“Good, nothing’s cut. Just a few scrapes. They’ll be tender though.” He met my eyes once more. “God, Tate, I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah, it was.”
I suppose, in a way, he was responsible, but I didn’t see it that way. “She’s just jealous,” I replied. “It’s not a big deal.” I tried my best to play it off. I didn’t want him to see how much it affected me.
Jude put a guiding hand against my waist and we started towards his truck. He hadn’t changed into his scrubs yet. I wouldn’t tell him, but he was right, I loved the way he wore those scrubs.
He opened the passenger door for me and I climbed inside.
He was quiet as we pulled out into traffic, but then he said, “We have time to stop and eat.”
I shrugged. I didn’t feel hungry.
“If I recall correctly, I owe you a McFlurry,” he chuckled, reaching over to squeeze my knee. He was trying so hard to make me feel better.
“Only because I threw it at you.”
“Logistics,” he shrugged, pulling into the McDonald’s Drive-Thru line.
He ordered our food and parked the truck. I figured we were eating in the truck, but he hopped out, grabbing a blanket that he kept behind his seat.
I followed him to the back of the truck where he pulled down the tailgate. I saw what he was trying to do and took the blanket from him before he dropped our food. I folded it so it was thicker and then spread it out so we could both sit.
So far our April weather had been surprisingly warm. It was a nice change from cold, snowy, windy days.
Jude handed me the bag and I dished out our food. Two McFlurries sat between us. Hopefully there would be no more McFlurry throwing—although, that would make an interesting sport. I could see it on the Olympics now.
“This is nice,” Jude said around a mouthful of cheeseburger.
I nodded in agreement, dipping a fry in ketchup.
“Although,” he continued, “this does not count as our real date.”
“Huh?” I quirked a brow, eating another fry.
“You said I won the bet, which means we get to go on a date. This,” he pointed to the greasy fast food we ate, “is not a proper date.”
“It isn’t?” I asked. “What do you propose we do then?”
“Not sure yet,” he shrugged, his face growing serious, “I’ve got to think of something good.” He took a bite of his burger, staring out at the parking lot. “Are you free Saturday or Sunday?”
“I’m not doing anything.” Except staring at my computer trying to write this paper. I should’ve had it halfway done by now, and this week of shadowing should have been unnecessary, but I only had two paragraphs written and knowing me I’d delete them the next time I opened my word document.
“Perfect,” he grinned, bouncing with excitement like a little boy.
We finished eating, and moved on to the McFlurries.
“I have to say,” Jude started, “this tastes much better going into my mouth, than on my clothes. Do you have any idea how long it took me to lick those stains out of my scrubs?” He didn’t give me a chance to reply. “In fact, they didn’t come out at all. You, Tater Tot, owe me a new pair of scrubs. Should I tell you my size or do you have an idea? I mean, with as much as you stare at me you should know by—”
“Oh, shut up,” I laughed, tempted to flick ice cream in his hair just for the heck of it.
“Alright,” he smiled, “I’ll be quiet, but only because you have this look in your eyes that spells trouble.” He licked ice cream from his top lip. “You know, you kind of remind me of a kitten. You look all cute and innocent, but you have claws.”
I lightly scratched his arm. “And don’t forget it.”
“Ms. O’Connor did you just scratch me?” He pretended to be shocked. “It’s like you’re staking a claim to tell all others to back off.”
“Maybe I am,” I smiled innocently.
“That’s so hot.” He leaned closer and pressed his forehead against mine. “But you don’t need to stake a claim, baby. I’m yours.”
Why did those words fill me with such relief?
I leaned my head on his shoulder, sucking the last remnants of Oreo McFlurry from the spoon. No one had ever made me feel as content as Jude did. He made me feel calm but I wasn’t afraid to let my fiery side out. With him, I could just be…me.
Jude finished his McFlurry and took the empty cup from my hands. “We’ve got to go or we’ll be late. Go ahead and get in the truck, I’m going to change in the bathroom here.”
I nodded as we both hopped off the tailgate. I grabbed the blanket and folded it as he threw away the trash and grabbed his bag from the truck.
I got in the truck and kicked off my flats, drawing my feet up to rest on the dash.
It didn’t take Jude long to return. He tossed the bag behind his seat and we headed towards the nursing home.
By now everyone at the nursing home—workers and patients alike—were aware of who I was and didn’t wonder why I was there.
Jude grabbed the chart from the receptionist and we headed through the building.
“Hey, Mr. Jenkins,” Jude chimed, walking into the room. I’d been shadowing him long enough to know that Mr. Jenkins was his favorite patient, although Jude took the time to know bits and pieces about each of the people he worked with.
“Jude,” Mr. Jenkins grinned. “I was beginning to think you were never coming back.”
“And not tell you?” Jude tsk’d. “Never.”
Jude began checking over the man’s vitals and asking him questions pertaining to that. I leaned against the wall with my trusty notebook and pen in hand.
Mr. Jenkins eyes found me. “You his girlfriend yet?” Before I could reply, the man looked to Jude. “You need to make that girl yours.”
