“It’s your favorite show—the BBC version, not the one with Lucy Liu. And it’s not just that Cumberbatch guy that keeps you hooked. You watch so you can try to outsmart him and figure out the killer before him.” I gape at him, but he isn’t finished. “Reese’s Pieces, not peanut butter cups. Your favorite snack. Especially after midnight when you come home from work and can’t wind down enough to sleep.”
My lips part, but not one sound emerges. All I can manage is to stare at him as he continues listing details about me.
“You love ketchup and mayo on your fries, and you believe you need to lose ten pounds, which is utter bullshit. Especially if it’s in your ass.”
“Okay, you can stop now,” I whisper. “Point taken.”
“Is it, Cypress? Because that chip on your shoulder is so damn heavy, I’m surprised you don’t have a back like Quasimodo. Me, your sisters, even the people here in this shop—we care for you. We know you and care for you. More than those assholes you knew back in Cali.”
“How do you know they’re assholes?” I growl, his words striking their intended target over and over. “You’ve never met any of them.”
“Sweetheart, you told me yourself that your life was shit before you left to come back here. Anyone who didn’t help to make it better, who didn’t support you so it was even less shitty, who let you pack your car and drive across the country by yourself, are assholes in my book.” He lowers his head, his mouth only bare, damnable inches from mine. I can practically taste the kiss that I haven’t forgotten. “And that goes for anybody who dared call themselves your man. No man would let his woman suffer, shouldering worry for her mother, or serve drinks in a rathole bar while he sits on his cushy ass somewhere, not lifting a damn finger to help her. So yeah, babe, they’re assholes.”
Our harsh breaths boom in the silent room.
I want to yell at him, push him away, curse him out for acting like he knows me, knows my life. That chip he called out has protected me from spinning out and ending up like my parents, it’s shielded me from falling for people because they never get close enough to hurt me. If not for that chip, my soul and pride would be even more battered than it is from the year of retaliation tactics and petty vengeance my supervisor and coworkers doled out after I dared open my mouth and report the abuse women in the company were expected to just shut up and swallow.
But none of that comes out of my mouth.
Maybe if I stopped staring at his lips and wishing they were on me, sucking me, tormenting me. Maybe if I focused less on the clean, cedar-and-rain musk emanating off his skin, I could defend myself. Maybe if my body wasn’t on high alert and aching with the need to be treated to this man’s special brand of sexual torture, I could set him straight.
Maybe.
Oh Christ, I want him.
Want him to touch me, squeeze me, lick me…lay me out and pound into me.
“Hey, Jude, you—” At the sound of Eden’s voice, my body jerks, and I nearly jump away from Jude. She stands in the doorway, her gaze swinging back and forth between her brother-in-law and me. “Jude,” she starts again, “Analise is here.”
The sultry lust that gleamed in Jude’s hooded gaze disappears under a hard, sharp glint. The hunger suffusing his features evaporates, folding into anger before it, too, vanishes beneath a blank, impenetrable mask of indifference.
The air stalls in my lungs. I’ve never glimpsed this side of him before, witnessed this expression. It’s…disquieting.
“Thanks, Eden,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right there.” When she nods and backs out of the break room, he slides me a look that freezes the blood in my veins. “Stay here,” he orders, and the dark tone has more than a wealth ofdon’t argue with mein it.
Forget that.
I wait until he exits the room and his footsteps fade before following.
Before I even hit the tattooing area, I hear the raised voices. Well, voice. Jude’s tone is still cold, forbidding, but calm. But the feminine, higher-pitched one is strained, needy, and two decibels beneath screeching.
“—expect me to do when you won’t answer my calls or respond to my texts, Jude?” The slender blonde leans over the front desk and clutches at Jude’s arm. She’s gorgeous with thick, long hair that falls over the shoulders of her pink Burberry coat; wide, sky-blue eyes; and sculpted cheekbones that would sell millions for any cosmetic company. I resist the impulse to glance down at my uniform of T-shirt, ripped jeans, and boots. Her perfectly applied makeup is still pristine even though tears glisten in her eyes, and one rolls down her cheek. If not for the obvious pain darkening her gaze and drenching her voice, I might be real cynical about the effect of that lone tear. “I miss you.” She raises one hand to his cheek. “So much.”
“I expect you not to show up to my job and embarrass yourself and me,” he replies, not addressing the last part of her admission. Taking her hand in his, he removes it from him. “I told you not to do this again.”
Again?
Who is this woman? And why doesn’t anyone seem surprised that she’s making a scene in front of customers? Hell, some of the customers don’t even appear shocked.
“I know,” she whines. “But I just want to see you, hear your voice. You’re the only one I can talk to; you know that.”
“Ana, we’ve been over for months, and you pulling this isn’t helping you move on. You need to go.”
We’ve been over for months. The words echo in my head, loud, loud, louder. Fast, fast, faster. This stunning woman is clearly his ex from the direction of the conversation, but still, a hollow pit yawns wide in my stomach. And I hate the murky, twisting, hot emotion that’s filling it. Jealousy. I stumble back a step, horrified with myself. Jesus, I have no right to that. I don’t want any part of it. That green demon is the first step toward addiction, toward obsession. Like this woman. Like my mother…
“Who are you?” Ana demands. I blink. That damp gaze now blazes with a bright blue flame, and it’s directed at me. “And why are you wearing his sweatshirt?”
I glance down. Shit. I completely forgot about the hoodie. Jude swings around, his stare pinned on me. Hisfuriousstare pinned on me.
