing, especially to a man. I hated being beholden to anyone…any man, for anything. “I ah, I made a bad call. I’m sorry, okay,” I rushed out.
His expression did not change for several seconds, then a wicked glint brightened those brown peepers.
“That looked like it hurt,” he said.
I ignored how highly attractive that made him look and pushed on. I needed to make him understand. We couldn’t lose this house. “I know this is not ideal. But I’ll find another job, and I’ll make up the rent. Like I said, I freaked. I thought you might get pissed when your money wa
sn’t there tomorrow. I thought you might…it’s just, Tilly and I can’t lose this house.”
He was silent a beat. “You thought I’d what?”
The sound of his voice registered and I looked at him, properly. He was serious and intense again. Jesus, I sucked at this. “Well, I thought you might…” Shit.
“Go on,” he said, in a voice that was deceptively calm.
“I’m not very good at this,” I said, because I obviously wasn’t, and somehow, I managed to hit every one of his hot buttons.
One of his arms went up and he gripped the door frame above his head. His bicep bulged. It was massive. The thing was probably the size of one of my thighs.
“You thought I was the kind of asshole who’d kick a woman and kid out on the street?” he said. “Is that what you thought?”
Yep, I was screwing this up, big time. I opened my mouth, closed it.
“Nothing to say for once?”
“I thought that might be for the best,” I said.
“You’re not wrong,” he rumbled. “You want to talk about what’s going on?”
“Nope.”
He stared at me for several long seconds, like he was trying to see inside my head, or I’d suddenly break and spill the beans. When I didn’t, he said, “I’m not going to kick you out, Willa.”
I crossed my arms, suddenly feeling vulnerable, and hating the sympathetic look now on his face. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
More silence, those soulful brown eyes now assessing me. “Look, maybe we can work something else out?”
I blinked, in shock, which didn’t last long and was quickly followed by eye-gouging rage. “I’m not sleeping with you in exchange for rent, you fucking perv.”
He jerked back, his entire body kind of convulsing, like I’d kneed him directly in the balls.
I pointed at him. “You have some goddamn nerve…”
“Christ,” he muttered, then leaned in a little. “I don’t know how you made that insane leap, but sweetheart, I’m not so hard up I need to blackmail women for sex.”
Heat hit my face instantly. Shit. “So you…you weren’t…”
“That’s some crappy opinion you have of me.” He crossed his arms over his wide chest.
I really didn’t think I could make this whole thing any worse. “Sorry.”
The way he was looking at me, I couldn’t decide if he wanted to throttle me or laugh his ass off. He definitely looked frustrated.
“Sure, you are.” He shook his head and drew in what I could only assume was a calming breath. “Look, let’s start again, yeah? I’m sorry I acted like a dick when I called earlier. I can get like that when I’m worried, but I’m not the guy you think I am. What I was actually going to say was, maybe you could keep an eye on Fay. She’s tough and independent, but she’s getting older and I don’t like that she’s on her own. Keep her company from time to time, and we’ll call it even until you’re back on your feet.”
He’d been worried, about us?
I shoved that aside as quickly as it entered my head, choosing to ignore that part completely.
As far as Fay was concerned, she’d draw and quarter the man for even suggesting she was getting older and needed some kind of keeper. Fay was more active and social than I was. Also, Fay was a friend, my only friend, so I was doing that already. I was pretty damned sure Jude knew this. He definitely knew she looked after Tilly. He’d seen me there more than once, which meant…well, honestly, I had no idea what it meant. But I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like charity, and yeah, as far as I was concerned, this would mean I owed him. I so wasn’t on board for that, not one bit, but what choice did I have? Tilly needed a safe place to live and until I found another job, he had me over a barrel.
That thought was accompanied by an extremely graphic mental image.
I shoved it out of my head as soon as it popped in. My face got hotter. But not over the “Adults Only” visuals. Humiliation scolded every inch of my skin and I couldn’t hold his eyes. My mother had struggled raising us on her own; we’d had nothing growing up, but we always had a decent place to live, and she sure as hell had never had to take charity, or beg her landlord not to throw her and her kids out. “Thanks, that’s…yeah, that’s really cool of you, but I’ll pay you back what I owe.”
“Up to you,” he said. “But there’s no rush.”
I didn’t know what to say, and the silence stretched out between us.
“Right, I need to go, got work to do,” he said finally.
