Strangely Normal

by Oliver, Tess

  “I’m honored,” Jude said wiping his mouth with a napkin.

  Mom stood and lowered her hand for me to take. “I’m just glad we don’t have to eat any more burgers. My heart valves were closing up just smelling the grease.”

  I walked to the kitchen. “So, Dad, do I get a burger or does my opinion not count? I mean I know I’m not a King, but I’ve had my share of burgers.”

  “Coming right up.”

  “Oh, but Dad, I don’t want any onions or bacon or mayonnaise.”

  Dad rolled his eyes at me. “Yeah, Edie, you’re a regular burger connoisseur.”

  Chapter 18

  We spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon talking mostly about Jude’s dad and listening to Black Thunder music just in case Jude hadn’t heard it enough in his lifetime. At one point, Sophie and Janie climbed up on each side of Jude and fell asleep against him. It was a picture I would keep in my mind forever. Good byes took a long time, and Mom, Janie, Sophie, and I cried. They promised to call the moment they got up north to give me their new number.

  We stepped out on the balcony and there, standing on the street looking as out of place as a polar bear in the middle of the desert, was a sleek, white limo.

  I raised an eyebrow at Jude. “Why, look at that, my neighbors, the Petersons, must have bought a limo to go with their chauffeur.”

  “The bus experience was special and all, but now if I decide to kiss you, we won’t have to hide under my coat.”

  “Uh, after that burger with onions, that wasn’t going happen anyhow.”

  He pulled a pack of gum out of his pocket. “I’m prepared for anything, especially kissing.”

  “Whooee!” Dad crowed from above. Apparently he’d taken up cowboy exclamations in my absence.

  The whole family stared down from the balcony as we slid into the back seat. Tears filled my eyes again as I watched them through the tinted windows.

  Janie and Sophie jumped up and down and waved their naked dolls in the air as we pulled away from the apartment. Jude put his arm around me. “I’m just going to say it. Your family is so fucking cool.”

  I wiped at my tears with the back of my hand. “I know.” I snuggled against him. “My dad will probably not be able to sleep tonight or the rest of the week for that matter.”

  “We’ve got to introduce him to my dad.”

  “Then he could die a happy man. Jude, thanks for not noticing how crappy I live.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “It just makes you that much more amazing.”

  While there couldn’t have been a more comfortable, cozy, and prestigious make-out place than the back of the limo, I felt uncomfortable with a driver sitting just a few feet away. Jude worked hard to hide his disappointment. He tried desperately to convince me that the tinted window between the driver and the passengers was opaque and sound proof. I pointed out that once he raised the partition, the driver would know exactly what we were doing and that would be even worse. I won the round, and Jude accepted defeat like a gentleman, a completely crestfallen gentleman.

  The combination of getting out of bed extra early and the monotonous stop and go freeway traffic had made me drowsy enough to fall asleep with my head on Jude’s lap. “Hey, Valley, we’re at my bike. I told Ben to bring you a helmet.” He brushed the hair off my forehead, and I sat up a bit stunned that I’d fallen so deeply asleep. “Unless you’d rather stay in the car and let him take you home.”

  I dropped my feet to the floor and stretched. “Where’s the helmet?”

  He smiled at my enthusiasm and reached behind the seat for it. The limo had attracted the attention of every person on the street, and I heard a few people mumbling behind their hands trying to decide who we were. They looked equally curious as we climbed onto the back of the motorcycle.

  The cool air snapped the grogginess from my head, and I held tightly to Jude as we drove through town to the estate. We passed the house and came to a second driveway a good block away from the security gates. He parked the bike under a tree.

  I glanced back up the way we came. “Uh, I think you missed a turn back there.”

  “Nope.” He removed his helmet and helped me with mine and then tossed both of them over the tall brick wall surrounding the yard. He crouched down and lowered his hands to give me a boost. “Just grab the top of the wall and hoist yourself up. I’ll help you get down the other side.”

  “And exactly why are we breaking in to your house?” I put my foot in his hand, and he lifted me high enough to get a good hold on the top of the wall. I hoisted myself up and nearly fell over the other side.

  He climbed up beside me. “Because, I’m not ready to share you with my dysfunctional family yet.” We sat on the top of the wall with a complete view of the yard and tennis courts. There was no one, not even a giant dog, in sight.

  Jude stared at me with that lingering gaze that always sent a swirl of heat through me. “I’m going to paint you, Eden. Even if I don’t paint another damn thing, I’ve got to put you on canvas.” He jumped down and raised his arms to me. I fell forward into his strong hands, and he lowered me to the ground, making sure to drag my body slowly against his on my descent. He picked up the helmets and then grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the pool house.

  I looked fleetingly back at the wall we’d just climbed. “So just how often have you climbed that wall? You seem quite skilled at it.”

  “Probably a few more times than through the security gates. That wall is my invisibility cloak. It allows me to enter the grounds unseen.”

  “But what if your dad is using the pool house?” I stumbled along to keep pace with his speed.

  “He never steps outside in the daylight.”

  “Really?”

  “Rock stars and vampires have a lot in common.”

  “If no one’s around, why are we running?”

