Guess that meant I wasn’t joining her in there.
As I dried off and got dressed, it was sinking in that she was definitely acting a little off. It wasn’t like I knew what she was like in the morning, exactly. Some people were groggy in the morning, or short with their words or just plain out of it until they had a coffee. But this wasn’t that.
Maybe she was put off by the fact that I’d asked her to meet me at Brody and Jessa’s place—instead of asking her to go with me?
If so, I really wasn’t sure how to make up for it, other than pull out her Christmas gift a little early.
When she got out of the shower, I had it sitting on the kitchen table. I was dressed, but she’d taken it to the next level. Clothes on, purse on her shoulder and jacket in hand, like she was ready to leave a trail of dust. When she saw the gift box, though, she stopped.
She looked at me, then looked at it again.
“Another gift from Janice?” she asked me, completely deadpan.
Jesus, the girl had sass.
“Read the damn card.”
She set her jacket and purse down and carefully nudged open the little folded tag that I’d barely been able to write on, it was so damn tiny.
“Veronica,” she read aloud. “Merry Christmas.” She turned it over. “Hmm. It’s not signed by anyone.”
“Must be from damn Santa Claus.”
“Guess he came early?”
“Don’t be a brat.”
A smile spread, tentatively, across her face. Her cheeks were kinda flushed from her shower, her black hair a little damp, but she still didn’t have any makeup on, and I had this weird thought that she was gonna look really beautiful when she got old. One of those women who just got better with age. Her black hair turning gracefully to silver and then white, and her pale skin just suiting her and all the old guys hound-dogging all over her.
Jesus.
The fuck was wrong with me?
The holidays were making me sentimental as fuck, or something.
I watched as she very carefully, almost timidly, slipped her fingers under the tape and gradually peeled open the silver wrapping paper with the little bells all over it. The woman at the store chose it, and by the way Roni was treating it like it was fine-spun gold, I figured it was a good choice. She finally unwrapped the white box inside, then started the process all over again with the tape that was holding the box together.
“While we’re young, sweetheart. Christmas is gonna come and go.”
She threw me a quick glare and resumed peeling. When she’d worked the lid open, she pulled it back, exposing the silvery-gray tissue paper inside. She plucked at it gently, loosening it from the gift in the box.
“You’re killin’ me.”
She smiled a little, then finally peeled the tissue paper back enough to work her hands inside. She grasped her gift and pulled it out, holding it in her hands. It gleamed in the morning sunlight.
She cocked her head and looked at me kinda sideways.
“It’s a vase,” I said, like an idiot.
“For a second,” she said, “I swear to God, I thought it was gonna be a gun or something. You know, for my ‘protection.’”
“That why you were handling it like a bomb about to blow?”
“I just wanted to savor it,” she said, looking embarrassed. She gazed at the vase. “It’s beautiful, Jude.”
“You know, to replace the one I broke.”
Her green eyes hit mine, and it shocked me, deep, like it often did. “We broke it together.”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “It’s not a big deal. Jessa helped me pick it out. She said you’d like it.”
She was turning it over in her hands, carefully. “It’s crystal.”
“There’s a gift receipt inside. If it’s not what you want.”
She tucked it carefully back into the box. Then she gripped the back of my neck and stood up on her toes to kiss me. My arms went around her, holding her up, and my mouth slammed over hers, and what was probably meant to be a sweet Thank you for the gift sort of kiss turned into the deep, dirty, nasty, wet sort of kiss they put at the beginning of a really good porno.
“It’s the best… present… ever…” she said, in-between sucking face with me. “And now you can buy me more flowers… to go in it…”
Then her phone started buzzing.
She ripped away, her lips swollen and wet. She frowned a bit. “Damn.”
“Ignore it?” I held her against me, but she tried to wriggle away, looking apologetic. I released her and she fished the buzzing phone out of her purse.
“Shit,” she mumbled, as I adjusted my hard-on in my jeans, “it’s my mom.”
