Because he still mattered to her.
Her heart squeezed.
His reappearance in her life was testing the very limits of her self-control. See, the thing about Jude Campbell was he could rekindle something without even realizing what he’d done and walk away. He’d done it before. He’d left her holding her broken heart in her hands.
And here she was ten years later, still not completely over it.
She’d gotten really good at not thinking about him when he wasn’t there. Out of sight, out of mind. And then on the rare occasion when the specter of him had decided to drop in and haunt her, she was great at lying to herself about it—convincing herself that the pain was anger and he wasn’t worth her anger because she had moved on.
But she hadn’t really.
She’d given up love for a business she cared about only marginally more than the men she’d driven away. Here she was. Twenty-eight years old. Discontent. Disillusioned. Desperately trying not to let herself feel all the feelings that were breaking through now that he was back in town.
Someone rapped on her car window, startling her, making her jump. She blinked back an angry tear that had been threatening to break free and go rogue before she turned to see who it was.
It was Jude. Of course it was Jude.
He made a cranking motion with his hand. She rolled down the window.
“What is this?” She imitated the cranking motion he’d made.
“It means roll down your window, which you did.”
“My windows are electric. They don’t—” She repeated the cranking motion. Jude reached in and took her hand. He held it for a moment; neither of them said a word. The only sounds were of other people’s muted conversation, car doors slamming, engines starting, tires crunching on the gravel drive.
Jude shifted his hand so that his fingers laced hers.
“Jude, I can’t do this.”
He didn’t let go.
“Can we talk about it?” he asked. “If we can just sit down and talk and you still don’t want to see me, then I’ll stay away.”
She pulled her hand away, reclaiming her space so she could think clearly. “We’ve already talked, Jude. And look where that led us.”
“Was it so bad?” he said. “It reminded me of how much I’ve missed you.”
No, it wasn’t bad. It was great.
“But you’re only here for a few days—”
“Two weeks.”
“Okay, two weeks. And then what, Jude? I can’t just turn feeling on and off like you seem to be able to do.”
“Who says I have an on-off switch?”
“But you’re leaving. I’m not up for having a fling. Not with you, anyway. There’s just too much history here.”
He held up his hands, shook his head.
“We need to talk about this,” he said. “I don’t like to think of what happened yesterday—of kissing you—as a mistake, but if I’d known it would cause you any pain, I wouldn’t have done it. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Jules.”
Being with him again made her feel like a compass and he was north. Since they’d been apart, she’d been traveling all kinds of twists and turns and bends in life’s road trying to get herself back on the right path, but here was life, pointing her back to him.
What was she supposed to do when her true north disappeared again?
Yesterday wasn’t his fault. She should’ve been in control. She should’ve never gone to the cabin with him because she’d known it would make her too vulnerable. She just hadn’t thought past the moment to the aftermath of feelings. What had happened between them yesterday was proof that she couldn’t trust herself with him. Admitting it to herself made her feel weak, but if she didn’t face it now, she’d be up for a heap of heartache after he left.
“Let’s start over,” Jude said. “Let’s back up and go out to dinner and get to know each other again without rushing into anything.”
She shook her head.
“Think about it,” he said. “Tomorrow night at seven o’clock I’ll be at Café St. Germaine. If you want to talk—and only talk, just as friends—meet me there. You drive your car. I’ll drive my car. No strings attached. We go home separately. Even if you beg me, I won’t go home with you. Not even if you get me drunk and promise to take advantage of me.”
She smiled, even against her will.
“If you don’t show up, I promise I’ll leave you alone.”
Chapter Five
The next evening, Jude got to Café St. Germaine ten minutes early. The hostess seated him right away. He hadn’t been this nervous since his last ride in the world championship. But tonight seemed more unpredictable than the fiercest bucking bull.
He rarely gave much thought to what he wore, but today he’d changed clothes three times. The first try, blue jeans and a plaid button-down, was too casual. A suit and tie that he’d tried on in a Dallas department store was too formal. He’d struck a happy medium with a pair of khakis and a new white polo shirt. He’d even gotten a haircut for the occasion.
He’d needed one. His hair was too long and he justified the khakis because obviously he didn’t have anything that could pass for upscale casual, as the guy in the men’s department had called it. Until today, upscale casual hadn’t even been part of his vocabulary.
He felt naked without his hat, but even he knew it had no place tonight. His boots did, though. They kept him grounded. He’d cleaned them up and had given them a quick coat of polish. Now here he sat at Café St. Germaine, as antsy as he’d been when he’d wait for the chute to open and a particularly important ride to begin.
The analogy applied here. Waiting here for Juliette, it could be the beginning of a good ride. Or if she decided not to show he would have to pick himself up and deal with the pain and disappointment. But at least he would know where they stood. This was the first step toward seeing if there was still anything between them.
Or if he should move on.
Moving on sounded good in theory, but time had proven, with Juliette, it was easier said than done.
