Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Casey laughs. “Standard Rhys. What’s he done now?”
“Got himself a sex tape situation.” Jude shakes his head.
I baulk, and Casey laughs. “Fucking hell. Are you surprised?”
“He was in Dublin, so I flew over on Monday for a few days. Tried to figure it out with his PR team.”
His PR team? What does he do? “And did you?” Casey asks.
“They’re slapping injunctions left and right. Rhys is rebelling. I stuck around for a few days, but I can’t deal with his dramas right now.” He casts me a sideways look that I read into and don’t like. He can’t deal with his brother’s drama because he has his own to deal with. Brilliant. So that’s where Jude was? In Dublin trying to sort out his brother? “He’ll call me when he’s thinking straight. Always does.”
“Well.” Casey faces me and bows. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Amelia.”
“You too.”
He comes at me and kisses my cheeks. “Don’t let my big brother ruin you.”
“Fuck off, Casey,” Jude breathes, reclaiming me and pulling me into his side protectively.
I don’t want to ruin this.
I have so many questions. But topping the pile: Does Casey know about Katherine?
Casey leaves, having one last look over his shoulder before rounding the corner out of the bar.
“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with your brother.” I have more questions on that, naturally, but my head is kind of busy trying to figure out what’s going on with Jude.
“Don’t be. I’m always dealing with his shit.” He turns me into him. “How are you feeling?”
She’s brilliant.
I’m fucked.
What have you got yourself into, Jude?
“Good,” I say, smiling. It’s a lie. I’m feeling apprehensive, my questions returning and multiplying.
Jude hunkers down to get to eye level with me, frowning. “You sure?”
I nod, smile wider. I don’t know if he’s buying it, and the small tilt of his head in question confirms it. “Feeling a little jaded.”
“Can I interest you in a Hey Jude?”
My cheeks balloon, bile rising, mixing with the other sickly feeling I’ve got going on in my tummy. Something just feels . . . off.
“Maybe some fresh air,” he suggests, holding his hand out to me. Taking it is natural. “Come on.”
Jude walks us out the back of Arlington Hall past the Kitchen Garden, quiet, as I try to fight back the unease. He constantly smiles down at my heels on the uneven ground. “Did you have a nice evening before you lost all memory of it?” he asks.
Now’s my opportunity to tell him about Katherine. Except I bail. What good will come of it? “It was lovely.” Until your ex-lover showed up.
“Where did you go?”
“Amazonico. It’s our favourite.” I will the atmosphere to fuck off, the small talk just not cutting it.
“Okay,” he says on an exasperated sigh, stopping at the entrance to the maze and facing me. “There’s something up. What’s going on?”
Tell him you heard him! “Nothing.” I smile, making sure this one is convincing as I reach for his lips, kissing him. “Like I said, just jaded.” My phone starts ringing, and Nick couldn’t have made his timing any worse. His name glows on the screen, and the atmosphere drops from cold to icy.
“Want to get that?” Jude asks, a certain edge of impatience to his tone.
I look at him tiredly. “Do you think I do?”
“You tell me.”
“Oh my God, are we about to have another disagreement, because I don’t think I’ve got the energy for you at the moment.” I hit reject with a forceful thumb, watching as Jude’s chest begins to pulse from where he’s trying in vain to maintain steady breathing.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to fix your passive-aggressive possessiveness,” I snap, turning on my heels and walking away across the lawn, my stupid damn heels sinking in, forcing me to stop and remove them.
“Did you see him last night?” Jude grates.
“No, Jude, I did not see him last night.” I start to walk on, but stop, whirling around and pointing one of my shoes at him. “I saw Katherine, actually,” I declare. He recoils. “I saw her at the restaurant, and she made a point of saying hello, if you know what I mean.” The sarcasm in my smile is potent. “And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want us to argue again. What the hell was she doing in London?”
He exhales tiredly, rubbing his temples. “She lives closer to London than Oxford.”
I would ask why on earth she travels to Arlington Hall to work out, dine, and drink, but that would be a really stupid question. My phone starts ringing again. “Fuck off!” I yell at it, trudging off in no particular direction. “Don’t follow me,” I snap back at him, reaching for my head and rubbing. I’m too hungover for this bullshit.
His huff of disbelief smacks me in the back only a second before his body. A strong arm circles my waist from behind, he lifts me from my feet, and I sag in his hold, exhausted by us. Fight. Make up. Over and over.