“I needed some air.” As if that excuse wasn’t transparent as fuck. Annoyed with himself, the situation—every-damn-thing—he stalked past her, intending to grab a beer from the kitchen.
She caught his arm. “Dad won’t be happy about you trying to leave when he’s paying you to guard me.”
He ground his teeth. “He’s not here, and you can’t contact him so, tell me, how’s he going to find out if I go for a walk?”
“Jesus. You have got to be the worst bodyguard in the history of the profession.”
“I never claimed to be good at this. Hell, I never wanted this job in the first place. Greer forced me into it, told me I had to face my mistakes or some shit. Well, fuck that. There’s a reason I never look back—and you’re it. I never wanted to see you again. You drive me nuts with all of your questions and protests and fucking logic. You’re so uptight, you wouldn’t know a good time if it whacked you on the ass.”
Libby flinched and dropped her hand from his arm. He thought he should feel like an asshole, and probably would later after he cooled off, but right now, his anger ran too hot.
Apparently, so did Libby’s, because after her initial shock wore off, she struck back. “You think you’re so great to live with? At least I act my age. You’re like a spoiled child. You can’t sit still for more than a minute, and you mope around here like you lost your puppy! Life’s not all fun and games. Seriously, Jude, grow the hell up.”
Grow up? He glowered at her back as she turned on her heel and marched away with her chin held high. First Reece, and now her. Christ, he was fucking sick of people telling him that. So he liked to cut loose, have fun. Did it really make him such a horrible person because he lived it up every chance he got?
No. He didn’t think so. He worked hard when work beckoned. He just played harder. Nothing wrong with that.
If anything, Libby was in the wrong here. Too uptight, too practical, too logical. Outside the bedroom, she had no concept of fun as far as he could tell, which was a damn shame because the girl he remembered knew how to have good time whenever, wherever, and however she could. She’d been shy, but adventurous and vivacious once he knocked down all of her self-containing walls, and he couldn’t assimilate the Libby of today with the Libby of yesterday. They were two completely different people.
And he’d made her this way.
Every ounce of irritation in Jude drained away at that sobering thought. He’d lost his shit after their split, diving headlong into his burn all bridges and take no prisoners approach to life, but Libby must have done the opposite, withdrawing further into herself and throwing all of her energy into earning her law degree.
Damn. He’d destroyed her confidence, smothered that spark he’d once found so attractive. At this point, any kind of forgiveness or reconciliation was a pipe dream, but he could give her some of her old self back. It’d be a helluva challenge, but she deserved it.
He drifted toward the patio doors and peeked outside. She’d gone back to her book in one of the loungers by the pool.
Perfect.
Backing up, he edged out the front door and stopped on the porch to scan the garden. Didn’t take long to find what he was looking for: a large, deep pink bloom that all but sparkled with life and color—exactly like the Libby he remembered. He leaned over the railing and plucked it from its plant, tested its scent. Sweet, also like Libby.
Yes, he thought, twirling the stem between his fingers as he walked back into the house. This definitely might take a while.
Good thing he had nothing but time on his hands.
Chapter Nine
Libby heard a splash and lowered her book. It was too small of a sound to have been Jude jumping in for a swim, and a sharp spike of worry made her set her book aside.
“Sam?”
Not that Sam would voluntarily go anywhere near the water’s edge. In typical feline fashion, he hated being wet, but there was always a chance he could’ve fallen in…
Nope, he still lay curled up at her feet, dozing contentedly in the sun. He lifted his head at the sound of his name and blinked his big green eyes as if to say, “Yes?”
She scratched under his chin. “Nothing, kitty cat. Go back to sleep.”
So what had made the splash? She scanned the pool’s surface and saw nothing. Okay, maybe she imagined it. It was more than possible. She’d been so absorbed in her book that she didn’t even realize how late it was getting. The sun had been high in the sky when she came out here to get away from Jude, but now slanted across the patio at a stark angle, casting shadows over the pool.