Текст книги "Crush"

Автор книги: Nicole Williams

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“Forgive me for speaking my mind, but I am a Xavier,” he said. “How is controlling healthy for anyone?”

“Jude isn’t controlling,” I said, taking a breath. “He’s protective.”

“There’s a difference?” he asked, having a spoonful of soup. It was probably cold by now.

“Yeah, there’s a huge difference. Controlling is completely different from protective.” I was tempted to whip out my phone and go all Webster’s on his ass. “Jude’s protective of me because he knows exactly what kind of nasty crap is out there in the world and he doesn’t want me to ever experience it. And if I did, he’s both willing and capable of protecting me.” I tried to keep from sounding defensive. I liked Anton, but his questions were starting to bug me. “However, even though I know he wishes I’d let him do it, he lets me make my own decisions. The only person who controls me is me.”

Anton pursed his lips. “Controlling, protective, possessive. I’d lump all those into the same category,” he said, watching me. “Unhealthy.”

This guy didn’t know when to back off. Neither did I.

“What did you major in, in college?” I asked, hoping that if I tried a different path of explanation I could win the conversational battle.

“I doubled in political science and economics,” he said, seeming unfazed by my abrupt turn in conversation.

“Okay, so in political science terms . . .” I mused, rolling my fingers over the table. Lightbulb alert.

“Jude isn’t a tyrant. He doesn’t rule over me or expect that I obey his every word. He’s more like an adviser,” I explained. “An adviser who not only offers good advice but who knows how to kick ass if required to.”

Anton took a couple more sips of soup, stalling. “So you’ve got drama, he’s”—he purposely cleared his throat—“protective, and you can’t tell me exactly why you love him, just that you couldn’t not love him. Lucy, don’t slap me too hard, but that sounds like you’re smitten. Or infatuated. Not in love.”

Boy, I wasn’t catching a break this afternoon. From Jude to Anton, these guys were going to make me lose it. I inhaled and counted to five. It didn’t matter what Anton thought, nor did it matter what anyone else thought. I wasn’t going to let doubt back into my mind. I loved Jude. He loved me. He’d proven himself again and again, over the course of four years. I was through with doubt.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” I said, setting my fork down, because I was finished with lunch and this conversation. “We should probably get back.”

“Lucy,” he said, “I didn’t mean to offend you. I speak my mind, when most of the time I shouldn’t.”

“Because you’re India’s brother, my boss, and a pretty cool guy, I think we should make a pact to not speak about my relationship again.” I stared at him straight on. “Because I will not, for another second, let you try to put down what Jude and I have. You don’t understand us. That’s fine. You wouldn’t be the first and you sure as hell won’t be the last. But I can’t be your friend if you keep saying these things.”

“You can’t hear anything you don’t want to hear?”

“No, that’s not it. With Jude and me, we’ve been through more in four years than most couples would go through in four lifetimes together. I get that the odds are not in our favor. I also don’t care.” Wow, I was on a roll. Time to get off my soapbox before I slipped off and broke my neck. “I’m sick of hearing people tell us how not right we are for each other. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean we’re not true.”

Anton lifted his hands in surrender. Good call. “Fair enough. I think I can manage that.”

“We’ll see,” I said. I had my doubts about how Anton was going to “manage.”

THIRTEEN

My apartment sounded like a herd of rhinos had been set loose on it.

The little man was doing his namesake proud, hollering and grunting like a caveman. I’d had a long day at work, my feet were killing me, and I was exhausted, but I couldn’t get to my apartment fast enough.

It felt like forever since I’d had someone to look forward to seeing when I got home. So long since voices other than mine or the ones coming from the TV had filled my apartment.

Stopping in front of the door, I knocked. It felt a little strange knocking on my own front door, until I heard the clop, clop, clopping of little caveman feet thundering toward the door.

“Aunt Luce is here! Aunt Luce is here!” Although Luce sounded more like Woose.