I glanced up and for the first time that night, I took him in properly. He was wearing black cargo style pants, and a dark tee. He had ink on one of his forearms, script, but from this angle, I couldn’t read what it said. He also had one of those bulletproof vests you see on action movies, strapped to his monster chest, and a holster at his hip that I guessed was for a gun. It was empty now, and I assumed that was for my benefit.
The man was impressive, there was no denying it. And hot. So freaking hot. Nothing like Evan. Evan had only been a couple inches taller than me. Yeah, muscular, but not the kind of bulky muscle that Jude had; more angular, a skinny guy who went to the gym.
Stop it, Willa.
I needed to stop thinking about Jude like that.
I motioned at him, a head to toe, encompassing all he had on. “The kidnapping case?”
He shoved his fingers though his hair. “Yeah.”
He looked frustrated all over again, and tired.
“Willa,” Tilly moaned.
“I’m coming, Tils.” I looked back at Jude. “I have to…” Tilly cried out sharply, there was a thump, then she started to really cry. I turned and ran, leaving Jude standing at the door.
I rushed upstairs to the bedroom. She’d accidentally knocked over her glass of water, grabbing for the bowl I’d put by the bed. “You promised when I woke I’d feel better, you promised,” she sobbed, then pulled the bowl closer and vomited again.
When she was done, I pulled her into my arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I’ll get your medicine soon, okay? As soon as I can.” I rocked her until she quieted, then lay her down carefully and grabbed the washcloth I’d been using on her forehead and cleaned her up. “I’ll just get another cloth for your head, honey, I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t answer. She’d gone back inside herself, like I did when I had migraines, to deal with the pain.
I rushed out the door and almost collided with Jude. He was just outside the bedroom.
“She okay?” he asked.
Jesus, I thought he’d left. “She’ll be fine.”
“Medicine?”
I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to tell him to get the hell out of my house and mind his own damn business, but it was his house, and now I wasn’t even paying rent. He’d also been extremely good about it. “She suffers migraines, like me, like her mother had.”
His head tilted to the side. “You’re not her mother?”
“No, her aunt. Her mother, my sister, died a while back.”
His eyes filled with sympathy. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry to hear that.”
His words were genuine, and for some messed up reason a rush of emotion hit me from nowhere. “I’m not your sweetheart,” I said, instead of thank you, because I couldn’t go there, not when I was feeling so vulnerable. I’d fall apart in front of him, and I refused to. I would not show him weakness. He may seem like a nice guy, but I didn’t know anything about him. He may not want to blackmail me for sex, but I’d placed myself in a bad position. He knew I was desperate. He could turn that on me at any time.
He ignored my biting comeback and instead said, “She needs medication?”
“Yes.”
“Give me the prescription, I’ll go pick it up.”
“You think I would leave her to suffer if I could afford it?” I said.
“Add it to what you owe me for rent.”
“I don’t need your damned charity…”
“Prescription, Willa. I don’t have time to argue this shit with you. I’ll get it, you pay me back when you can.”
“Now hang on…”
“For fuck’s sake, woman. You’ve got issues. I don’t know what they are, but it doesn’t take a genius to work out you don’t trust easily, especially men, or maybe it’s just me?”
I opened my mouth to respond, and he talked right over me.
“Whatever. I don’t have all night to figure your shit out. I need to get back to work, and you have a kid in there who needs her medication. I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for Tilly. I don’t want anything in return. I don’t like to see that little girl suffer…”
“And you think I do?” I fired back.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he barked. “No, I damn well don’t, which is why I want you to get me the fucking prescription so she can feel better.”
I blinked up at him. So many things I wanted to say…
“Now,” he growled.
I wasn’t a fan of his tone, but I couldn’t deny Tilly the meds she needed. And I realized I’d pay whatever his price was to make sure she didn’t have to be in pain any longer. I should be groveling at his feet; instead, I stared back at him and made sure he knew how much I did not like the way he’d just spoken to me, with a whole lot of who-the-fuck-do-you-think-you-are thrown in. Then I spun away, walked back into my room, snatched the prescription, and slapped it into his hand.
“Thank you,” he said, tone arrogant as hell, then he headed downstairs. I followed, watching him as he walked out the door, shutting it behind him without a backward glance.
I stared in stunned silence.
What the hell was that?
A text lit up my phone, twenty minutes later.
Left it at the door.
I opened the front door and sure enough, there it was. Tilly’s medication.
How was I ever going to repay him?
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