by Lori Wilde
You’re the same way.
No, he wasn’t. Not anymore. Not since he’d met Jude.
Shaking his head, Tom returned to the task at hand, sanding a small computer desk a regular customer had commissioned for her daughter to use when she went off to college.
He was alone in the back of the store when the bell over the door jangled. Wiping his palms on the seat of his jeans, he sauntered into the main part of the store and saw his twin sister striding toward him.
Tara seemed to glow, and he had to admit, marriage agreed with her. Unlike his own dark hair, hers was newly highlighted with threads of gold. When he looked in the mirror, he saw lackluster brown eyes with fatigue shadows. Hers had sparkle.
“Hi, sis. You’re lookin’ good.”
“Thank you,” she beamed.
“Mom left early,” he said. “She had an appointment with her CPA.”
“I didn’t come to see Mom.”
“Huh.”
“I’ve been in my honeymoon bubble, but I had to find out what’s going on with you.”
“Me? Nothing’s going on with me.”
“The aunties and Mom are worried. You haven’t accepted any family invitations and you haven’t been returning texts or calls.” She wagged a finger. “I don’t know what’s happening with you—”
“It’s called working hard.”
“Hmph. That’s an excuse.” She tossed her head. “Anyway, the aunties are badgering me to find out if you’re coming to Thanksgiving dinner or not. Since you didn’t answer my texts either, I decided to check on you to see if you were still alive.”
He shrugged, not bothering to argue with a woman who’d shared his bathwater more than a quarter century ago.
“The aunties also want to know if you’re coming to Thanksgiving and will Jude be your plus one. By the way, dinner is at two p.m. and Pru says be on time or else!”
Aah, there it was. His family’s motivation for sending Tara over here. To find out if he and Jude were still an item.
“I’ll be at Thanksgiving…” He paused. “Without a plus one.”
“Oh, really, Tom?” His sister looked practically heartbroken.
“It’s fine.”
“I really liked Jude. What did you do to send this one running for the hills?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Ooh, little brother is getting pissy. You know I’m asking myself why.”
He wasn’t rising to the bait and telling her anything about Jude. “I’m only two minutes younger.”
“And those two minutes make all the difference,” she teased, and then her tone turned sympathetic. “It must have been a tough breakup if you’re not willing to talk about it.”
“We didn’t break up. We were never together. You can’t break up with someone you’re not with.”
“Jude might see things differently.”
“What do you mean?” He scowled.
“For a smart guy, you sure can be dense sometimes,” she said and walked right out the door.
He hated that his twin always seemed to get the last word.
Tom showed up at Aunt Pru and Uncle Horace’s house on Thanksgiving afternoon, promptly at two p.m. as instructed. The house was packed with relatives and it was easy—after the arrival hugs and greetings—to find a spot out of the fray.
He was sitting in the corner playing a game on his phone when the front door opened and two more guests were ushered in.
Dirk and his date…
Jude.
His college buddy had his arm draped around Jude’s shoulders as if it belonged there.
Tom positioned himself out of their direct line of sight, then ducked his head and prayed they didn’t see him. He was also trying to gauge if he could slip out the back door unnoticed and get the hell out of there. Considering the number of nephews engaged in horseplay between Tom and the door, he guessed his chances were slim to none.
One of his aunts ushered Dirk and Jude into the kitchen to deposit the food they’d brought, and Tom took the opportunity to head upstairs.
At the top of the landing, he ran into his sister who was coming out of the restroom, readjusting her clothing. Her grinning new husband followed, zipping up his pants.
“At Aunt Pru’s? For shame, sister.” Tom shook his head.
“We’re married.” Tara jutted her triumphant chin in the air. “It’s allowed.”
“Maybe I should just ask Aunt Pru about that. Or Mom.”
“No, don’t!” Tara grabbed his arm.
“She talks a big game.” Ben kissed the top of Tara’s head. “But she’s terrified of your mother and her sisters.”
“Hell,” Tom said. “I am too, but…” He pointed his index finger at his twin. “I have a bone to pick with you.”
“Me?” Tara put a palm to her chest. “What did I do?”
“Why are Dirk and Tara standing in Aunt Pru’s kitchen?”
She shrugged and raised both palms but couldn’t meet his gaze. “I dunno. The aunties might have mentioned something about inviting Dirk, but I knew nothing about the Jude thing.”
“They’re pretty much a couple nowadays,” Ben said, along with a soft oof as Tara nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.
Dirk with Jude? They were dating? Tom’s stomach sickened. He’d shoved her right into Dirk’s arms.
“We should go downstairs,” Tara said.
“Are you going to punch Dirk?” Ben asked. “You look like you’re going to punch him.”
“I’m not going to punch him,” Tom said.
“Why don’t I believe you?” Tara canted her head and sized him up with a dramatic side-eye.
“Aunt Pru just texted,” Ben said. “She wants everyone at the table. She’s serving dinner now. Her text is in all caps, so I think she means business.”
“Gotta go!” Tara trotted past him down the stairs.