The door opened so hard it bounced against the wall. “Aunt Luce!”

I propped a hand on my hip. “Have you seen a little boy, sir? His name’s Jude, and he’s about this tall.” I held my hand out at his shoulder level. “His uncle Jude and I got him a present.”

“Aunt Luce, it’s me!”

“What? No way. You are way too big to be little Jude.”

He rolled his eyes. Not even four years old and the kid could manage a solid eye roll. No doubt he’d perfected that move from his mama. However, he was the spitting image of Sawyer, his father. So much so that when his face lit up with his smile, I forgot where I was and who was standing in front of me. “Mom says I’m growing like a weed, and I’m not little Jude anymore. I’m LJ,” he declared, standing a little taller.

“LJ, eh?” I said. “Says who?”

“Says Thomas,” he said, pointing back into the apartment.

A loud crash, followed by Holly firing off a string of, “Fudge, fudge, fudgity, fudge.” Sounded like I was needed.

“Is LJ too big to give those really good hugs of his?”

LJ gave this a moment’s thought before shaking that mop of golden brown hair. “Nah.”

I opened my arms and he dived right in. “Good. Because I’ve been dying for a good hug.” Planting a kiss on his cheek, I headed inside. “Are you already demolition-derbying my apartment?” I shouted over at Holly, who was furiously picking up Jude’s old football trophies that had toppled off their shelf.

“I’ve got a little boy who believes he’s a T. rex half of the time,” she replied, setting the last trophy back into place. “The question isn’t if this place will be demolished; it’s when.” Holly crossed the room, looking more frazzled than I’d ever seen her. I suppose traveling across the country with a little one would do that to a girl. “Are you sure you don’t want to rethink this, Lucy? It’s not too late, you know. I haven’t finished unpacking all our junk.”

“If you even think about leaving, I will literally tie you up and hold you prisoner,” I said, hugging LJ tighter.

Giving me a hug from the side, Holly mussed LJ’s hair. “Well, it’s your security deposit and sanity.”

Apparently two momlike girls fussing over him was his limit. Making a face, LJ squirmed out of my arms. “How was the flight?”

“It was a whole heck of a lot better than it could have been, thanks to my friend children’s Benadryl,” Holly said, watching LJ beeline for the kitchen. “Hey, give Thomas two minutes to himself.”

“Hey, Thomas! Didn’t have anything better to do tonight?” I called into the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed he’d stuck around after picking Holly and Jude up from the airport when I walked in, but Holly and LJ had a way of taking up a person’s attention.

Waving a spoon in the air, Thomas grinned. “I told Holly I’d hang around for a while and chill with LJ while she got settled in,” he said, right before LJ tackled his legs.

“Jude Michael Reed!” Holly shouted. Damn, she had the mom tone down so well I flinched. “If you don’t calm down and start acting like the sweet, good little boy I know you can be, poor Thomas will never come back to see us.”

Thomas’s eyes shifted to Holly, and even though they were dark brown, I would have sworn they went a little soft. Holly had already left an impression on him. He waved his spoon again. “I’ve got three little brothers, so I guarantee you there’s nothing he can do to me that hasn’t already been done.”

Turning off a burner, Thomas grabbed LJ and tossed him over his shoulder before galloping around the room in circles. The poor neighbors below us.

“So that’s your dance partner?” Holly said, watching the two of them charging and squealing around the room.

“That’s him.”

“I can see why Jude went ape shit when he found him undressing you,” she said, heading back toward her suitcase.

“That’s not exactly a revelation, Holly. Jude does, would, and will go ape shit on anything that remotely resembles a man who tries to help me undress.” I followed her and plopped down on the sofa.

“Yeah, but Thomas is cute,” she said, stealing a glance at him.

My brows came together. Thomas was good-looking in a beautiful kind of way. Dark, long hair, eyes almost as dark, and flawless alabaster skin. He was easy on the eyes and had caught the attention of more than the majority of female dancers at school, but their cute and Holly’s cute didn’t seem like they would have aligned. Holly was more on the same page as me: she liked the rough, rugged, raw, handsome, all-male type.