“You’re not gonna answer it?”
She raised an eyebrow, like Maybe not.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” I reminded her.
She kinda grumbled under her breath—something about And now he’s Mr. Nice Guy…?—and finally picked up the phone. “Hey, Mom.”
I listened, and even though I’d never met Roni’s mom, the way the conversation rolled, Roni’s end kinda clipped and guarded, I figured out a whole lot of shit about their relationship, fast. At least, Roni’s side of it.
“Yeah. I’m not sure yet, Mom. I was maybe gonna meet up with Jessa…” Her eyes met mine.
When? I mouthed at her.
Tonight! she mouthed back.
I shook my head at her, slowly.
She turned away. “Yeah, I’m here. I can maybe let you know—”
I plucked the damn phone out of her hand.
“Cindy?” No, I’d never met her, but I knew the woman’s name. Knew a lot about her, actually.
“Hello?” Roni’s mom said. “Who’s this?”
“This is Jude. I’m a friend of Roni’s.” I glanced at Roni, who was standing there in shock.
“Oh?” Roni’s mom said.
“Sounds like we’ve just confirmed our plans for tonight,” I informed her. “Havin’ dinner over at Jessa Mayes’ place. Kind of a pre-Christmas thing. Few people. You’re welcome to join, if you’re free.”
Roni’s mouth floated open.
“Oh. Well… yes. That would be nice. I haven’t seen Jessa in a long time.”
“I’m sure she’d love it if you came. Have you met the baby yet?”
Roni snapped out of her shock and made a grab for the phone. I held her off with one arm.
“No,” her mom was saying. “No, Roni mentioned she had a little boy, and I sent a card, you know, but I haven’t seen her in so long…”
“Great. I’ll let her and Brody know you’re coming.” I gave her the address, then hung up and handed the phone back to Roni. “That so hard?”
She glared at me. “What did you just do.”
“I invited your mom to Christmas Eve dinner.”
She sighed and started typing on her phone.
“What’re you doin’?”
“I’m telling her it’s a potluck, so she better bring something nice.” She sent the text and stuffed the phone back in her purse.
I studied her.
“You don’t want to see your mom at Christmas?”
“You don’t understand. She made no plans to see me.”
“At Christmas?”
“Jude.” She looked up at me, hands on her hips. “This is what she does. Whatever plans she had for tonight must’ve fallen through. And I promise you, if she did have plans, they were with a man. I’m her last minute backup on Christmas Eve. I’m always her last minute backup.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Trust me. I know. If there was any chance she was getting laid tonight, she wouldn’t be calling me.”
I took hold of her and gathered her into my arms. Girl looked frazzled as fuck, and I’d really never seen Roni frazzled. “She’s your mom, Roni. It’s Christmas Eve. Maybe she’ll surprise you.”
She laid her head on my chest. “No. She won’t. She will be incredibly unsurprising.”
; “Maybe she’ll surprise me.” Roni peered up at me and I grinned. “I’ve never met her.”
“There’s a reason,” she muttered. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just initiated? Cindy Webber in a room full of rock stars? Christ.”
She looked exhausted just considering it.
I gave her a squeeze. “I work security for Dirty, babe. Think I can handle one randy woman in a room full of rock stars.”
She looked at me like I was an idiot. “You haven’t met this one.”
“If she’s anything like you, darlin’,” I said, with a healthy dose of sarcasm, “putty in my hands.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Roni
As it turned out, I went over to Jessa’s place earlier than I’d expected because she called me all in a twitter, asking for help.
Since she so rarely asked for help, I took it as a compliment and got my ass over there.
I wore a soft, hunter-green sweater with a beaded black pattern of leaves on one shoulder and my black leather leggings, and I put soft curls in my hair. I’d given myself smoky eyes with a little sparkle and soft red lips with gloss. Of all types of parties, I adored holiday parties. The festive feel. The food. The cozy feeling of being in a warm house with friends.
And knowing I’d get to enjoy this one with Jude didn’t hurt.