Jude chuckled, his dark hair brushing against his forehead. He looked to me, his eyes sparkling and something stirred in my stomach. “Don’t worry, Mr. Jenkins. She’s mine.”
“Good,” the man seemed to ease, “I better be invited to the wedding.”
Jude and I both laughed at that. Jude turned to me. “Is tomorrow too soon for a wedding?”
“Probably,” I shrugged. “And Vegas is a bit too far away.”
“Well darn,” he hung his head as if he was truly upset with this fact. “Looks like we’re not getting married anytime soon Mr. Jenkins,” Jude sighed. “I guess you better keep kicking so you can be there.”
“Don’t worry boy,” Mr. Jenkins stifled a cough, “if the war couldn’t take me, this cold ain’t either.”
Jude chuckled. “That’s the right mindset to have.” Turning to me, he said, “Mr. Jenkins fought in WWII.”
“You did?” I asked, my interest piquing. I’d always been a closet history dork, even attending the local Civil War reenactments once a year. History Channel was my best friend when I was home alone.
The man nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I was a fighter pilot.”
“That’s amazing,” I gasped. I completely forgot about Jude being there and sat down in one of the empty chairs. I proceeded to ask Mr. Jenkins any and all questions I could think of. I completely forgot about this being Jude’s job. I was far too interested in learning facts straight from the source.
Eventually though Jude had to pull me away.
“I hope I get to see you again,” I told Mr. Jenkins, waving from the doorway. Jude’s rotation was almost always different, but he tended to see each patient at least twice a week.
“You take care now, sweetheart,” Mr. Jenkins voice carried to me as the door closed.
Jude dragged me down the hall, opened a door, and pushed me inside. It was a storage closet. Lovely. He was probably pissed at me for taking so long to talk to Mr. Jenkins. Frankly I couldn’t blame him, but—
My thoughts were cut off when his mouth covered mine. My back bumped into one of the shelves, knocking cleaning supplies to the ground with a crash. Jud
e didn’t seem to mind, or to care about the attention it may draw.
He grasped my thighs, forcing my legs around his waist. “You’re so fucking hot,” he breathed between kisses.
“What’d I do?” I panted, my lips fighting to keep up with his.
“It’s just you,” he nipped my bottom lip, “you’re amazing.”
I was still lost as to what had prompted this kiss-a-thon but I decided not to think too much about it and enjoy myself instead.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking against mine, his hard length blatantly obvious, “I want you so bad. Only you. Only ever you.”
We panted and clawed at each other like wild animals. It was like we couldn’t get close enough.
I kissed him deeply, pushing forward and taking control. My fingers yanked at his hair and he growled low in his throat. God I loved that sound.
He let me go and my feet connected with the floor. Then I was pushing him back and this time his back hit one of the shelves.
I’d never been so out of control and uncontained before.
His hands came up to cup my cheeks and he slowed the kiss to more gentle levels. I still knew my lips would be tender and swollen later, but it was worth it and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Somehow my hands had found their way under his scrub shirt and his smooth skin was scorching against my palms.
I couldn’t find it in me to be embarrassed though.
I looked up at him, refusing to let any nervousness show. “I want you,” I gasped, still out of breath from our kiss. “All of you,” I added in case he didn’t catch my meaning.
He kissed me soundly and then took a step back so there was plenty of space between us. “Soon.” His tone made me squirm and the sparkle in his eyes promised delightful naughtiness.
We took a moment to straighten our clothes before he opened the closet door and poked his head out. “Coast is clear.”
He took my hand and helped me out of the closet—which was now a mess thanks to our escapade.
“You really need to tell me exactly what that was about,” I pried my hand from his. The last thing I wanted to do was get him in trouble here, but I guessed it was too late for that, what with making out in a closet.
He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “It was so hot how excited you got talking to Mr. Jenkins. How could I not get turned on by that?”
“You’re something else,” I muttered. “I’m pretty sure you get turned on by everything.” I stifled a laugh.
He chuckled, a grin turning up his lips. “I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation. Come on, this way,” he grabbed my arm, pulling me down another hallway. Gone was the fun and now it was time for him to work again.
He finished out his volunteer hours and we headed back to campus. I hated to leave him and return to my shitty home life. I really had to get out of there. I was so done with all of it.
“Hey,” he said before I got out of the truck.
“Yeah?” I perked up, hoping that maybe he’d decided to make a late night visit to his grandpa’s and wanted me to join.
“The guys and I are throwing a party this Friday…well it’s them, not me, that’s having the party,” he shrugged, “but they want me to be there. So I was hoping you’d consider coming.”
“You know parties really aren’t my thing.” My excitement from a minute ago faded.
“Come on, Tate,” he grinned, “I can’t fend off the she-beasts by myself.”
That was all he needed to say to change my mind. “I’ll be there.”
He laughed heartily. “I love it when you’re jealous. Your face gets all red and your nose crinkles.”
“How would you feel about guys flirting with me?” I countered. “I doubt you’d like it very much.”
His brows scrunched together and he glared out the window. “You’re right, I wouldn’t. I’d probably punch them in the face.”
