Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (22 page)

An hour and a half later, as I’m finishing up my coffee and scrolling through the morning paper on my tablet, Marta arrives. I flick my wrist to check the time.
Seven o’clock, on the dot
. I turn off my device and head to the sink just as she reaches the landing of the stairs.

“Good morning, Mr. Jude.”

“Good morning, Marta. How are you?”

“Oh, muy bien. And you?”

“I’m well,” I assure her. She enters the kitchen just as I exit, and then I remember— “Marta, I need you to make a dry cleaning run today.”

“I took the dry cleaning last week,” she reminds me kindly.

“Yes.” I nod. Back when Marta first started working for me, we managed to come up with a system in regards to my laundry. She washes linens, along with my casual wear, every week. The dry cleaning she drops off every other Monday, leaving me to pick it up the following Wednesday. However, I promised Teddy I’d return her clothes within the week—and I’m nothing if not a man of my word.

“I just need something attended to before next week’s load. If you could please drop it off today, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mr. Jude.”

“Thank you.” I’m just about to descend the stairs when the image of Teddy in my bed invades my thoughts. Up until now, I’d managed to get through my morning routine with her stowed away in the back of my mind. It is quiet apparent my reprieve has come to an end. Picturing her sleeping form tucked between my sheets makes me wonder when I’ll have the pleasure of her body warming the space next to mine again?

“Marta?” I call out, turning to face her once more. “Don’t change the sheets.”

“You stripped them already?”

“No,” I mutter, shoving my fists into my pockets. She lifts her eyebrows as she hums her surprise. I know that I would usually offer her some type of explanation, but this morning—I can’t give her one. My request sounds odd even to me. “It’s simply not necessary.”

“Okay,” she says with a curious smile.

“Have a good day.”

“You too, Mr. Jude.”

It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m just getting ready to head out for lunch when a man walks into the gallery. I stop and look back at Geoffrey, who is busy with a potential buyer. He must feel my eyes on him, or maybe he’s just curious to know who has entered the building, because he looks in my direction. He smiles and winks at me when he catches on that the man who came in is carrying a delivery especially for me. A little laugh gives voice to the giddy feeling in my chest, and I try and calm down as the man approaches.

“Delivery for Miss Fitzpatrick,” he announces.

“That’s me,” I assure him, reaching for the white dress and pink blazer wrapped in a dry cleaning bag. He then hands me a little white bag with ribbon handles.

“If you could please sign, verifying that you received your parcels.” I drape my clothes over one arm, taking the pen he holds out to me before signing on the sheet next to my name. “He also wanted you to know that there’s a note inside the white bag.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Have a good day, Miss Fitzpatrick.”

As he turns to leave, I head behind the reception desk, folding my clothes over the back of my chair. I sit, anxious to find out what message Judah has left me this time. When I open the bag, I find my delicates inside, along with the note that was promised. I try not to think about the fact that Judah had my underwear cleaned for me as I set aside the bag and open the small envelope. Pulling out the card, my eyes immediately focus on his neat, masculine script etched across the paper.

I feel myself grow flush from head to toe. Only, it’s not embarrassment I feel. Instead, my mind is busy imaging exactly what that might feel like—his hands on my naked skin.

I shake my head, needing to rid my mind of the thought. Kissing Judah is one thing. Letting him feel me up over his t-shirt is another thing. But letting him strip me bare? That is not something I’m anywhere
near
ready to handle. I know it’s what he wants. Since the moment we met, he’s made that perfectly clear. However, he also said that he was a man who would respect my boundaries, and
that
is one of them.

Though, I must admit, there’s something about him—something about how I feel when I’m with him—it makes the idea of sex not so daunting as it usually is.

He stirred something awake in me last Friday. While I’m not ready to jump in bed with him, I like the way he makes me feel. I haven’t had that in so long. Plus, after the way he took care of me like such a gentleman, I’ve convinced myself that I can take his words to heart—not just that he will respect my boundaries, but that he won’t manipulate his way between my legs. He might be a bit of an arrogant asshole who thinks that I’ll surrender to him on my own accord, but I’m not afraid that when I prove to be stronger than he thinks, that he’ll take what he wants without my permission.

Sex has always been one of the biggest reasons why I haven’t really felt comfortable dating. That and trust. You can’t have any sort of romantic relationship with someone, casual or otherwise, without addressing both of those things. But with Judah, it all feels
different
. Geoff read right through me when he called me out, giving voice to the fact that it isn’t
Judah
I don’t trust so much as
myself
. It’s unusual for me to feel that way, and yet I think it’s part of the reason why I feel bold enough to entertain whatever it is that’s going on between the two of us. Then there’s the fact that we’ve never actually danced around the topic of sex. Judah’s forward nature has shifted the dynamic of what I can expect moving forward. With everything laid out on the table—his expectations as well as mine—I don’t have to worry about the part of dating that has always kept me hesitant.