I packed a small overnight bag just in case, left my car at home and took a cab. That way, I could drink or stay as late as I wanted and not worry about it. I’d maybe even stay over if that was best.
Or stay over at Jude’s again.
It took a while to get through downtown and over the Lions Gate Bridge; it was snowing out, lightly, and the roads were starting to get bogged down. But I was still the first to arrive.
Brody was in the kitchen, basting the giant ham he was baking with pineapple rings and cloves stuck to it, and the house smelled amazing. I gave him a warm Christmasy hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Aren’t we in a festive mood,” he commented, and I just grinned.
Jessa was downstairs in the party room, where one long table had been set up and beautifully decorated with a red-and-green plaid tablecloth and matching place settings. There was a massive Christmas tree in the corner by the big windows and Christmas music was playing, and Jessa was fussing over her seating arrangement, baby Nick strapped to her front in his carrier thing.
I gave them both a kiss and asked where I could help.
“I’m stuck on the social politics,” she said, chewing at her bottom lip. “Like where to seat everyone. I had it worked out, but then with adding your mom in, I had to change some things around… We always split the couples up, to make it more mingly, and do a boy-girl-boy-girl arrangement, if possible. But I can’t seem to make it work.”
“What politics?”
“You know, Katie and Elle, Dylan and Amber and Ash…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Brody and Seth…”
“So? Just do the best you can,” I told her, as I glanced at the pretty little place cards she’d made and set out. “We’re all adults here—Oh sweet mother of fuck. For the love of all that’s good and holy on Christmas Eve, do not seat my mom next to Zane.”
“Why?” Jessa’s eyes went wide. “You think he’ll be rude?”
“Um, no. That’s not what I was thinking.” I plucked the place card with Cindy written on it from the table and handed it to her. “Have you met my mom?”
“I have.” She seemed to be getting the drift, and plucked a few place cards, rearranging things. “Okay. Let’s put your mom next to Jude.” She looked at me. “At least you can pre-warn him, and you can trust him, right?”
“Yeah. He’s been warned.”
“Okay. So she’ll go between Jude and Jesse. She already knows my brother decently well, so things will be less… unpredictable.”
“Yeah. Other than that time her swimsuit top ‘accidentally’ popped off in front of him at that barbecue.”
“That was, like, twenty million years ago.” She glanced at me and grinned. “Maybe she’s matured?”
“Maybe we should cancel this whole thing and I’ll just go home.”
“Moving on,” she said sharply. Jessa was really adapting to life as a mommy; already had a little more authority in her voice. It was impressive. “I’m putting Piper between you and Maggie. He knows you both well enough, I’m hoping he’ll behave.”
“What about Katie?” I suggested. Katie was practically Piper’s sister-in-law.
“I have her between Ash and Seth. Oh for Christ’s sake, do I need to move Katie and Zane farther apart…? Because that would put Amber next to Ash, which would be weird, because Dylan’s all the way over there…”
“Why can’t Katie and Zane be close?”
“Because he always flirts with her to piss Jesse off, and if my brother’s in a bad mood it’s really gonna ruin my Christmas.”
“Why would he be in a bad mood?”
“I don’t know. He’s all annoyed that one of the songs he wrote isn’t going on the album now because everyone likes one Zane wrote better…”
“Oh.”
“I don’t want to put Piper next to Amber. She’s new and I don’t want him to scare the shit out of her. So.” She rearranged a couple more place cards, putting me between Seth and Piper. “That’s good, right? You and Piper are cool?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course we’re cool.”
Really, I hadn’t seen Piper in years, so I had no idea how “cool” we were. Jessa, of course, knew about my entire obsession with him, years ago, and she also knew at some point I’d completely stopped obsessing about him.
I never told her that was because he’d fucked me and then blew me off.
She also knew I’d dated his friend for a long time, on and off. And was now screwing Jude.
So maybe she was right to worry.
