Jude’s eyes rounded. “You’ve indulged him?”
“For years. Mostly, I just did what I wanted to do and then made him think it was his idea from the start. Like law school.”
“You indulged him,” he repeated slowly.
She smoothed her fingers over the frown lines that had appeared in his forehead. “Yes, of course. Did you really think I’d let him dictate my every move? C’mon, Jude, you know me better than that.”
“Well, shit.”
“What?”
He shook his head. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you that for weeks.”
“No, I’ve been one for much longer. I—”
A phone rang. Libby had forgotten she’d slipped his cell into her shorts pocket before coming out to face Kenneth. She grabbed it, checked the screen, then held it up to him. “Your brothers.”
“Yeah, I should take that.” He removed the phone from her hand, but hesitated. “Uh, Libby…”
“Hm?”
His mouth worked as if he was struggling to find the words he wanted to say. Finally, he just shook his head again, turned away, and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, Cam.”
She watched him walk away, frowning a little herself. What was that all about?
…
That afternoon, the skies opened up, and rain fell in sheets, splashing into the pool and sounding like bullets against on the tin roof of the portico. Thunder rumbled, long and low. Lightning flickered over the tops of the palms.
Libby curled up in the wicker love seat and basked in the warmth of the blaze Jude had started in a slate and marble fire bowl. The rain was so loud that she could barely hear the crackle of the flames, but she enjoyed the storm. It seemed like a fitting end to a day that had included multiple interviews with the police followed by another go-round with her father about her relationship with Jude. He’d said it was dangerous, reminded her of the wreck she’d been after Jude left last time.
But that was then. They were both different people now, and she could admit to herself that she wanted to see what would happen between them. Maybe it wouldn’t last when they left Key West and returned to D.C., but she wouldn’t know unless she took this chance. And she wouldn’t be able to get on with her life until she knew for sure.
Jude appeared in the doorway, two mugs of coffee in hand. He left the French doors open, and music carrying the sounds of the tropics drifted out. “Did I miss anything?”
“Saw some lightning.” She curled her legs up to her chest to make room for him.
“Bolt or flash?”
“Flash.”
“Mm.” He sat, handed her one of the mugs, and slung an arm along the back of the seat as he sipped from his own.
They watched the storm for a long time in silence, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair, her toes tucked underneath his thigh for warmth. The music, the rain, the fire… It was so perfect she didn’t want to ruin it with more conversation, but it was time. She had questions for him, ones that had waited too many years for answers.
Sitting up, she set her empty mug on a side table and turned to face him. After a moment, he met her gaze. Gave one nod, finished off what was left of his coffee, and set his mug down beside hers.
“You know what I want to say,” she started.
“Yeah, got an idea.”
“Will you give me a direct answer?”
He hesitated. “You won’t like it.”
She exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath for nearly a decade. “It can’t be any worse than wondering for eight years what I did wrong.”
“Nothing.” He looked stricken and angled his body so that they sat face-to-face. “Libs, you did nothing wrong, okay? It was all me. I thought I—” He stopped short.
“Thought you could have your cake and eat it, too?” she offered. “That’s what Dad told me. He said all you young Marines were the same—it was just a part of your lifestyle. You didn’t know how to commit. I didn’t believe him, but he tried so hard to cheer me up afterward. Took me to ball games, even suffered through a Renaissance fair because he knew I liked them. He can be a jerk, but he has such a big heart, and it’s always in the right place.”
Jude’s jaw tightened. “I know.”
She waited, but he didn’t seem inclined to say more.
“Jude, it’s okay. I get it. We were so young, and we rushed everything.”
His shoulders slumped, the steel going out of his spine. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.” There was an odd hollowness to his voice and a flatness in his eyes that she decided to analyze later because she was just too damn happy that he was finally talking to her.
“I was young,” he said. “Had no impulse control.”
Working up a smile, she poked him in the side. “And you do now?”
“I’ve learned. It’s still not my greatest strength, but there are some lines that I won’t cross. That’s one of them.”