Needless to say, I’ve given this a lot of thought for the last few days. Now, after almost three weeks, I’m starting to embrace the excitement that he makes me feel. At night, when I’m lying in bed trying to fall asleep, I still find myself wondering what it is that he sees in me? I would have to be an idiot not to have a keen interest in him—given that he’s not only extremely attractive, but also notably successful, brilliantly talented at what he does, and so unapologetically
Judah
that he turns heads just by entering a room with all of that sexy confidence.

And his kiss…damn, the man can kiss.

Again, I shake my head clear before I toss his note back in the bag and gather my delivery to take to my car before heading out to grab my lunch. As soon as my hands are free, I pull out my phone to send him a quick text.

Me:
Thank you for returning my clothes, and in far better condition than I left them.

After I hit
send
, I drop my phone in my purse, not expecting to hear back right away. Then, before I walk two steps, I hear the chirp of a text alert. I dig for my device and smile when I see his name light up my screen.

Judah:
You’re welcome. Can I expect that I’ll be receiving my clothing back, as well?

My smile stretches into a grin as I think of what to say in response. I find his question both amusing and incredibly valid. The thought did cross my mind to sleep in his t-shirt until it no longer smelled like him—but then I decided that would be just a little creepy. I washed what he allowed me to borrow with a load of laundry yesterday.

Me:
Your clothing is clean, folded, and ready to be returned to its rightful owner. Though, we don’t all have means to errand boys, like yourself. I’ll bring them with me when I see you again.

Judah:
Friday night, then.

Me:
Friday? Are you asking me out right now?

Judah:
No.

I frown down at my phone, disappointed in his reply. Before I can think of a response, he sends me another message.

Judah:
I’m not asking.

Me:
Oh, no?

Judah:
Six. Tomorrow makes seven. I’ve done as you’ve asked, Theodora. Friday night, you’re mine. I won’t take no for an answer.

My grin reappears as I stop walking, suddenly too distracted to travel and text at the same time. Hearing him counting down the days until he gets to see me again makes my heart swell. In this moment, I realize just how much I’m looking forward to seeing him, too.

Me:
Then I guess my answer to your non-question is yes…

“Let’s go out tonight,” says Geoffrey as I clear away the remainder of today’s work.

I’m actually surprised by how fast the day has passed. Andy was in and out most of the morning before he spent a good chunk of the afternoon locked away in his office. Geoff tells me he’s trying to put together a small exhibition in a few months. Apparently, he was inspired when they went down to Denver last week.

“Okay,” I finally agree.

I could use something to distract myself for the evening. Tomorrow night is my date with Judah. I’m still not sure where we’re going, as he hasn’t given me any details, but I’m not worried. I’ve spent two evenings in his company now, and he hasn’t disappointed me yet. Though, a clue as to what I should wear would be nice.

“Where do you want to go?” I ask Geoffrey, deciding to worry about tonight only.

“Let’s go to The Tap Room.”

I stop what I’m doing and look at him cautiously. The bar he’s referring to is where he met Reeve. While Geoff seems to be handling his break-up a lot better these days, I’m not stupid. I know he misses him. They were together for too long for him
not
to.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he states, shaking his head at me. “I’m fine. Reeve doesn’t
own
The Tap Room. I can’t avoid my favorite places just because they remind me of him. Fuck, if I did that, I’d have nowhere to go.”

I fold my arms across my chest and stare at him, waiting to see if he’s telling me the truth. He stares right back, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. When he doesn’t have another smart-ass comment to throw my way, I decide that tonight’s invitation isn’t as carefree as he led me to believe. I don’t press the issue, knowing it would do no good, and then offer to play the role of designated driver. When he thanks me without argument, I know I’ve read him correctly.

After we lock up for the night, we each head home with plans for me to pick him up as soon as I’ve changed. Once I’ve reached my apartment, I hurry into my room and rifle through my closet for something cool to wear for the evening. I slide into a pair of distressed jeans, the ones with the holes at the knees and across both thighs. I then throw on a loose fitting, grey and white stripped tank top and slip my feet into flat, white sandals. The big, pink flower necklace I wore to work today works with what I’ve pieced together, so I leave it on. Finally, since my tank covers my whole back, I decide to pull my hair up into a ponytail. I take one final look in the mirror, to insure my makeup still looks okay, and then I grab my purse and hurry out the door.

Forty minutes later, Geoff and I walk arm in arm into The Tap Room. I’m not at all surprised to see that the place is buzzing with people. Geoff isn’t the only one who loves this place.