But it was time. It was part of his next step, but first he had to figure out what his next step would be. Which direction would this go?
He glanced at the time on his phone. Six fifty-nine. He picked up his water glass, which the server had already refilled once, and took a long sip. He had decided to wait for her to order a drink. If she didn’t show, it would be a lot easier to move into the bar without a tab.
The restaurant was doing a brisk business. It wasn’t overly crowded but enough people were coming and going that every time the door opened and someone who wasn’t Juliette walked in his heart sank a little lower. He could always occupy himself by checking email on his phone, but there was bound to be something from his agent pushing for an answer on whether he was going to commit to next season, or from Afton with thinly veiled questions that were supposed to look like business, but edged into the margins of too personal since she was just a friend and would never be anything more. He didn’t want to have any of that on his mind. Tonight, he wanted to focus on Juliette.
Then, as if he’d conjured her, the door opened and she walked in. She said something to the hostess, who pointed her in the direction of the corner table he’d asked for because it seemed relatively private, not too close to the other diners. That way, no matter what they ended up talking about, they wouldn’t feel as if they were being overheard.
He watched her as she walked toward him looking effortlessly sexy in the blue dress and heels she was wearing. Her long, dark hair hung loose around her shoulders. She could’ve come directly from a business meeting or she might have chosen that outfit for him. It didn’t matter. She was here. And she was smiling at him as she approached.
He stood up, fueled by the nervousness he thou
ght would go away as soon as she arrived. But it was still sticking around like an interloper.
“You made it.”
Even though tonight was supposed to be about friendship, about no strings attached, it was perfectly natural to enfold her in a hug and kiss her on the cheek. She hugged him back, which was a good sign, but he wasn’t going to read anything into it.
“Of course. I had to come,” she said. “If I hadn’t, when were we going to plan our strategy to convince Ethan to make that five-hundred-dollar donation, even though we’re not performing?”
“I am so glad you didn’t want to do that duet,” Jude said as he pulled out her chair and helped her scoot closer to the table. And just like that, they fell into the same ease and comfort that had always defined them.
“I couldn’t sing back then and I know I haven’t gotten any better,” he said. “Only this time people would know what to expect so they’d probably come armed with rotten tomatoes. It was bound not to end well, no matter what happened. Bad singing. Rotten tomatoes. Both?”
She threw her head back and laughed. The sound pierced him all the way through to his soul. It would have seemed so natural to reach out and take her hand. Instead, he fisted his into the tablecloth that was bunched up around his knees.
“What’s going on with the property sale?” she asked. “Have you talked to Ethan about it yet?”
He shook his head. “You heard him last night. We haven’t even had a chance to see each other.”
Juliette nudged his arm. “Then what are you doing here with me tonight? You should be with your brother. You two have a lot to talk about.”
“Don’t worry. I have my priorities straight.”
Her expression was a question mark.
Juliette glanced down at her hands. Then she brushed invisible crumbs off the tablecloth.
The server came and went over the specials. Jude ordered a glass of chardonnay for Juliette and a beer for himself. After he left, they quietly perused the menus.
“I’m not selling to MAG Holdings,” he said. “My brother won’t be happy when he finds out I want to list the property, but selling it to a developer would have spelled family feud for sure.”
“So, you’re still planning on selling the place?” she said as she closed her menu and set it to the side.
Jude shrugged. “I don’t know yet. But what I do know is that all we’ve done since I’ve been home is talk about me. Why do you keep deflecting when I ask about you?”
Juliette shrugged. “I don’t like to talk about myself.”
Jude laughed. “Yet you expect me to spill it all. I seem to remember someone saying, ‘Tell me everything.’”
“And I don’t think you finished, did you?” she said.
“It’s your turn now,” he said. “So, tell me everything.”
“Everything?” she asked. “I seem to remember someone saying everything was a tall order.”
They laughed at the way the conversation tables had turned. The server returned with their drinks and took their orders. He ordered the filet, medium rare. She ordered the salmon.
“Everything,” Jude reminded. “I want to know about you.”
“You know me, Jude. I’m the same person. What you see is what you get.”
He loved what he saw.
“What have you been doing all these years?”
“Where do I even start?”
“Start at the beginning. I guess you can skip over the part about all the Euro princes you met in college.”
“There were no Euro princes.”
“Chelsea didn’t try to fix you up with the guys in her circle?”
His sister-in-law, Chelsea, had relocated to Celebration, Texas, from London. She was some kind of British noblewoman, though Jude didn’t know exactly what kind. She’d been Juliette’s college roommate. She’d met his brother, Ethan, when she’d come to visit Juliette in Texas. She’d been running from a scandal—though Jude never figured out what all the hubbub had been about. Aside from her accent—and the fact that her brother was the United Kingdom’s new prime minister—people would never guess she came from such a highbrow background.
“Never mind, I don’t want to know about the guys. But I am curious, after all the time you spent in Europe, how did you end up back in Celebration?”