“You think Thomas is cute?” I asked.

“Don’t you?”

I shrugged, watching Thomas and LJ where they now wrestled on the ground. “Yeah. But—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Holly interrupted. “He plays for the other team. That’s obvious. Look how thoughtful he is, how well he dresses, and how his eyes never wander below my neck.”

I was about to clarify Thomas’s sexual orientation when LJ went off like a fire alarm. I made a mental note to pick up some Excedrin next time I was at the store.

“Aunt Luce, is this for me?” he asked. Well, he yelled.

“LJ. Were you going through Aunt Lucy’s things?” Holly said as he sprinted toward us with a present in hand. Jude had even had it wrapped in yellow-and-blue paper.

“It was in her bedroom,” he said, turning the present over in his hands.

“What were you doing in her bedroom? I told you Lucy’s bedroom is off-limits.”

“I forgot to tell you,” I said, grabbing LJ and tossing him into my lap. “You guys are going to take my room and I’m going to be out here.”

“What?” Holly said, like she’d heard me wrong. “No. No way, Lucy Larson. We came on the understanding we’d inconvenience you, not straight-up displace you.”

Thomas crashed down beside me. His hair looked like it had been whirled around in a blender a few times.

“Will you listen to me for once, you stubborn brat? You and LJ are taking my room. He needs a quiet spot where he can sleep, and there are two of you. I already ordered a twin mattress and a couple room dividers to set up out here for me, so it’s done.” I arched a brow and waited. Holly liked to argue with me almost as much as Jude did.

What she did next, though, I wasn’t expecting. I’d been braced and ready for another five rounds of back-and-forth. Instead she threw herself down beside me and pulled me into a hug that was so tight it almost cut my airway off.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you and Jude.” She sniffed into my hair. I’d never seen her cry. In fact, I’d come to the conclusion she couldn’t cry.

“You’d be fine, Holly,” I assured her, just like either Jude or I did when she tried to give us more credit than we were due. Holly had crossed the proverbial Nile all on her own. Jude and I had just been there to provide a little help along the way. Patting her back a few times, I winked at LJ. “Well. Are you going to keep staring at that thing all night or are you going to tear into it?”

His face lit up right before a hurricane of wrapping paper flew into the air.

“A football!” he said, jumping up and down. “A real football. Not a baby one.” Arching his arm back, he launched it straight into Thomas’s stomach.

Thomas grunted, fumbling with the ball like he didn’t know whether to throw it or pirouette with it.

“Holy snickies,” Holly said, examining the ball in Thomas’s hands. “Are those signatures on that thing?”

“Snickies, yeah,” I replied, realizing I’d have to really watch my mouth now that an innocent set of ears was around. That, more than anything else, seemed like it would be the hardest part of this situation.

“As in the signatures of a certain Jude Ryder and the rest of his teammates?” Holly was gaping at the ball now.

I shot her a smirk. “No. Jude Ryder and the rest of the members of the Bad Boys Club.”

“In that case,” she said with a slow smile, “where are the phone numbers?”

Thomas handed the ball back to LJ before popping up from the couch. Zeroing in on the door, he shifted. “I’d better get back,” he said. “I’ve got an hour’s drive ahead of me.”

Holly and I exchanged a look. Thomas had seemed ready to spend the night on the couch, and now he couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

Hopping up, I followed after him. “Thanks again, Thomas,” I said, opening the door for him. “I owe you a solid.”

He paused in the doorway and looked back to where LJ was tossing his ball to Holly. “No, you don’t. I haven’t had this much fun since karaoke night, when you sang a drunken version of ‘Hey Jude’ before falling off the stage.”

I scowled at him. That was a night I didn’t like to remember. Jude had been in town that weekend, and the bartender had been a bit heavy-handed with my drinks that night. The result wasn’t pretty.

