Carnal desire takes over and I buck my hips forward each time she lowers herself onto me. With the wall as leverage behind me, I grasp her waist and guide her up and down. Her petite but perfect breasts bounce as we move and my hands become eager to claim them, too. Leila digs her fingers into my scalp and I lower my head to take one taut nipple into my mouth.
“Holy shit, Jude. Don’t stop,” she demands. And I don’t. No, I don’t stop until we’re both satiated and exhausted; until she comes for me a second time and I’ve depleted myself inside her.
When our heartbeats regulate and our breathing returns to normal, Leila lifts her head from where it rests on my bare shoulder and her eyes meet mine. “I don’t know where that came from. Or who the hell we just were, but if there’s more of that to come, I’d marry you right now, Jude Romano.”
11
Leila
It’s settled. I’m getting married. To a stranger. In less than a week. It’s absolutely insane, I know. But then again, screwing said stranger on the floor of his family’s winery—three times—after only knowing him five hours is pretty insane, too. I blame Jude for turning me into this spontaneous, wild, carefree spirit. I haven’t had this much fun since—I can’t remember when. And even though my father will probably have a canary and write me off—at least until after Melissa’s nuptials in two weeks and this sham is over—it’s about time I live a little. Seems I’ve been missing out on the real adventures all this time.
“I still can’t believe Melissa hasn’t called looking for me,” I say as I pull my jeans up over my wobbly legs. Yes, my legs are wobbly as if I’ve spent the day doing countless lunges and squats—another thing I blame on Jude. It seems he knows how to work a girl out and make her feel heaven all at the same time.
“All the more reason to go through with the plan, Mrs. Romano.”
“Not so fast,” I shake my finger at him. “I still have to tell my father.” I look down at the buttons of my blouse to make sure I’ve refastened them correctly.
Jude is still gloriously naked and ogling me from his cozy spot in our special corner of the aging room. I’m pretty sure this room will never be the same. This batch of wine might even be tainted by the sounds and sights that took place over the last few hours of me and Jude . . . getting to know each other. “What?” I ask when he doesn’t take his eyes off me and grins.
“Nothing.” He laughs through his nose. “Just admiring the view.”
“Well,” I say, tossing his jeans at him. “Get up. It’s time to get back to reality—or our crazy version of reality that you talked me into—before I change my mind again.”
He lifts up on his elbows and arches a thick, sexy brow. “If I recall, you were the one telling me yes, yes, yes over and over again. I can easily rescind my offer and ask someone else to spend the rest of their days in the arms of this Italian Stallion.”
I laugh and roll my eyes, throwing his crumpled shirt at his head. Seems the multiple, amazing orgasms he gifted me with this afternoon have gone straight to his head. “Let’s not get carried away. We both know this isn’t forever. It’s revenge, remember?” Jude ignores my statement and pulls his shirt over his head. Seeing him covered again makes me wonder if this will be the last time we’re this carefree. This is a game. A fun little scheme. I’d be stupid to think his marriage proposal or our roll in the hay has any deep-rooted significance. That thought disappoints me, a stab of sadness nicking me in the gut. This isn’t forever, Leila, but maybe it’s a start?
There’s no time to get lost in my daydream, however, because it’s time to get down to business if anyone’s to believe our ruse is real. “I’ll go outside and call my dad. I don’t want to go back to the bed & breakfast tonight, though. We have our rooms for another night and then tomorrow is spa day, but I can’t bring myself to—”
“To leave me. I know.” A sloppily re-dressed Jude is at my side, chiding me.
“Never mind that, egomaniac. I’m serious. Where will I stay? How will I get back to Rochester? I’m not getting in a car with Melissa or her friends any time soon. I’m kind of stranded here.”
“You’re not stranded,” he assures me as he caresses my shoulder. “Tonight, you can stay at my place. Well—my mom’s place, to be precise. You still have to break the news to your dad, but if I know my grandmother, word’s already out about the two of us. Mom’s a great sport, so no worries there, but I think she’d still like to meet the woman I’m marrying in less than seven days.”