  My question didn’t slow his pace. “I don’t want Butch and Sundance to get wind of me. Then everyone will know I’m back.”

  The speedy jaunt across the immense yard increased my heart rate as if we were running a track. “Yes, I was going to mention what terrific guard dogs they were, what with us climbing the wall and all.”

  “The place is just too big. We’d need a whole pack of dogs to keep this place secure.”

  I was nearly breathless by the time we reached the pool house. Jude wasted no time getting us inside and out of view. He locked the door behind us.

  I put my hand on my chest to slow down my heart. “If you had a real invisibility cloak, we wouldn’t have had to run. We could have just casually strolled across the lawn unnoticed.”

  “I guess that’s what we needed in the back of the limo.”

  “You’re not going to forgive me for that, are you?”

  “Nope. I don’t forgive easily when a perfectly good make-out opportunity is squandered.” He walked over and started arranging his pencils on the tray.

  The day I’d raced out of the pool house, insulted and hurt, I’d never actually looked at the drawing he’d started. Now I looked over his shoulder at the canvas..

  My light brown eyes looked back at me. “Oh my god, that’s me,” my words floated out on an awed whisper. “It’s like looking in a mirror.” My neck and shoulders had been sketched in lightly, but even in the faint strokes of pencil, I could see the outline of my body. “Are my boobs really that big?”

  “Yes, my tastily curved angel, they are.” He got up from the stool. “I’ll get the shirt, and you can change.”

  I followed him to the hallway lined with clothing racks. “Are you sure I shouldn’t put on one of these nice, lacy dresses?” I ran my finger tips across the line of clothes.

  “I’m sure.” I was just closing the door behind me when he issued another command. “And, Valley, this time, lose the jeans too.”

 
I froze and then turned and stuck my head back out. “What?”

  The expression he shot me left no room for debate. “I’m the artist, remember?”

  It was still more fabric than the bathing suit, and yet, I felt extremely exposed as I stepped out into the hallway. I yanked down on the men’s undershirt to cover my panties, but that only served to expose my breasts.

  Jude glanced up from the wet bar, and for a second, it looked as if the breath had been knocked from him. He threw back a shot and then held up the glass. “A little fortification.” He slammed the glass down on the counter and seemed to avoid looking directly at me as he brushed past and took my hand. He led me to the stool and patted the top of it.

  His calloused fingers pushed gently on my shoulders until he got me into the same position as before. He pushed my chin up so my face was lifted properly. Like a true artist, he stayed focused on my positioning. I was his object, his model, and nothing else, but it seemed to take all his strength to concentrate. It seemed one wrong move and the heated tension that was coming off of him in waves would splinter in every direction.

  His rough fingers took hold of my bare knees, and now it was my turn to stay focused. Holding my upper torso and head steady as his hands drifted over my bare thighs, spreading them slightly apart, was nearly impossible. I sucked in a breath. It could not be helped. His hands slid down to my ankles, and he placed my feet in the same position on the rungs of the stool. His long lashes guarded his eyes, and he did not look at my face once. His fingers tugged on the hem of the shirt, and still without looking up at me, he took my hand and placed it on the fabric to hold down.

  Then he leaned forward and whispered in to my ear. “Breathe, Eden.”

  I nearly slipped out of position as I released the breath I’d been holding. Through the back of his t-shirt, the muscles in his shoulders and back looked solid and tight as he walked over to the music controls. He turned it on but lowered the volume. Then he walked back to his stool and sat down. He hadn’t lifted his face to look at me yet. As he stared down at his tray of pencils, he seemed to be steadying himself to look up, and when he finally did, I heard the same release of breath as I’d had moments before. He picked up the pencil and a serious, hard as steel gaze crossed his face as he dragged the lead across the canvas.

  Cool air brushed the bare skin of my thighs and shoulders, but every time Jude looked at me, searing heat unfurled inside of me as if his gaze stroked me physically. I could feel him looking at me, memorizing every curve of my body before transferring it through his fingers onto canvas.

  Several times he stopped from loss of concentration. He would put down his pencil and scrub his face with his hands as if trying to snap himself out of whatever had taken hold of him and then he would pick up the pencil and continue.

  “Do you need a break?” They were the first words he’d spoken, and his voice sounded somewhat strained.

  “I think I’m all right.” My words sounded even rawer than his.

  He dropped the pencils onto the tray. “I need one. And I have to mix some paints, so you can take a rest.” There was a cold distance in his tone, almost as if we were strangers. I was the model he’d hired to paint, and he was strictly a professional. Unfortunately, I had not managed to push myself out of reality, and all I could think of was having Jude take me in his arms.

  I walked over to the couch, sat down, and picked up a magazine, pretending that I was in the mood to peruse articles.

  Jude went to his work table and sorted through paint colors and brushes. I watched every move of his shoulders, arms, and back over the top of the magazine. The urge to have him touch me increased with every movement of muscle. I glanced over to the wet bar. The bottle and shot glass were still out. I needed a drink too.

  I strolled over and poured myself a shot. He looked back at me over his shoulder, and I lifted the glass. “Fortification, indeed.” I threw it back, swallowed, and scrunched my face in pain. “Oh god, that’s awful. It’s like drinking a glass of turpentine.”