Thomas still couldn’t take his eyes off Holly, so I began to hatch a plan. “How about you let me make you dinner Friday night, then? As a way to express my undying thanks.”

I waited while he worked out something in his head.

“Come on. You can stay the night here, so you won’t have to worry about driving late at night.”

His eyes widened at that. “Are you sure?”

“Hol,” I called over my shoulder, “are we sure we want Thomas over for dinner Friday night?”

After launching the ball into LJ’s arms, she glanced over at us. I swore I heard an uptick in Thomas’s heart. “Seven o’clock,” she said. “Don’t be late.”

I grinned victoriously at Thomas and waited.

“It’s a date,” he said at last, before his face reddened. “I mean, it’s a dinner. A dinner date . . .” Another shade redder. “I mean Friday’s the date, and dinner’s the event.” Wincing, he turned around. “I’m going to go die now.”

“Thanks for everything!” Holly shouted as he headed into the hall. “It was nice meeting you, Thomas.”

He stuck his head back into the apartment. “It was nice meeting you, Holly.”

She shot him a smile that made the poor guy go another shade darker. Giving me a wave, Thomas hurried down the hall. He didn’t make it two doors down before he tripped over . . . his own two feet.

“You all right down there, Grace?” I called out as he caught himself before he bit it.

“I’m not exactly feeling like myself tonight,” he replied, glaring at his feet like they’d betrayed him.

“I wonder why.” I gave him a wry smile.

His shook his head. “Good night, Lucy.”

“Good night, Grace.”

He gave me a thumbs-up before making it down the rest of the hall in one piece. I’d never seen Thomas trip like that, not once in our three years of performing together.

“What did you do to that boy?” I asked as soon as I closed the door.

“Made him think twice about having kids,” Holly said, getting back to work on unpacking her suitcase.

“No, he has the Holly bug so bad—”

“Jude!” Holly shouted, rushing over to where LJ stood in front of my potted fern. His pants were around his ankles. “Please, please, please don’t tell me you just peed on Aunt Lucy’s plant.”

LJ pulled up his pants and shrugged. “It looked thirsty.”

I burst out in laughter, but was silenced almost as quickly when Holly turned her power glare on me.

Giving me a look that said, Just laugh one more time, I dare ya, she marched over to LJ. “Where are you supposed to go potty?”

“The bathroom,” LJ said, like it was obvious.

“Specifically.”

“The toilet.” He sighed.

“So why did you just pee in Aunt Lucy’s plant?”

“I told you. It was thirsty.”

Auntie intervention in order. Grabbing the watering can from the counter, I headed over to where Holly towered over LJ. “You’re right; it was thirsty. But I know for a fact my little fern is allergic to little-boy pee”—I elbowed Holly before she elbowed me right back—“so next time it’s thirsty, you can use this to give it some water.” I handed the can to LJ. “This will be your job here. To keep the plant happy and healthy. Think you can handle that?”

LJ inspected the can, turning it over a few times before nodding. “Yeah. I’ll take care of the plant, Aunt Luce,” he said, sounding as solemn as an almost four-year-old boy could. Then his eyes shifted to the TV in front of the sofa and they lit up. “Mom? Can I watch Yo Gabba Gabba?”

Holly checked the clock on the kitchen wall. “Go for it.”

After carefully placing the watering can beside the plant, LJ skipped over to the TV and grabbed the remote.

“Does he need help with that?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? He’s known what time and what channel Yo Gabba Gabba! is on since he was two,” she said, looking from the plant to me. “Sorry about that. Like I said, a little caveman.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, “and if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the first time it was peed on. I’m almost certain Jude had that honor after we burned through a couple bottles of champagne New Year’s Eve and the bathroom was just too far to go when he had to go.”

“Men,” Holly said, curling her nose at the plant. “They look for any excuse they can to whip that thing out. Age isn’t a factor. Obviously.” Her eyes landed on LJ, who was enraptured by a show that looked like it was conceived during an acid trip.

