Money was tight, I suppose, but for most people, it is. When mom wasn’t busy falling in love with her newest fling, she was working long hours, launching her salon business. But I never held any of that against her. Until now, I guess.
Now?
Now, I don’t know what to think. Where did the lies end and the truth begin? What else is she not telling me?
Jude is driving us home from the cookout. My mother is in the backseat.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she croons dramatically. “I should have told you.”
I don’t know how to forgive her for 27 years of lies.
It’s not like my father was abusive or in jail or a goddamned serial killer. The man has three other daughters who turned out wonderful. So, how bad could he have been?
Sisters…Father…Family.
I have three sisters who lived only an hour away from me for years. Sisters I could have grown up with and been close to. Sisters who could have been my life-long friends.
But, no.
My mom never bothered to tell the truth about my other family.
“I gave you a good life. Right, baby girl? I was a good mother?” She keeps shooting half-excuses at me, and I’m not ready for it.
I massage my throbbing temples. “Not today, Mom. Just…not today.”
Jude gives a sidelong glimpse. Across the console, he drops a hand to my knee and squeezes.
Mom sniffles and drags her fist across her red nose. “When you’re ready, I’ll answer all your questions. I promise, Iris. I owe you that.”
The only response I’m willing to give her is a shake of my head. I have so many questions for my mother. Even if I were willing to talk to her right now, I wouldn’t know where to start. And I’m not even sure how to trust her at the moment.
Sisters…Father…Family…
The air in the car is painfully tense, but I barely remember the drive. One moment, Jude is dropping my mom off at her house and walking her to her door, and the next, he’s pulling his car into my driveway across town.
Jude comes around the car and opens my door. With his hand low on my back, he leads me into the house. He steers me into my bathroom and turns on the water. The last thing I want is a shower. I want to curl up in my bed and stay there forever. But all arguments die on my lips. I’m too spent to protest.
I stare at his beautiful face, his ticking jaw as he focuses solely on the task of removing each piece of my clothing from my depleted body. Then his own clothes hit the floor.
I have never been so grateful to another human. If he weren’t here right now, I don’t know what I would do. Probably pass out face down in my bed and not crawl out for 48 hours.
He guides me into the shower, following close behind me. My mind is not functioning like it should, and it takes every last bit of strength to just put one foot in front of the other.
Jude is the only thing that makes sense right now. His smell, his touch, his giant, yet calming presence. With him here, I feel safe to move forward without thinking. Because I trust that he won’t let me fall.
I drop against the glass shower stall. My eyelids close. Jude slowly and sweetly lathers my body and my hair. He takes his time. His hands are perfection massaging bubbles into my arms and legs. He’s careful to not miss a single inch. I’m struggling not to melt.
Once he’s washed the suds away, he turns me to face the tiled wall. His lips coming down the side of my neck, across my bare shoulder, and I make a needy embarrassing sound.
It feels too good. How can he make me feel so good? Even in the middle of all this bad?
He squeezes my heavy breasts, circles my taut nipples with his soapy fingertips.
“Oh god, Jude…” Eyes shut against the spray of the water, my head falls back against his solid chest.
His lips touch my ear. “Shhh, baby. Shhh. Just feel good. Let it feel good.”
This man’s solid embrace feels like the only safe place in this cruel world.
I want to stay cradled in his arms like this forever.
38
Jude
Soft music. Body oils. Candles.
I’m burning incense, y’all. Why the fuck not? There’s a first time for everything.
And I can say with utmost certainty that this is the first time I’ve ever painted a woman’s nails. I’m perched at the end of Iris’s bed, with her tiny perfect feet in my lap. I’m brushing fire-engine red onto her delicate toes. I knew this color would look fucking sexy on her. Red brings out the vixen in Iris that’s hidden beneath those layers of innocent sweetness.
My teammates thought they were playing a prank on me when they packed that nail polish at the bottom of my bag. Well, joke’s on them because tonight I’ve got all the fancy shit I need to take care of this woman. And then, I’m going to fuck her into the wee hours of the morning.
Iris’s naked body is tangled up in silk sheets, propped up on a mountain of pillows and throw cushions. I live for the contented look on her face as she stares down at me through the creepy eye-holes of that weird gel face mask.
“All done,” I announce, screwing the wand back into the bottle. “Gotta warn you, though—it doesn’t look great.”
With a soft smile, Iris lifts onto her elbows and peels off the mask. She cranes her neck to get a peek at her feet. She wiggles her toes around and laughs softly. “You didn’t do too bad for your first go at it.”
My brows jerk up in
