Take Me (Take Me Series Book 1)

by Calista Fox

  Jude gave a nonchalant shrug. “Most of the time.”

  “Jude,” she snapped.

  “Kate,” he groaned. “You’ve seen my house and now you’re freaking out. I don’t need your psych degree to comprehend that. But goddamn it, I didn’t just ask you to close up shop and become a lawyer’s wife. Pop out three kids and—”

  “Three!” Her hands flew into the air. “What is it with that number?!”

  “Well, it’s a sensible configuration,” he reasonably said, having no clue as to her consternation. “What if we had two boys right off the bat and then realized…hey, a girl would really create balance in the household?”

  Kate’s heart nearly stopped. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  Oh. Shit.

  He was deathly serious about this.

  And she was…?

  She was…?

  What?

  Kate’s mind whirled. The room started spinning again.

  “Christ, Kate. You’re pale.”

  “I am absurdly confused,” she whispered.

  “Welcome to my fucking world.”

  “No, Jude, you don’t understand.” Staring up at him, she said, “I’m supposed to be an anchor. The grounded one, who grounds others.”

  “You are an anchor, Kate. Fuck! That is exactly the word I would use to describe you. Every time I’m spiraling, all I have to do is look at you, or hear your voice, and it levels me out. Hell, sometimes all I have to do is think of you, Kate. And I’m no longer off-kilter.”

  “I’m off-kilter, Jude. The anchor can’t be off-kilter!”

  “Oh, babe…” He smirked in his wickedly sexy way. “You have to get off-kilter every now and then—with me. When you’re with me. If you’re not off-kilter…I’m not nearly as potent as you claim I am.”

  Kate melted. Right into him.

  “The thing is,” she finally confessed, “we’re riding a train that’s about to derail.” She covered her face with her hands. Shook her head. Dropped her arms. “Enough with the metaphors, Kate,” she quietly chastised.

  And took a moment to find her center.

  Gazing into Jude’s eyes again, she told him, “The plain and simple truth is…” She clasped his biceps. Then leapt off her own ledge, saying, “I’m going to Afghanistan.”

  “You’re going where?”

  Jude’s brows jumped. Then his gaze narrowed on her. Then the brows hitched again.

  “Did you just say…Afghanistan?”

  He glared at her. Full-on glared.

  “You heard correctly,” Kate told him. “Part of the grand plan. The mission. All those portfolios on my coffee table… Mass quantities of paperwork to read and sign. And lots of training to—”

  “Afghanistan?” he repeated, his tone as strident as his expression.

  Kate swallowed hard, knowing precisely the connotation associated with that one word. “Yes.”

  “The fucking country?”

  “The fucking country, Jude.”

  He stepped away from her.

  Did a little pacing himself. Then confronted her.

  “What the hell are you thinking, Kate? Are you out of your mind?”

  “Not at all,” she said, thanking her lucky stars her tone was fairly regulated. Because her pulse was through the roof. “Just listen for a second, okay?”

  “Listen?” he growled. “To what, Kate? To you trying to rationalize that going to Afghanistan is a good idea?”

  “It’s a fabulous idea, actually,” she assured him, now a bit indignant.

  He crossed his arms over his chest.

  She continued.

  “Trauma training with military physicians before we embark on the true mission with civilian search and rescue teams and global disaster-relief organizations,” she explained, rather excitedly. “The training is strategically structured, meticulously designed. Every i dotted, every t crossed. I know you’ll appreciate that, Jude. The whole program is thought out to the minutest detail. And a principal of the group is a colleague—a college friend I’ve known since I was eighteen. Nikita Kane. Well, Nikki Balentine-Kane. Nik.”

  Kate took a breath. Then added, “Her husband, Conner, was also a college friend. He died following a rescue operation, after he’d saved three hotshot firefighters trapped in a canyon, but—”

  “He died following a rescue operation,” Jude simply stated. Though the angst exuding from him spoke volumes.