“Come on. Let’s get your stuff moved into the bedroom so you guys can get some sleep,” I said, grabbing another suitcase of theirs. “I’m sure you’re beat.”

“Like a punching bag,” she said, grabbing another suitcase and following me. “Aunt Lucy and I are going to finish unpacking. Let me know if you need anything, LJ.”

“Are the brownies done yet?” LJ asked, his eyes glued to the TV.

Holly glanced at the timer on the microwave. “Another twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding like twenty minutes was an eternity. “I love you, Mom.”

All the stress lines on Holly’s face ironed out. “I love you, Jude.”

“It’s LJ,” he said, looking away just long enough to meet Holly’s gaze.

“Sorry, I forgot,” she said. “I love you, LJ.”

Damn. The kid could pee on any and every surface in the apartment if he kept saying stuff like that. The apartment felt full again. I felt full again.

Mostly.

I knew no matter how many bodies I packed into the place, it would never be enough to fill the void Jude had left behind. No one could fill that empty place except for him.

Heaving the suitcase on top of the bed, I unzipped it and got to work. I’d already put on fresh sheets and emptied out the closet and drawers to make room for Holly and LJ.

“Lucy, I still don’t feel right taking your room,” Holly said, tossing her bag onto the bed as well. “I mean, it’s your place. You should get the bedroom.”

“Would you stop already?” I said, opening the top dresser drawer before layering LJ’s pants into it. “It’s done. My decision’s final. End of subject.”

“I love it when you talk bitch to me,” Holly said, snagging a few hangers from the closet. “It gets me all excited.”

I laughed and tossed her LJ’s coat to hang up. “How’s the job search going? Any luck so far?”

I loved that I was friends with a woman who believed in creating her own destiny.

“I start tomorrow night,” she said proudly, sliding a teeny-weeny dress onto a hanger.

“Amazing. You can find a job in this town from across the country in a weekend’s time. It took me weeks, and even then, I had to have a friend’s older brother throw me a job bone.”

Holly shrugged. “I had to have a friend’s help, too.” She smiled at me before situating a few hangers back into the closet.

“What salon did you get on with?”

“Les Cheveux Chic,” she said. “And it’s only, like, a half mile away, so I can walk to work.”

“Wow. That’s one of the best salons in town, Holly,” I said, impressed. “Way to go.”

“Yeah, well, I guess they were desperate for someone, with all the new business they’ve been getting, so when the owner heard I’d been clipping and dyeing my share of heads for five years, she pretty much hired me right then over the phone.” Holly scooped an armload of bras and panties from her suitcase. I think every color of the rainbow was represented, as well as every pattern and fabric. Not a bad collection for a girl who claimed to go sans underwear half the time. “However, my schedule sucks balls. I’m working nights and weekends and have a grand total of one day off.” Sliding open a dresser drawer in the closet that had been Jude’s, she dropped her racy unmentionables inside.

“What hours at night?”

“Six to ten Monday through Thursday,” she answered. “Apparently the salon’s trying to be friendlier to working women.”

“And here I’d been under the impression working women worked nights,” I teased, pulling out the next drawer.

“Who’s been telling on me?” Holly threw back, slingshotting a bright yellow thong at my face.

I dodged it before it landed on me. “I bet working those night shifts when you have all those professionals coming in, you’ll make a ton in tips.”

“Probably,” she said with a shrug, “but I’m having a hell of a time finding child care for Jude. It seems every day care in this town closes by six o’clock, and if I can’t find day care, then I can’t take the job.”

I smiled. It was nice to be able to help out. “I happen to know of a certain auntie’s child care that’s got an opening and is available twenty-four-seven.”

Holly froze, right before her face wrinkled. “No way, Lucy. No, no, no way,” she said. “You’ve done about ten times too much already. There’s no way I could let you babysit my little man four nights a week plus the entire weekend. No. Way.”