I patted his shoulder. “There’s no need to go all caveman possessive on me now. You know I can handle myself.”
He chuckled at that, his face softening. “Yeah, you’re right. You can certainly take care of it on your own.”
“I’m glad you have faith in me.” Staring out the window at the dark sky and few stars, I let out a breath. “I better get home.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, leaning over to give me a quick kiss. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” I smiled, slipping out of the truck. Almost instantly I missed his presence.
I got in my car and gave him a quick wave before backing away and heading home, to the place that had become my prison.
My dad wasn’t there when I arrived. I was silently thankful for that.
I forced my mom to eat some dinner and helped her to bed. I once again found myself wanting to yell and scream at her to get her shit together, but I knew it would do no good. I’d long ago given up hope that she’d snap out of this.
After I’d gotten her in bed, I’d showered and worked on my paper for a while. I’d managed to get a good bit done and was quite happy with it. I’d changed the direction of it and I hoped Professor Taylor didn’t mind. Instead of focusing on the struggles of being a student in the medical field, I’d chosen to write about the relationships healthcare providers formed with their long-term patients and with each other. How everyone banded together and became a…well, family.
With this new direction I was positive this paper would be the best thing I’d ever written.
Now though, I was trying to go to sleep.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Something smacked against my window.
I sat up and looked around my room as if the answer to the mysterious noise resided there.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Eventually I forced my tired body out of bed and went to the window. I looked down and saw Jude standing in the yard. When he saw me, he grinned and pointed to himself and then the window. He wanted to come up.
I nodded and then pointed my finger down to let him know I’d come downstairs to let him inside.
By the time I opened the front door he already waited there.
“What are you doing here?” I gasped, still surprised to see him.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged. “I didn’t have my teddy bear, and by teddy bear I mean you of course.”
I smiled at that and let him inside. He looked around, but not like he was taking in the place.
“You know you don’t need to worry about my mom,” I sighed heavily, “and my dad isn’t home.”
I closed and locked the door.
He grinned. “So, I don’t have to worry about being shot by Papa Bear?”
“No,” I laughed. “Come on,” I nodded towards the stairs. “I’m sleepy.”
He followed behind me and into my room. I closed and locked the door behind us just in case my dad did come home and decided to check on me. The chances were slim but I still wanted to be prepared.
I turned to find Jude grinning at me and then nodding at the closed door.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not for that. I wanted to be prepared in case my dad comes home.”
His shoulders sagged. “Bummer. Things were just getting exciting in my head.”
“I’m sure they were,” I laughed, climbing in bed once more.
Jude kicked off his shoes and removed his jeans. He hooked his thumbs into the back of his shirt and took that off as well so he was left only in his boxers. My heart sped up at the sight.
He climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me, cuddling me like, well…like a teddy bear.
I closed my eyes, wiggling around to get comfortable.
“Woman, if you keep doing that we’re going to have a problem on our hands,” he tickled my side.
I laughed as his fingers rubbed a ticklish spot. “Stop tickling me.”
“You know,” his fingers skated up my sleep shirt, “
I really love the fact that you only sleep in a shirt and panties. It’s fucking hot.”
“Jude,” I groaned, fighting a smile, “go to sleep.”
He ignored my words.
“This isn’t how I pictured your room,” he stated.
I opened my eyes, taking in the pink walls and girly décor. I hadn’t redecorated it since I was fourteen.
“What did you picture then?”
“Hmm,” he thought, “a torture chamber with chains and whips.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh. “A torture chamber? Really, Jude?” I rolled over to face him, cradling my hands under my head.
He shrugged. “You did kick me in the balls once and you slapped me when we kissed. Then there was the time—” I cut off anything further that he might say by putting my hand over his mouth. He retaliated by licking my hand.
“Ew,” I wiped my hand on the sheets, “you’re like a dog.”
“Doggie style is one of my favorite positions,” he stated flatly.
I rolled my eyes. “Go to sleep. I’m tired and now you’re keeping me awake.”
He chuckled. “Aw, don’t get sassy on me now, Tater Tot. You know you love my wickedly inappropriate sense of humor. It keeps life interesting,” he winked.
He was right about that.
I snuggled against him instead of replying. He smoothed his fingers through my hair and hummed a song under his breath. It sounded faintly like a lullaby. In no time I was asleep.
When I woke up I was more rested than I had been in days.
Jude was gone and in his place was a note.
Heard your dad come in last night. I wish I could’ve seen your beautiful face when you woke up.
-Jude
P.S. Look on the nightstand
Immediately I rolled over and started grinning like a fool. Sitting in a vase was not a single Twizzler like last time. Instead it was a whole ‘bouquet’ of them, and they were even tied together to look like flowers. Only Jude.
The gesture warmed my heart and I knew nothing would dampen my good mood today.
Chapter Twenty One
The week passed quicker than I would’ve liked and I started crying when we drove away from the nursing home.
Jude squirmed in his seat. “Uh…Tate…are you okay?”
Saving Tatum (Trace + Olivia #4) Page 20