  “Jude.”

  “Kate.” His glare didn’t dim. “If for even one second you think you’re going to justify what you’re planning to do…” His jaw set so hard, she was shocked it didn’t shatter. “Goddamn it!” he roared as his arms unfolded and sliced through the air.

  She knew why. She’d just presented him with another double-edged sword.

  “I’m making you contradict everything you’ve ever said to me,” she acknowledged. “Every conviction you’ve ever had—in my favor.”

  Tears stung her eyes.

  Kate said, “You have always contended that whatever course I took was mine to take. You’ve understood that about me. Supported it. Defended it.”

  “Yeah, Kate. Defended it.”

  “Now, I’m doing something you can’t make heads or tails of.”

  “Something I can’t condone, Kate.”

  Pain lanced through her. “You say that now, because I’ve just shocked the hell out of you. Once you’ve listened to my reasoning, my purpose, you’ll—”

  “Kate.” His throat worked down a hard lump, momentarily drawing her attention. But it was his tattered tone that truly held her hostage as he said, “You suffered a mental stall-out over my apartment. Actually being in all this space and likely picturing those three kids and…us. I’d just questioned why we couldn’t be together, as a couple, and when I did, it happened at my apartment. With all this space staring you in the face.”

  She merely nodded. Knowing inherently Jude had much more to say. And he was certainly entitled to get it all off his chest.

  He told her, “I realize you didn’t plan on picking this very moment to spring your ‘grand plan’ on me. The timing is perfect, however. It is germane to the conversation.”

  Kate folded her own arms over her chest. “Don’t patronize me.”

  “You know I’m not,” he insisted. “You know I never would. I don’t take exception to the fact you have aspirations, Kate.”

  “What are you taking exception to, Jude?”

  “The fact those aspirations could get you killed!”

  They stared at each other. Tension permeated the air. A nearly palpable, suffocating tension.

  “You have every right to be agitated,” she said. “Of course, you do.”

  “And you have every right to do what you want to do,” he conceded. “Of course, you do. I would never hold you back—you said as much, earlier. But this isn’t like wearing a red dress to a black-and-white party, Kate. This is dangerous. Risky. Life-altering.”

  “Yes.” A few tears trickled down her hot cheeks. Kate ignored them. Attempted to ignore the tightening in her chest, but it was so constricting, she could barely breathe.

  She told him, “I’m not trying to intentionally put myself in danger. I’m trying to help people, Jude. Survivors of horrific, deadly disasters. Their family members, too. Some who might have actually lost a loved one in a given disaster. The point is to be on-the-spot. To make an immediate connection with these people. To help them through the trauma before it can fully manifest itself into something much more difficult to manage on the back end.”

  “I would never trivialize this, Kate. I would never think you were being careless. I know you better than that. I know you so much better than that.”

  His hand plowed through his hair. Then both hands raised in the air—though not in surrender.

  He said, “I don’t question your motives. They are nothing but honorable, I have absolute faith in that. You’re smart enough to cross those i’s and dot those t’s. Again…no question there.
What I can’t stomach, Kate… What I can’t wrap my mind around…”

  He grasped for the correct, adequate words. Something Kate had not witnessed him doing since those first sessions with him, when he’d attempted to explain how his world had fallen apart.

  More tears streamed down her flushed face. Kate stepped closer to him, her heart so massively mangled, it was a wonder a single beat registered.

  She said, “Jude, I formulated these plans before we even got together. I’d already told Nikki I was in. The legalities have recently transpired, yes. But I’d committed long before…” She swiped at the drops still flowing. “I’d already committed to this, Jude. And you would never ask me to back out of a commitment.”

  “I never would,” he agreed as his eyes locked with hers.

  “And I would never ask you to compromise your own personal convictions,” she said in turn. “Your wants…your desires. The apartment. All this space. All these bedrooms. Three kids and a wife…”

  His eyes squeezed shut. “Kate,” he murmured.