I rolled my eyes. Holly didn’t understand that I wasn’t doing this strictly out of the goodness of my heart. I wanted someone to fill my time so I wouldn’t mope around pining for Jude. I couldn’t imagine anyone who was more up to the task of distracting me than LJ.

“Yes way,” I replied, sliding the drawer closed.

“Don’t you even think about arguing with me on this, Lucy Larson,” Holly warned, wagging a finger at me. “Because I will win.”

I wasn’t planning on arguing. I was planning on being victorious.

“Holly, you and LJ are like family. I love you both. Let me do this.”

My pleas were working. A little.

“Come on. This solves both of our problems. You need someone to watch LJ and I need someone to keep me company.” Holding up a little shirt of his that read, LADIES’ MAN, I continued. “It’s a win-win.”

Holly’s mouth had fallen open about midway through my last spiel. Shaking her head, she looked at me like I was certifiable. “Are you serious, Lucy?” she asked. “You do realize what you just witnessed isn’t just a sugar high, right? That’s the way he is all day, every day. It’s nonstop, on-the-top-of-your-game supervision.”

I crossed my arms. “Are you done yet?” I asked.

“Are you done yet?” she mimicked.

“No, I’m not. I can go all night long, baby,” I said. “I’m not giving up until I get my way, so why don’t you save us the time and effort and just cave already.”

A few moments passed in silence. Nothing but the sound of that trippy-ass music filling the apartment, before her eyes went a little watery. “Come here, you stubborn, sweet woman,” she said, flapping her arms.

I let Holly hug me until I felt like I was going to pass out again.

A couple hours later, the apartment was dark and, other than LJ’s little man-snoring, quiet. In two hours’ time, we’d managed to get them unpacked, worked out a weekly schedule that detailed when I’d be watching LJ as well as a chore and shopping list, bathed LJ (which was more like what I imagined it would be like to wrestle with a slippery sea lion), and cleaned up not one, but two cups of spilled milk.

Neither LJ nor I cried over it, but Holly was close when spill number two wound up on my coat. I’d sent her to bed, promising I’d send LJ in right after he’d had his third try at a cup of milk.

I added spill-proof cup to the shopping list before tucking him in next to Holly, who was already so deep in sleep she didn’t even shift when LJ crawled in beside her.

Until my bed got here, I was camping out on the couch, which was pretty comfortable when you paired it with a couple of cozy blankets and pillows. Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I felt myself drifting off to sleep. The day had been exhausting for me, too.

That was when my phone rang.

I snapped awake. I couldn’t believe I’d almost forgotten Jude’s and my nightly call. Blinking to clear my sleepy eyes, I accepted the Face Time request.

“Hey, handsome,” I said, sounding as tired as I felt.

“Shit. Did I wake you, Luce?” His forehead creased, but his mouth stayed formed in a smile.

“If you’d waited another thirty seconds you would have,” I said, shifting onto my elbows. “It was one hell of a day.”

“Good or bad hell of a day?”

“Pretty great really. Just busy. And exhausting,” I said. “Even better now that I get to end it with you.” I took him in, letting myself soak up as much of Jude as I could through the phone. This was all I got for another twenty-four hours. He was back in his hotel after finally coming to his senses that we didn’t need a ten-thousand-square-foot home for our first one. Jude was sitting up in bed, and he was shirtless.

Had I really been tired less than a minute ago? It didn’t seem possible with the way my blood was pumping through my veins right now.

“So . . .” he began, his smile twisting, “you look pretty tired, but I wanted to see if you felt like having some sweet dreams tonight.”

My inner thighs tightened. “I’m not exactly alone anymore,” I whispered, glancing back at the bedroom. “I can’t have regular phone sex with you when a three-year-old’s under the roof.”

“Just be quiet,” he suggested.

I laughed out loud before catching myself. “When was the last time I was able to be quiet during . . . that?”