I shake my head, baffled. “This is so not how I saw the rest of this day going.”
Jude leans in and steals a quick kiss. Add that to the list of things I never imagined happening today. I pull him closer and savor our moment, knowing our bubble is about to burst when I try to explain this to my father.
“Okay. So.” I go over the notes I’ve written in my phone. “As long as I play this cool, Melissa won’t put two and two together and tell Dad you’re the guy from the winery. I don’t need her basking in the glory of being right when she labelled me a slut.”
“You’re not a slut, Leila. We’re practically married, remember?” Jude winks, cupping my face in his calloused palm.
I cover his hand with mine, appreciating his touch, needing his comfort to get me through this. The temperature has dropped some now that the sun has faded, so I grab the fuzzy jacket from the Santa suit that’s peeking out of one Jude’s decoration boxes. I wrap it around my body with a giggle, take a deep breath, and walk over to the solace of the willow tree where I first unleashed all my issues on Jude. As I meander, I speak into my phone and say, “Call Daddy.”
As I’m waiting for the call to connect, my heartrate flutters erratically. After three painstakingly long rings, he answers. “Hey, Buttercup, what’s doing?”
I smile at his nickname for me and the cheerfulness of his tone. That smile is quickly replaced by a frown of worry as I remember I’m about to lie to my father. “Hey, Daddy,” I croon, laying the sweetness on ever so thickly. “How’s it going over there? You still working on those drawings for the new library?” Dad’s a successful architect, a master of his trade. He loves his job like he loves his kids. Hopefully, he’ll be too distracted by his library project to pay full attention to what I’m about to tell him.
“Yup. I was just about to take a little break to eat. Can’t believe how the day got past me like this.” I can hear him removing his glasses and placing them on his desk. “So, what’s up? Everything honkey dory on your girls’ weekend?”
“Actually.” I cringe. “That’s one of the reasons I’m calling. Melissa kind of ditched me, Daddy.” Word of advice: use the word Daddy as much as possible when trying to get your way or pull the wool over the poor man’s eyes. It’s a weakness. His kryptonite. I can only pray it works as well as it has in the past.
“Oh? What do you mean? You’re not in trouble or anything, are you? I can be there in—”
“No, Daddy. It’s okay. I’m fine. You know how Melissa can be. I was kind of feeling left out of her group anyway, so maybe this is for the better.”
“But—she just left you? Where? As soon as I get off the phone with you, I’m calling her to settle this. What is wrong with that girl? Dear God, she’s becoming more and more like her mother as she gets older.”
“Daddy?” I laugh, regaining his attention. “I’m okay. Really. I ran into an old . . . um . . . friend at one of the wineries, so it’s not like I’m alone. I’m a little pissed, but whatever. What else is new? We both know Melissa and I will never be besties. I’m fine with that if you’re fine with that.”
He huffs and I can envision him shaking his head with his fingers kneading his creased forehead. “I don’t know what to do with her. I really thought this wedding would bring you two closer. I just don’t get it, but that’s where your mom used to come in. Times like this make me miss her even more.”
Oh crap! I didn’t expect to go down this path. Whenever we get on the topic of Mom all bets are off. He b
ecomes mushy and sad and I need him attentive and—who the hell am I kidding? This is a blessing in disguise! The more vulnerable he is, the more willing he’ll be to accept what I’m about to tell him. I’m sure I’m going to hell for toying with my father’s emotions this way, but let’s not forget all I’ve sacrificed to make him happy and keep the peace. A little white lie and a big white wedding won’t kill him. I hope.
“Aw, Daddy. You’re doing a great job. I know you miss her. I do too, but she’d be so proud of how well you’re taking care of me. And Melissa, too. She’d be so excited for this wedding and I bet she’s watching down on you smiling, loving that you’ve been so involved in the plans. Weddings were her favorite. Remember? I’m pretty sure she even crashed one or two in her day just to be in on the fun.”