  “We’re on different trajectories. We always have been. For a couple of weeks, we found common ground. But we’re not meant for longevity, Jude. We can’t and don’t want to change each other. Who we are right this very second works… But who we are tomorrow or next week…” She shook her head. Sniffled. “Those are going to be very different people.”

  Kate moved around him, inching toward the door. Over her shoulder, she said, “I think you love me, Jude. I think I love you. But neither of us can own up to that fully. Not when we continually land on opposite ends of the spectrum.”

  She gave him a moment to process. To respond.

  When he remained quiet, only silently stewed, Kate turned back to the door.

  And walked out.

  I think you love me, Jude.

  Without question.

  I think I love you.

  He’d started to suspect…

  But neither of us can own up to that fully. Not when we continually land on opposite ends of the spectrum.

  That was highly debatable.

  And Jude was just the man to engage in that debate. The very beautiful and alluring Dr. Kate Stockman had never underestimated him.

  Until now.

  20

  Granted, the information Kate had so fiercely embargoed was nothing Jude could quickly or easily put into perspective.

  The fact that Kate was in love with him wasn’t exactly something Jude could quickly or easily put into perspective, either.

  She didn’t say in love.

  Jude glowered. But persevered with his ruminations. Despite the fact Kate had made this colossal decision without even considering its impact on Jude.

  He had the natural urge to chase after her, castigate her for not consulting him about this insane idea she had of going to Afghanistan—or contemplating how he’d respond to the news when she’d agreed to take this on.

  A part of him was furious.

  But there were conflicting emotions at war here, because another part of him wondered… Who was he to be offended she hadn’t discussed this with him?

  The guy who was sleeping with her.

  The man who was in love with her.

  All right. Valid rationalities.

  But Kate had always been her own person.

  Jude wouldn’t change that. Not even for—

  Fuck.

  He tapped his fingertips against his forehead.

  She’d told him she’d already set this plan into motion prior to them getting together, and Jude believed her.

  Chalk another one up for who the fuck is he to be offended she hadn’t discussed this with him?

  His cogent mind recounted more facts.

  Everything about Kate that got her family all spun up was everything about Kate that Jude…loved.

  Every nuance related to her that he could or could not balance out were nuances he loved.

  So what if Kate didn’t want kids, a huge house, a husband?

  Did that make Jude love her any less?

  So what if Kate was hell-bent on saving souls from demons born of extreme tragedy…potentially to her own detriment?

  Did that make Jude love her any less?

  “Goddamn you, Kate…” he mumbled. Then laughed, albeit gruffly.

  No…and…no.

  Nothing could make Jude love her any less.

  What he felt for her went well beyond anything he’d experienced before, anything he’d ever anticipated experiencing.

  In this instance, love seemed to be a perfunctory classification for what Jude felt.

  When what he really gravitated toward was an inherent and all-consuming want, need and desire where Kate was concerned.

  Yes, he loved her.

  But so very far above and beyond that, Jude acknowledged he couldn’t breathe properly without her. He couldn’t function properly without her. He couldn’t exist in a normal state without her.

  He wanted Kate.

  He needed Kate.

  He loved Kate.

  And equally significant to him? Jude believed to the depths of his soul Kate felt the same way about him.

  But she had a mission to embrace. Something important to her that she had to see through, which wasn’t just life-altering for her…but for him as well.

  What was Jude going to do about that?

  He deliberated over this as his gaze swept the foyer, giving it a critical assessment. He’d be lying if he said he couldn’t see him and Kate here. With kids. Living life to the fullest—on their terms.

  But at the moment, Kate’s focus was elsewhere.

  What he envisioned for them could wait, he considered.

  What Kate currently wanted to accomplish was something that couldn’t be shelved for a few years. It had to take place now. With her friend Nikki.

  So the one final question Jude had to ask himself was also the most crucial: could he suspend, or even forsake, his dreams for hers, allowing her to have everything she wanted…so he might still—and eventually in a larger capacity—be a part of her life?

