Page 60 of Do It Yourself
Jude’s leaning against his truck when I finally make it to him. Goddamnit, why does he have to look so good? His outfit is nothing special, dark shorts and a “Warren Honey” t-shirt with his classic backwards ball cap, it definitely shouldn’t cause my pussy to clench with want.Traitoroushussy.
“Sorry, I couldn’t find my keys.” I’d rather die than tell him the truth. He doesn’t say anything, of course, back to the silent giant persona I’ve known for the last two years. His gaze travels down my body, assessing what I’m wearing, and I can see the slight tightening around his eyes when he spots my footwear choice.
I want to tease him, stick my tongue out and ask if he’s got a problem with my outfit but I don’t. Instead, I offer an eye roll before walking to the passenger side of his truck. “Let’s go, don’t want to be late.” Jude only offers a grunt in response before climbing into the truck and taking us towards his family.
We ride in silence and it’s awkward as hell. I can see the muscles in Jude’s jaw tighten with each mile we get closer to our destination. I’m almost convinced he’s going to crack a tooth with how hard he’s clenching but I remain silent.
Every fiber of my being wants to say something. Ask what I did wrong to make him go so cold on me so quickly, but I know I’ll cry before I can even get the full question out. I really don’t want to have red eyes and a blotchy face when I meet Jude’s family.
I do shoot a glance over to Jude as we park in front of a house. Now it’s not only his jaw that’s tight but his whole body is locked up with tension. Before I can stop myself, I raise a hand to offer some sort of reassurance, fully intending to give his thigha quick squeeze. Jude sees and all but flinches away from me. “Let’s get this over with.” He grumbles, hopping out of the truck like it’s on fire.
Well, shit.
If I had any doubts that he was sick and tired of me, they have been stomped into dust by that reaction. I jump out of Jude’s truck and follow him up to the front door. He raises his hand and knocks on the door, stepping back an inch. I can’t stop my brow furrowing, he’s not just going to walk in?
I can’t remember a time when Jude knocked before walking into the Big House. Mama’s always had an open door policy, especially for her children. Despite how fifty percent of her children felt about him, that had somehow come to include Jude as well.
Jude’s around for the family more than Paul.
No, that’s not fair. Paul doesn’t live or work for the Farm and he has his own family. Sort of family. People who rely on him.
I’m saved from more spiraling when the front door swings open. An older man stands in the doorway, stopping us from entering the house.
“Leeson.” Jude’s voice is lower than I’m used to. It has an edge of something that I don’t recognize, something sharp and so unlike Jude that I’m stunned to hear it from my quiet giant.
No, not my anything.
Shaking that thought from my head as quickly as it entered, I look back at the man still standing in the doorway. He didn’t answer Jude, instead his gaze is focused on my legs, his brow is furrowed. I take this chance to take him in as well, nothing else to do when he won’t let us in the freaking house.
He kind of looks like Stanley Tucci from that one movie about the dead girl.
I wonder what his problem is. It’s hot as balls today and these shorts go down to my knees. My shirt’s not even low-cut. Maybehe just hates that Jude brought someone unexpectedly? That doesn’t make much sense, it’s been almost four days since Jude’s phone call with his mother.
“Come in.” Finally, he steps back and Jude and I file into the house. It seems like most people are in the backyard, I follow Jude across the house to head to the back as well, we stop right before the doors to the backyard for a moment. I can tell Jude’s tense and I have to stop myself from reaching out to comfort him but I can give him a second to take a couple deep breaths.
“Jude! So happy you could make it.” A woman who is clearly his mother, same coloring as Jude, but about six inches shorter than me, walks over to us with her arms splayed wide.
“Mother. This is Mabel. Mabel, this is my mother Ruth Jensen.”
Jensen?
“I thought your last name was Daniels?” An ugly sound, almost like a wet cough but not quite, makes me flinch. Leeson is standing a little too close for comfort to my side.
“Jude decided not to change his name when Ruth and I married. One of the many ways he’s tried to put distance between the rest of his family.” The acid in Leeson’s tone almost burns my skin.
“Hard decision to make when you’re fourteen.” Jude’s response is equally as harsh.
“Oh, well, hindsight and all that.” Jude’s mom laughs but it’s brittle ,and her eyes dart between the two men in our little group. “Mabel, dear, come with me. You must be hungry, let’s go make you a plate and I can do some introductions.” I’m happy to take the excuse to leave this conversation and disband this tense group but I’m not going anywhere without Jude, so despite my promise to myself to keep things overtly platonic, I reach out to intertwine my fingers with Jude and pull him outside with me.
Chapter Fifty
JUDE
Ihave to actively fight to stop myself from asking my mom why she assumed Mabel must be hungry when it’s clear no one else at this gathering has started to get food. The idea that my mother is making a snide comment about Mabel’s weight stokes the annoyance that’s been building since Leeson leered at her when he opened the door. I don’t think my mood could be worse.
I can only hope that the afternoon goes by quickly, the only positive of my annoyance is that it overshadows the heartbreak of knowing this was going to be the last time I was going to be with Mabel. I can’t stop my fingers from tightening around her fingers that are intertwined with mine.
She turns her head to look at me, worry flickering across her face. I offer a quick shake of my head, doing my best to silently communicate that she doesn’t need to worry about me. Not anymore.