  “That is a hundred dollar bottle of scotch.”

  I filled the glass with water. “All right, it’s like drinking really expensive turpentine.”

  He returned to his task with a smile.

  The burning in my throat had temporarily relieved the burning I’d felt everywhere else until Jude called me back to the stool. This time the repositioning took longer, and his fingers seemed reluctant to leave my skin. The sweet torture of his touch, light as it was, made balancing on a stool a circus act. Twice, I had to grab his shoulders to keep from sliding off and that appeared to break down Jude’s resolve too. For a long, tense moment in time neither of us took a breath. As his hands pushed open my thighs, a soft groan escaped my lips. Jude’s Adam apple slid up and down with the sound of it. His determination was fading quickly. Instead of lifting his hands from my thighs to move down to my ankles, he let his fingers trail down the skin of my calves and though he’d positioned my shoulders already, I had no choice but to grab hold of the seat edge to keep from falling.

  “Oops,” I squeaked.

  And then, without warning, he took hold of my calf and pressed my leg to his mouth, kissing my bare skin. His mouth moved slowly up the inside of my leg, and I clutched his shoulders for support as he stopped at the soft skin on my inner thigh. My fingers tightened on his shirt and my eyes drifted shut.

  “Jude,” I whispered hoarsely. It was the only syllable I could utter, but the urgency of it was all the pleading he needed.

  He straightened and I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. His mouth came down roughly over mine as he carried me to the couch. He lowered me to the cushions, and his calloused fingertips pushed the undershirt up above my breasts. “You are so fucking amazing, Eden.” His mouth covered my breast, and I arched my back to push harder against him. Every inch of my skin felt heated and flushed, and I knew that this time there no way I could stop myself. I wanted this as much as him.

  I took hold of his face and urged him to kiss my mouth. My hands slipped under his shirt and my fingers and palms smoothed over his back, his muscles tightening beneath my touch.

  Then his hands slid down my waist, and his fingers pushed my panties down to my thighs. Our breathing had synchronized into short, frantic spurts. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth from mine. His lids were heavy with need as he gazed down at me. “Are you sure, Eden?”

  “Yes.”

  He reached back to his pocket, fished out his wallet, and pulled out a condom.

  “Convenient,” I mused.

  He smiled as he stood. “I’ve had it in there for years.”

  “Right.”

  He pulled his shirt off over his head and I a faint whimper rose from my throat. He stared down at me unabashedly and swallowed hard. Then he rolled off his jeans, and this time the whimper was more of a gasp. He lowered himself over me and kissed my mouth lightly. “Now, where were we, my incredibly beautiful garden of Eden?”

  Chapter 19

  Nicky King has left the building. That phrase kept bouncing through my head the day after Finley’s father left for the rest of his tour. His leaving reminded me of the updraft that followed a jet as it took off. It was as if a giant vacuum had sucked up the energy and frenzy that came with his arrival, and now the house was relatively quiet. Jude and Cole had gone to work on separate construction sites, and the staff was busy putting the house back in order. The sharp difference in the house’s atmosphere reminded me a lot of Finley’s abrupt mood swings. And frankly, after a few days with her father in the house, it was not hard to see why she had so many problems. My nerves had been on edge the whole time, and had it not been for Jude, I would have stayed hidden in my room for the duration of Nicky King’s stay.

  Now that he was gone, Finley’s full attention was on me again. Her mood had been bright and energetic for the last few days. I found her dow
nstairs in the kitchen standing behind a wall of baking supplies. “It’s cookie baking day. Max is coming tonight after Cole gets home from work. Cole has invited this girl, Teresa, he hangs with sometimes. She’s kind of sleazy, which, of course, is why Cole likes her. She lives in Westwood with her father. He has some connection with the porn industry, but I don’t ask too many questions. I thought we could have a cookie slash movie party. I’m sure Jude wants to hang with you. It’ll be like triple date.”

  Jude and I hadn’t had much time to be alone, the one pitfall that came with his dad’s absence. But he still managed to yank me into dark corners and empty hallways for stolen kisses. And I’d grown remarkably fond of those secret kisses. Finley knew well enough that Jude and I had become closely attached, but she had no idea of the scope of our relationship. I planned to keep it that way. It just seemed less complicated.

  “Cookies and a movie sounds fun. What should I do?”

  “First, help me decide,” she lifted three bags up, “chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, or toffee bits?”

  I contemplated the choices but the decision was obvious. “I suggest that you use all three.”

  She pointed at me and winked. “I like your way of thinking, my friend.”

  It had felt as if we’d separated and grown apart some with her dad’s arrival. She was completely nuts about the man, and just like Jude had warned me, she’d only had time for her dad while he was home. Now everything had returned to normal, and we were completely in sync with each other.

  Finley pulled out a mixing bowl. I measured the sugar as she softened the butter. She whipped the two ingredients together and stared into the bowl. “Are there two finer ingredients than butter and sugar?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Grab me two eggs from the fridge while I search for the vanilla.” She opened and shut several cupboards. “So, you never told me, how was the visit to your parent’s house?”