  “Damn it,” he muttered as he dragged a hand down his face.

  Angst and uncertainty roiled through him.

  Jude had become a man who did whatever necessary to sculpt his own life, his own existence.

  That philosophy created its own dilemma, the crux of which meant Jude had just posed a question he honestly couldn’t answer…

  “I’m doing this.”

  Kate dropped her armful of portfolios onto the table in front of Nikki, then sank into the chair opposite her at the restaurant they’d agreed upon.

  “I paid a small fortune to expedite all the readings, interpretations, notarizations, et cetera. You owe me a glass of wine,” she told her friend. “A ridiculously expensive glass of wine.”

  With a smile, Nikki said, “Screw the wine. I have a ridiculously expensive bottle of champagne on ice.” She caught the eye of the sommelier and gave him a nod. “Enjoy it. We might be drinking swamp-swill overseas.”

  “Purified water will make me happy.”

  “It’s on the list.” Nikki reached for the first folio, flipped it open, noted Kate’s signature accompanied by a notary’s seal…and smiled. Then she said to Kate, “You are rock-solid, my friend.”

  “Not exactly.”

  Nikki’s crimson mouth turned downward.

  Kate waited until the free-standing ice chiller and champagne had been delivered, the cork popped and the glasses filled before she explained, “This rock shifted. Dislodged itself and is tumbling down a craggy surface.”

  Nikki sipped, then snickered. “You and your metaphors. Colorful, but…what are you talking about?”

  “I messed up,” Kate blurted. “Full-on, Nik. Like… Okay…” She shook her head. “No metaphors. I just straight-up messed everything to high heaven. See, there’s this guy—”

  “From The Plaza,” Nikki said, perking up.

  “Yes, that’s the one. And he’s so hot a
nd refined and gorgeous and smart and hot. Wait, I said hot already. But yes, so very, very hot.”

  Nikki sat back, a wicked flash in her emerald eyes. “This is about to get really good, isn’t it?”

  “No.” Kate groaned. “This is about to get really bad. Because I ended things with him.”

  “What?” Nikki inched forward again, resting her arms on the table. “What did you do, Kate?”

  “Nik,” she said before taking another deep sip. “He has his own life to live, his own ideals. He has this enormous house and he likes kids—”

  “You like kids, Kate,” she interjected.

  “Yes, I do like kids. Other peoples’ kids. I’m not intending to have any of my own, Nik.”

  “Well…not today…”

  “Nik.”

  They stared at each other.

  Kate’s friend said, “Conner and I weren’t considering it, either. Then he died. Now…?” She let out a long breath. “Kate, I’d give anything to have his kid nipping at my heels. Asking me about his dad. Reminding me every second of the day how inquisitive and vibrant Conner was. I would literally give anything, Kate.”

  Kate drained her glass, despite the lofty price tag warranting a classier approach. The subject matter demanded a healthy drink. She waited briefly for a refill, then took another sip as emotion cascaded over her.

  Then she said, “It would be a travesty if Jude didn’t procreate.”

  “Procreate, Kate?” Nikki rolled her misty eyes. “Remember who you’re talking to. Tell me in all Kate Stockman honesty and uncensored terminology what you’re thinking here.”

  “He’s the most beautiful man on the planet and he should have more than three perfect replicas of himself populating the earth,” she declared. Then took a breath before asking, “Honest and uncensored enough for you, Nik?”

  “Not quite,” her friend said. And sipped. “Who’s carrying these children in her equally beautiful womb?”

  “Not a woman on her way to Afghanistan.”

  “You’re not Persephone headed to Hades, Kate.”

  “That we know of, Nik.”

  Their eyes connected again.

  Nikki said, “It’s scary, I know.”

  “I’m not afraid of what I’m consenting to. I want to do this. What I’m terrified of is…” She reached for her drink once more.