“Don’t worry.” Ben clamped a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Watching them together—Jude and Dirk—I don’t think the chemistry is right.”
“You saw them together?”
Ben looked rueful.
“When?”
“Tara and I double-dated with them last night. We went to The Loophole.”
“What!”
“I told Tara you’d be upset.”
“Next you’ll tell me their vibes don’t vibrate.” Tom scowled all the way to his cheeks.
“Your sister thinks Jude’s pining over you.”
“Really?” His heart lurched and suddenly he was as needy as a teenager with his first crush.
“Tara is pretty perceptive. Trust her instincts.” Ben’s cell phone dinged again. “Oops, I’m not gonna be the one to incur Aunt Pru’s wrath. Dinner is on the table.”
Ben zoomed away.
His brother-in-law was right. Time to face the music. Tom had created this mess and he was the only one who could fix it.
Hauling in a deep breath, Tom followed Ben into the dining room packed with people and the woman he couldn’t get off his mind.
Jude’s heart had skipped a beat when she’d first seen Tom. She must have been crazy to come to his aunt’s Thanksgiving dinner, even with Tara and Dirk coaching her that it was the right thing to do.
She had her doubts.
Seeing him standing in the doorway, his stare fixed on her, sent Jude’s heart shooting into her throat. It was horrible feeling like a lovestruck teenager, tormented by physical longing even in the midst of a crowd. She wanted to spend every waking and sleeping moment with Tom, but she didn’t want to talk to him.
How could that be?
Coward!
She never should have come, but Dirk had been insistent that Thanksgiving dinner at Aunt Pru and Uncle Horace’s house was the perfect place and time to tell Tom the truth.
Jude took a deep breath, then straightened her spine. She had to put the ball in his court again. If he let her go again, she’d have to stop yearning for him and move on.
But the
re was no way she could sit down to dinner with Tom across the table and eat a bite of food. Not until they’d straightened things out between them.
Tom was all the way across the room, although his eyes had never once left hers. She couldn’t read his face. Had no idea what he was thinking. She hadn’t heard a peep from him in two weeks.
He wore a white chambray shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows and the top snaps open to reveal a sexy V and a thatch of silky brown hair. His jeans hugged his thighs and didn’t do much to turn off her overly active imagination. He was the only man she knew who was X-rated in ordinary clothes.
Jude wasn’t even aware that they were moving toward each other, but suddenly they were in front of each other, the lively family members all around them.
“Hello,” Tom said, his voice coming out a little ragged. “We need to talk.”
“Yes,” she said, her own voice none too stable. “Someplace private.”
“The basement okay?”
“That’ll do.”
“Hurry back,” Aunt Pru said. “We’ll wait to carve the turkey.”
“No, we won’t,” Uncle Horace added. “You take all the time you need. We have three microwaves that’ll heat up any cold food nicely.”
Jude looked over her shoulder at Dirk, giving him a thumbs-up. He nodded and waved her away.
Tom scowled and she had the crazy idea he would throw her over his shoulder and carry her out if she didn’t hurry. The same way he’d carried her up three flights of stairs the last time she’d seen him.
Instead, he took her elbow and literally pulled her into the basement and locked the door behind them.
Her heart galloped.
He smiled for the first time a wicked grin that made her feel hot needles in her nether regions. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
“What is it?” she whispered.
The look he gave her could melt butter. “Jude, I’ve got a burning question I need an answer to.”
“All right.” She braced herself, unsure what he was going to ask.
“Are you and Dirk…” He gulped so hard his Adam’s apple jerked. “Did he…win you?”
“Win me? I’m not a Kewpie doll prize on some carnival midway game, Tom.”
“Are you with him?”
“Do you mean is Dirk still in the competition?”
“Yes,” he whispered so softly she could hardly hear him.
“As far as I know he is.”
“Does that mean—”
“I’m not dating Dirk, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You decided not to go wild after all?”
“I told you a long time ago, there was someone else I was interested in, not Dirk.”
“Oh.” Crestfallen, he jammed his fingers through his hair. “Am I too late?”
“For what, Tom? To win me? Yes, yes, you are.”
His shoulders collapsed and his eyes filled with so much pain that Jude could see exactly how much he cared for her.
“You’re too late,” she went on. “Because you’re already won me.”
“I have?” Hope bounced across his face.
She pressed her palms together in front of her heart and grinned wide. “You charmed the pants off me, Tom Brunswick, even though you were in no position to take them off.”
“I did?” Gratitude laced through his voice.
“I’d like to continue to explore our relationship and to learn and grow together as a couple,” she murmured. “If that’s something you’re interested in.”
“Jude,” he said, “there’s nothing I would love more. But what about Dirk? If you’re not dating him, then why are you here with him? Why did you double-date with Tara and Ben?”
“To arrange this. Dirk truly is sincere about curtailing the competitions between you two. In fact, he’s got a woman he’s interested in and although he hasn’t confessed to you yet, he’s already lost the bet. You win.”