Dad chuckles and I smile remembering how vibrant and full of life my mother was when she was healthy. I look up to the sky then, summoning her strength and acceptance for what I’m about to do. Mom, you loved weddings. I know this isn’t the real deal, but give me your blessing. Make Dad understand. It’s childish to want to get back at Melissa this way, but . . . there’s something telling me to see this through. It’s then that I realize that thing is Jude. He makes me feel alive—the way my mother always lived her life. Spontaneous, unrehearsed, in the moment.
“Daddy?” I broach. I’m sure I’m interrupting one of his many daydreams about my deceased mother.
“Yes, Buttercup.”
“I have something to tell you.”
“Sure. What is it?” He clears his throat. I can see the crow’s feet around his kind eyes crinkling in question.
“So, I know we don’t discuss my dating life much because, well, that was kind of Mom’s department, but that old friend I ran into . . .” I pause, hoping to get this right without screwing it up.
“Yeah? Go on.”
“Well, that old friend is really someone I used to date a while back. I met him in . . . Well, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that when I saw him again—when we saw each other again—it all came flooding back. I’ve missed him. The timing wasn’t right for us back then, but now . . . Daddy, he’s always been the one who got away for me. I feel as though fate stepped in today. I feel as if I need to see this through.”
Jude eyes me from where he’s unraveling a string of red and green lights, out of earshot. None of what I just said is true, but somehow it kind of is. Fate totally stepped in today.
“That’s wonderful, Leila. You know I wish nothing but happiness for you, Buttercup. If this man makes you happy, I say go for it!” He sounds genuine. That sort of breaks my heart. But I’ve come this far and there’s no turning back now.
“I’m glad you said that, Daddy, because . . . well . . . He asked me to marry him and I said yes.” I wince, ready for a loud remark or reprimand, but when he simply asks, “Really? Well, when?” I take another deep, steadying breath and continue with the plan.
“Um. When, you ask.” I nibble at my thumbnail, tracing the circle I’ve created in the ground with my foot. “You see, that’s the funny thing. We don’t want to wait. We’ve spent too much time apart as it is. So, I know this is going to sound crazy, but love is crazy, Daddy, you know this. We want to marry next weekend. A small ceremony here in Seneca. And of course I want you to give me away.”
“Next weekend?” he shouts. “That’s just not possible. Your sister is getting married the week after that! This is crazy! So unlike you! I haven’t even met the guy and I’m in Manhattan for the majority of the upcoming week. I would like to know the man who’s marrying my little girl before I can give my blessing. I know you have your heart set on this, but it’ll just have to wait. There’s no rush. Love waits, Leila.”
Ugh. This is killing me, but I’ll have to pull out all the stops. “That’s the thing, Daddy. Love doesn’t wait. You know as well as I do that there is no time like the present. Life is fleeting. Here one day and gone the next. I need you to trust me, Daddy. I know what I’m doing. I promise you. I know what I’m doing.”
But do I? I just lied to my father, all in the name of a silly game. My heart is telling me one thing; my brain is battling to make me consider another. I’m pretty sure I’ve just done something very foolish. Only when I look back at Jude—the stranger who is no longer a stranger after today’s adventures—something tells me I’m not making a mistake at all.
12
Jude
The conversation with her dad went better than expected, but from my vantage point—watching her from the driver’s side as she stares out the window—I can tell something’s not right.
“You okay?” I ask, wishing the playful Leila from earlier today would resurface.
“I’m fine.” She sighs and then turns to me with a smile.
“We can call the whole thing off if you want. It was fun while it lasted but I hate seeing you so pensive.”
She reaches over and rests her hand on my thigh. I look down but quickly bring my eyes back to the road. “We’re not calling this off. Every time I replay what Melissa did to me and how she’s always treated me, the more I want to get back at her. And you know what—maybe this sounds absolutely certifiable, but the more I think about it, the more excited I get.”
“Yeah?” I egg her on, happy she’s finally out of her funk.
“Hells yeah! I’ve always wanted to live on the wild side. My father is on board and I’m having the time of my life with you. I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints.”