An eyebrow arched. “Never. But there’s a first time for everything, Luce.” He was so damn confident, I almost wanted to tell him no just out of principle. But I knew I wouldn’t. My body had already started the spiral to the top from his words alone.

“You do know if I have to attempt this whole quiet thing, I’m not going to be able to talk dirty to you. Right?” I said, skimming my fingers down my stomach. My skin was extrasensitive from anticipation.

Jude shifted in bed before holding his boxers in front of the camera. “That’s a sacrifice I’m happy to make.” And then he threw them to the side, giving me a full-monty view.

I swallowed, and then slid my hand under my leggings.

“Aunt Luce?”

I jolted, dropping the phone in the process. “LJ?! What are you doing up?” My voice was two octaves too high.

“I heard voices and wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, coming around the side of the couch sporting his Avengers pj’s.

The phone had slipped behind the sofa cushions, but I could hear Jude’s low laugh coming through it.

“I’m okay,” I said as I pulled the phone free. “I was just saying good night to Uncle Jude.” Checking the screen to make sure the view had changed, I flashed it in front of LJ.

“Uncle Jude!” His face lit up like Jude was cooler than bubble gum.

“Hey, little man. How’s it going?”

“Good, but don’t talk too loud, okay?” he asked, lifting his finger to his mouth. “Mom doesn’t know I snuck out of bed.”

“You got up to check on Aunt Luce?”

LJ nodded.

“Good job,” Jude said. “You’re the man of the house now, so I’m trusting you to take care of your mom and Aunt Luce.”

“Jude, he’s three,” I said, turning the screen toward me. He’d shrugged into a shirt faster than he could get mine off.

“I’m almost four,” LJ said proudly.

“Yeah, Luce. He’s almost four.”

“All right, man of the house,” I said, turning the screen back toward LJ. “Say good night. It’s way past your bedtime.”

“One more minute?” LJ begged.

“Yeah, one more minute?” Jude’s voice joined in.

I sighed. “Fine.”

LJ did a little dance.

“Phone five,” Jude said, as LJ high-fived the screen.

“Thanks for the football, Uncle Jude. Will you teach me to throw it one thousand yards?” It was dark, but LJ’s eyes were twinkling.

“I’ll teach you to throw it ten thousand yards.”

“Wow,” LJ replied, dumbfounded.

“I’ll take you to the park when I come visit in a couple weeks. In the meantime, practice snapping your arm back and following through on your throw.”

LJ’s eyes squinted while he stored these instructions away.

“You’ll be throwing like a pro before you know it.”

“And . . . time,” I interrupted, realizing that if I was going to be watching this kid six days a week, I’d have to get used to being a responsible adult.

LJ groaned and hung his shoulders.

“Listen to your aunt Luce, little man,” Jude said. “From one guy to another, here’s a word of advice: You’re going to have to figure out what battles are worth fighting. And this isn’t one you’ll win.”

LJ contemplated that pearl of wisdom for all of a second before nodding his head. “Okay. Good night, Uncle Jude. Good night, Aunt Luce.” He waved and started for the bedroom. “I love you.”

I turned the phone so Jude could watch him go. “Love you, little man.”

When I heard the bedroom door click shut, I spun the phone around. “That was a major crisis averted,” I teased, as his smile grew when he saw me.

“That, Luce, was a major crisis delayed,” he implied, letting those words settle.

Jude Ryder . . . hopeless optimist.

“No, Jude,” I said, propping the phone up against a stack of coasters on the coffee table. “That was a major crisis called on account of weather.”

“Luce, no way.” He groaned. “You got me all excited and now you’re giving me the airtime cock block?”

I turned onto my side, trying not to laugh. “No. I’m going to sleep,” I replied, blowing him a kiss. “Good night. Love you, Jude.”

A good minute after I’d closed my eyes, he sighed. I never knew so many emotions could reside in one sigh. “Good night. Love you, Luce.”

That night, my dreams picked up where Jude and I had let off. Ecstasy.