“I don’t care about the bet,” Tom said breathlessly, his intense dark eyes burning holes through her. “All I care about is you.”
“Then why did you run out on me the last night we were together? Why haven’t you called or texted me in the past two weeks?”
“Why haven’t you called or texted me?” he asked.
“You were the one who left. I was giving you space and time to figure things out.”
“But not today?”
“No,” she said. “Not today. I couldn’t stay in suspended animation waiting for you to come to your senses. Because of your help, I’ve become bold enough to go after what I want. Cards on the table, Tom. I want a relationship with you, but if that’s something you can’t give me, I need to move on.”
He dropped to one knee in front of her.
Jude’s heart flew into her throat again and sang like a caged bird. He wasn’t about to propose to her, was he? That would be moving just a little too fast. They still had so much to learn about each other before things went that far, but she was hopeful that this time, she’d backed the man.
She admired so much about him—his positivity, his family, his thirst for lifelong learning and constant improvement. Even his desire to win was a good quality as long as he learned not to take it too far. She had confidence it was a lesson he’d taken to heart. She didn’t want to change him. Instead, she wanted to bring out the best in him the same way he brought out the best in her. She’d only known him for a little over two weeks, but he’d already helped her so much to overcome her fears and live life on her own terms. To stop letting other people’s opinions matter so much.
“What on earth are you doing?” she squeaked, her knees trembling.
He looked up at her from where he was still kneeling, a sweet grin on his face, and said, “Your shoe is untied.”
“Oh!” She laughed.
“There,” he said and patted her shoe. “All tied up nicely.”
“Nice shoes for a nice woman?”
Tom got to his feet. “Sweetheart, you are so much more than just nice. You’re wicked smart and unselfish. You care about people and making the world a better place, and all I want to do is learn more and more about you. It’s been so much fun peeling back the layers of your personality.”
“I feel the same way about you.” Her breath slipped from her lungs, soft and fluid, awash in the flow of life, in the pivotal turning point.
Smiling, Tom tugged her into his arms and kissed her until her body was tingling from head to toe from it.
That’s when the lights went out.
And there, in the basement of his aunt and uncle’s home, one bold woman made love to one competitive man, shattering his vow of celibacy, and it was glorious.
Epilogue
One year later…
“What do you think?” Tom asked as he carried Jude over the threshold of the honeymoon suite of their Paris hotel room near the Eiffel Tower.
Jude Brunswick barely registered the magnificent view from the large plate glass window overlooking the romantic city. She was too busy staring into the face of her new husband, and her heart filled with such utter bliss, she could hardly contain her joy.
The past year had been a whirlwind as they dated and got to know each other fully. As they shared secrets, went on daring adventures, and made wild, crazy love together, each day had been better than the last.
“It’s wonderful.” She wasn’t talking about the room with its brocade drapes and white French provincial furniture or the monument outside or the champagne iced in a silver bucket at the foot of king-sized bed.
“Now, Mrs. Brunswick,” he said, setting her down as the door closed behind them, “what would you like to do first?”
“When in France, do as the Parisians do.”
He murmured something terribly romantic in French—they’d taken French lessons together before the wedding, and they’d learned enough to get by in the City of Lights. She loved how he loved to learn as she did.
“And that means?”
“Making love, mon cheri.” The language sounded so erotic on his tongue. “But first, a wager.”
“Not another competition.” She groaned good-naturedly. Truth be told, she adored the way he turned everything into a fun game and yet, at the same time, he’d learned how not to take his competitive streak too far.
It was the best of both worlds.
“Oh, you’re going to like this competition.”
“I am?”
His eyes glistened with desire. “I propose we see just how many times we can make love in one night. I’m betting my reputation on three.”
“Three?” Jude scoffed. “This is our honeymoon. We’ll make love at least four times tonight.”
“You have much more confidence in my prowess than I do.”
“My confidence is in the sexy lingerie in my suitcase, buddy. You’ll be putty in my hands.”
“Either way,” he said. “It’s a win-win competition.”
“It’s already three p.m., we better make haste and get on it.”
“C’mere.” He pulled her into his strong arms and kissed her deeply, seriously, his fingers busy with the buttons on her white linen suit jacket. Under it she was wearing only a lacy bra, and he plucked at one cup until his fingers embraced the naked swell of her breast.
He discarded her bra as quickly as he did her jacket, and then he slid her short skirt down her legs. It was incredibly arousing to stand naked in the arms of her new husband in a suit.
“I love you,” he murmured. “So very much. Since you came into my life, nothing has been the same and in the very best of ways.”
“Ditto,” she agreed. “I love you more than words.”
“So let’s dispense with the words.”
“On board with that.”
Laughing, he started doing something wonderful with his tongue, at the same time dropping his hands lower, fondling her bottom until she almost danced with eagerness. His tongue teased her nipple, and his hand slid between her legs, parting them...
“God, being with you is a thrill a minute.”
“We’re going to have so much fun tonight. We should put room service on speed dial.”