I chuckle, recognizing the line from the Billy Joel song. “You’re something else, Leila Burke. You know that?”
“I could say the same about you, Jude Romano, but your ego is already as big as this car.”
We share a knowing glance and I wink at her. I take the opportunity in the few minutes before we arrive at my mom’s to give her the low down. “So, my mom—MariaLena Romano—she’s a bit to handle, but I have no doubt she’ll love you. In fact, I bet she’ll try to persuade you to marry me for real before the week is up. She’s that convincing, Leila, be warned.”
Her brows rise at attention, her eyes sparkling with question. “Why haven’t you settled down? You’re a great guy, Jude. I’m surprised you haven’t already been snatched up and made into an honest man.”
I lick my lips and grin. “The right girl hasn’t come along yet.” I pause for effect. Letting her know that maybe, just maybe, that might not be the case anymore. She bats her lashes and looks down at her lap so I continue to answer her question. “Besides, I’ve been busy at the vineyard and with my music. I haven’t had much time to date. If it were up to my mom I’d already be married with a brood of kids, but who does that at our age anymore? From what I’ve seen lately, the new norm is to wait until your thirties to settle down.”
“Huh,” Leila grunts.
“What?”
“I don’t see it that way at all. I don’t think there should be rules when it comes to the timing of settling down. Me, personally, I’d love to be married with kids of my own at this point in time. I firmly believe there is no time like the present. Ever since my mom died, I sorta can’t think any other way. What if tomorrow never comes, you know?”
I never thought of it that way, but then again, I never had to. “Lucky for us, then, huh?”
She shakes her head, her focus on the windshield as she watches the colorful tree-lined road unravel before us. “Let’s not pretend this is something it’s not, Jude. I like you. I think you’re sweet and we had a great time today, but we can’t take this too seriously. It wouldn’t be right.”
How’s that for a dose of reality? The bold part of my brain wants to offer up a dare—what if I can prove you wrong, Leila Burke? But the sensible part of my brain doesn’t want my heart to get stomped on because of something impractical. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I concede, even though I disagree for whatever crazy reason.
After that, we drive the rest of the way to my mom’s in silence, Leila admiring the
scenery passing us by and me appreciating the remarkable scenery right beside me.
Once the introductions are out of the way, my mother gets right down to business—stuffing our faces with homemade lasagna that she prepared especially for the occasion. We enjoy the delicious meal and get to know each other with small talk all while Mom does her best to hide how excitedly she’s appraising the situation.
My mother sits back down after clearing the places and then prods, “So, Leila, tell me more about this witch of a sister.”
“Ma!” I hide my eyes in embarrassment.
“What?” my mother asks, palms open and facing the heavens.
“It’s okay,” Leila assures both my mother and me. “That’s the whole reason we’re here, isn’t it?”
No, we’re here because I can’t get enough of you, and part of me wishes you’d take this proposal seriously and make me the happiest man alive. “Um . . . yes, yeah, right.”
Leila giggles and playfully places a soft slap on my cheek. I cup her hand so it stays in place and we both lose ourselves for a moment in each other’s gaze. Out of the corner of my eye I catch my mother watching the way Leila and I interact. I haven’t seen Mom’s eyes dance with such warmth, such happiness, in quite a while. I don’t often give her a reason to be proud, but the moment I escorted Leila through our front door, my mother looked at me with a different set of eyes.
“Anyway.” Leila breaks the spell shrouding us. “As Jude can attest, Melissa is a class A, piece of . . . work.” Mom’s eyebrow sharpens into a V but the grin on her face and the way she’s folded her hands in anticipation of a juicy story urge Leila to continue. “My dad was married to her mother many years ago. They divorced shortly after she was born, and he’s always made sure to be part of her life. His first wife is not a nice woman—like mother, like daughter, I suppose—but my father always did right by them, went above and beyond to give Melissa the best and to be there for her whenever he could. Even after he remarried, divorced again, and then finally married my mom.” Her voice catches at the mention of her mother, emotion written all over her face.
Eat, Drink and Be . . . Married Page 6