“Don’t be dissing your hometown, Campbell. Celebration is a pretty cool spot. A lot of people have gone away and chosen to come back.”
“Who says I’m dissing it? I’m back, aren’t I?”
“Are you back?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know how long I’ll stay, but I’m here now.”
Something sensual passed between them. The feeling knocked him for a loop and had him scrambling to get back on neutral ground so that he could keep his promise that tonight they would talk—and only talk—just as friends.
“It sounds like your business is booming,” he said. “How did you get into the wedding planning business?”
Her eyes widened. “I thought you hadn’t kept tabs on me.”
He shrugged. “Lucy kept me informed. You know she always wanted us to end up together. So, she has gone out of her way to keep me up on all things Juliette.”
Juliette grimaced. “Lucy hasn’t been quite so forthcoming with me about info pertaining to you.”
“What can I say? She’s my sister. She’s loyal.”
“Then again,” Juliette said. “Lucy hasn’t been back in Celebration very long. She’s been busy with Zane and establishing her own business.”
His sister was another one who had gone away only to find herself drawn back to her hometown after searching for herself elsewhere.
“If you already know everything, why do I need to tell you?” Juliette asked.
Jude reached out and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “Because I’m sure Lucy didn’t tell me everything, and I want to know everything. Everything.”
The look on her face was so vulnerable it made his heart squeeze. That’s when the server chose to deliver the food, spoiling the moment. Or maybe saving them. It was hard to tell.
Once they had settled in again, he said, “You were getting ready to tell me, how was it that you ended up back in Celebration?”
She chewed her food for a moment and then swallowed. “I hadn’t intended to stay. I came home for Mom’s wedding. Her fifth wedding.”
She pursed her lips and gave Jude a knowing look.
“No, actually, this guy, Howard, that’s husband number five’s name, he’s good for her. I think of all her relationships besides her marriage to my dad, this one might stick.”
Jude nodded. “Good for Guinevere. What happened to husbands two, three and four?”
“Yeah, that will take a while.”
“I’m all yours.”
“Okay, you asked for it.” She set down her knife and fork, picked up her wine, and took a fortifying sip. “Number two’s name was Jerry.” Juliette grimaced. “Good ol’ Jerry turned out not to be such a good guy after all. He wore her down until she agreed to sell her business.”
She regaled him with the story.
Jude’s jaw dropped. “Thinking about Guinevere without the Little Shop of Hoarders is just weird. That place was her pride and joy.”
“Yes. But Jerry didn’t want his wife to work. I guess he saw it as some sort of status symbol to have a wife who solely catered to him. The shop and all of those overseas antique-buying trips took up a lot of her time and attention, took it away from him. He didn’t like to travel. So she would go alone. Then, probably six months after she sold the shop, she discovered Jerry was having an affair with his administrative assistant. I guess he didn’t think things through very well. Every time Mom would go out of town on a buying trip, he would hook up with his mistre
ss. But after she sold the shop, there were no more buying trips. He was pretty cocky to think he could continue his business as usual after he had Mom at his beck and call. Obviously, he didn’t know Guinevere very well. She’s like a bloodhound—with all due respect to my mother. Once she gets a scent of something that doesn’t smell right, she won’t stop until she roots it out. It didn’t take long for her to realize something was up with Jerry and his bimbo, as she called her.”
Jude frowned. “What a bastard.”
“Oh, wait, it gets better with number three—or maybe I should say it’s worse, depending on how you look at it. But first, you’ll never guess what number three’s name was. Take a guess.”
He gave her the side-eye. “I have no idea. What?”
“Lance. Guinevere thought she’d finally found her Lancelot.”
“Get out.” He laughed. “What happened to Lancelot?”
“Lancelot—er, Lance—was about fifteen years younger than Guinevere.”
Jude’s eyebrows shot up. “Go, Guinevere.”
Juliette shook her head. “Lance was no knight in shining armor. He ended up stealing all the money she’d gotten when she sold Little Shop of Hoarders. I mean, at least Jerry had the decency to let her keep the proceeds from the sale. This guy stole from her.”
She went on to detail how husband number four ended up being a control freak. “She had to threaten him with a restraining order, but finally he got the picture and granted her a divorce. That marriage was so messy I was tempted to think of her marriage to Howard as a rebound. You know, someone to make her feel safe and adored. Because Howard absolutely adores her. But I think the fifth time is the charm. I hope, anyway. The sad thing is, until Howard, it seemed like she had to give up so much of herself for love.”
“That’s a shame,” Jude said. “But not with Howard, right? I mean, when love is right you shouldn’t feel like you’re giving up anything.”
Juliette shrugged and changed the subject to her business.
She answered some questions about it. The most extravagant wedding she’d planned: the budget was a quarter of a million dollars; an intimate affair for five hundred people; the bride’s dress cost fifty thousand dollars; they hired an entire symphony orchestra to perform during the reception.
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