“It’ll be fine,” I assured her. “We’ll all be on our best behavior. And if Zane starts any shit with Jesse, we’ll just, I don’t know, change the subject.”
She looked incredibly skeptical, but finally sighed and said, “Okay. I think that’s the best we can do.”
“Seriously, babe.” I put my hands on her shoulders and gave her a steady look. “Trust your friends and family to act like the adults they are. You can’t babysit everyone at once.”
“I give you that same advice right back, about your mom.”
“Fuck.” I sighed, and we took one last look over the table. “It’s perfect.”
Honestly, I had no idea if it was perfect. But last thing I needed to do was heap more drama on Jessa’s plate by refusing to sit next to Piper because I was worried Jude might be jealous or something. I didn’t want her stressing and rearranging the place settings ad infinitum. She was hosting this thing with a newborn hanging off her boob, for Christ’s sake.
“Let me help you with those,” I said, taking the stack of fancy snowflake-shaped napkins from her hand and laying them out on the plates like she’d been doing.
I knew most Dirty parties these days were at least somewhat catered, but not the Orphans’ Potluck. Everybody was responsible for showing up with something to contribute, food-wise, but obviously that still left a shit-ton of preparation for whoever was hosting.
“I just hope everything turns out well,” Jessa said with a little sigh as she stroked Nick’s head. “I literally had to tell Zane what to bring, lest he show up with a loaf of bread and a couple of hundred-dollar bills.”
“He’s done that?”
“He’s done that. The man is truly clueless in a kitchen. This year I just went ahead and put him in charge of cranberry sauce and gave him the names of a couple of good delis where he can get some. If he fucks that up, we can probably live without it.”
I grinned. “Yeah. But I do love cranberry sauce…”
Gradually, people started showing up, and the room filled around us as the scents of food permeated the house. Dean Martin was singing “Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!�
�� and the tree was all lit up with twinkly lights. It definitely felt like Christmas.
Especially when Jude arrived—and the whole room warmed right up. Or maybe it was just me. He popped his head into the party room and saw me having a drink with Katie, came right over and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He smelled like snow and fresh winter air and truck exhaust.
“Gotta fry up the turkey,” he said, gave Katie a kiss on the forehead, and disappeared outside where the guys were wrestling the deep fryer off Piper’s truck. They set it up on the back patio and gathered around it like a bunch of cavemen who’d just discovered fire, while the ladies congregated in the kitchen and party room, prepping the other food and making drinks.
Besides Jesse and Katie, Maggie, Dylan and Amber showed up pretty early. Zane came shortly after that, with a shitload of cranberry sauce and a big tray of Christmas cookies that Dolly had made. Seth and Elle arrived next, then Ash showed up, just when Dylan had started texting him to find out where the fuck he was. When he walked in, he was already drunk, but a few other guests were on their way there too, so no biggie.
It was the holidays after all.
I had one or two before dinner to take the edge off, but after that, I stuck with the non-alcoholic cider that Katie had made—likely, she’d made it in an effort to be thoughtful to Elle and Jessa, who were pregnant and breastfeeding, respectively, because that was just Katie’s way.
My mom showed up last, not too long before dinner, so at least there wasn’t much time for her to wander the room causing trouble before we’d all be corralled into our pre-assigned seats.
I heard Zane ask Brody who the fuck she was and why she was here, and when Jude cut in and said, “She’s Roni’s mom and I invited her,” Zane got a big-ass grin on his face and looked over at me.
Because obviously there was only one reason Jude would invite my mom to dinner. I figured this was as close as we were getting to Jude admitting he was screwing me.
I just smiled back and sipped my cider.
My mom had dressed, as usual, like a woman two decades younger than she was, a woman who was planning to have Christmas Eve dinner at a sleazy strip joint—you know, before hitting the stage to do her thing. Granted, Cindy Webber looked pretty damn good and a wee bit younger than her forty-nine years, but she also definitely looked—and behaved—overly available in a room full of men who were largely non-single.
Dirty Like Jude: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 5) Page 27