Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (46 page)

I think about calling Geoff to see if he can help talk me down and offer me some advice. I’m quick to change my mind, thinking that Harper would be best. She
is
a woman, after all. Then I remember that her boyfriend is my boyfriend’s brother—my boyfriend’s brother that she tells
everything
to. While I trust that she wouldn’t go into details about the extent of my insecurities, it wouldn’t surprise me if she told him I was finally ready to take the next step in our relationship. But then, when I reconsider Geoff, I realize that he’d be way more over-protective than my sister. With a groan, I just decide to stop arguing with myself and try to get a hold of Harper.

The phone rings five times before she finally answers. I sigh in relief when I hear her voice.

“Hey, sis.”

“Hey, Harp. Do you have a minute?”

“For you? I have several. Your timing is perfect. I’m just leaving yoga. What’s up?”

“Um…” Even just
thinking
about what I want to share with her makes my stomach knot up, and I can feel it as my cheeks burn red in embarrassment. I seal my eyes closed tight, clapping my free hand over them, wondering why I’m being such a freak about this whole thing.

“Come on, Teddy,” she says with little laugh. “Spit that shit out already. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“I got the okay from the doctor to have sex with Judah, as long as we use a condom, so we’re going to. Tonight. I mean, it’s not like we scheduled it or anything, but he’s taking me to dinner and then I’m staying at his place—because he hates my bed. Anyway, the sex part is implied, but it’s for sure going to happen. I’m just really nervous because, well, you know—and what if I suck at it? What if he hates the way I look naked? Shit—what if my back tattoo is a total turn off? Fuck—I’m so nervous, Harper. He’s so sexy. Like, my goodness, he really shouldn’t be allowed to walk around with all that sex appeal. Seriously. And I’m just me—I’m just Teddy. And what if I’m a disappointment? What if he dumps me in the morning? What if—”

“Whoa, honey—slow the fuck down. Take a breath. And do I hear tears in your voice? Because you
are not
allowed to cry right now. Not over this.”

I do as she says, breathing in deeply and exhaling loudly. I do it again, and then she continues.

“First—let’s think logically, shall we? You’re right about one thing. Jude has a hot bod. That’s, like,
fact
. What you also need to consider is, that
hot bod
can get
any
woman he wants—and he wants
you
. I think that makes you pretty badass, babe. And this is me thinking
logically
, not like the loving sister that I am.”

“Eh,” I hum, not convinced. “Go on.”

“Okay, second—nerves are normal. The first time Ben and I had sex, I was totally nervous. I have cellulite on my ass, for crying out loud. I was terrified. But Ben was wonderful. He made me feel beautiful, which is only fitting, because I’m fabulous. And so are you, Teddy Bear. Judah knows that. Which brings me to point number three. He’s not going to dump you.”

“You don’t know that,” I argue.

“Theodora—what the fuck?” she scoffs, her patience clearly growing thin. “Did something happen that you’re not telling me about? Because, last I checked, that man
adores
you.”

I reach up and pinch my lip between my fingers, saying nothing in hopes that she’ll continue. Her reassuring words are like a soothing balm, easing the anxiety in my chest, and I need more.

“He chased after you like you were the last woman on earth. He gave up all other women for you, even before he was ready to make your relationship official. He spoiled you rotten for your birthday. And he’s spent the last couple weeks by your side as you’ve dealt with all that STI shit. If that doesn’t scream commitment, I don’t know what does.”

The nerves in my stomach die down a bit, making room for the butterflies that fill it when I think of Judah and how wonderful he’s been. Harper doesn’t even know the half of it. He’s sweeter than he appears; sweeter than he’ll admit, even—but sweet, just the same. It’s one of the things that I love about him, and there are so many things that I love about him.

Love
.

“Oh, my god,” I breathe, a new awareness washing over me.

“What? What happened? What’d I miss now?”

“I think…” I stop, knowing that if I say the words out loud, I won’t be able to take them back. Instead, I
think
the words—trying them on for size.

I love him
.

I’m in love with him.

I—Theodora Rose Fitzpatrick—am in love with Judah D. St. Michaels.

I suck in a breath, amazed by the way my heart settles into the idea. I make yet another mental note to find out what his middle name is, hoping I won’t forget again, and then I repeat the words one last time. As I do, my anxiety dissipates even more. Now, instead of fear, I feel
longing
. My nerves are certainly still present, but I’m no longer afraid of the unknown. Rather, I’m certain that if nothing else, I will have surrendered my body to the man that I love.

“Teddy? Are you still there?”

“Yeah…” I sigh, combating my grin. “I’m here.”

“What are you thinking over there?”

I open my mouth to tell her exactly what’s on my mind, but then I stop. In this moment, I decide that the first person I want to tell about my love is the man who holds my heart. I’m not sure that I’m brave enough to tell him today, but I want to hold onto the words just the same. They are for him. For us. Just like tonight will be for
us
.

“I’m okay now. I’m ready.”

“You’ve been ready, babe—since the moment you made that first doctor’s appointment, you’ve been ready. I hope with all my heart that he makes it as special as you are. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Harper.”

“Call me tomorrow?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Love you.”

I smile, thinking of Jude.

“Love you, too, Harp.”

We both hang up and I rest my phone against my chest, closing my eyes as I let images of my man fill my head.

I love him.

Holy shit—I love him.

J
udah picks me up promptly at seven before whisking me off to dinner. When we arrive at Aussie’s Steakhouse, I can’t help but laugh. As I walk in on his arm, I think back to the last time we were here, when I couldn’t get away from him fast enough. I remember how much of an asshole I thought he was; but I also remember how terrified I was of the desire I felt at his touch. Now, I can’t get close enough.

As always, he’s the perfect gentleman throughout the whole evening. He’s so calm and collected, carrying himself in such a way that reminds me that he’s
not
nervous like I am about what will happen when we head back to his place. I try not to think of all the women he’s been with before me. Instead, I remind myself that he’s chosen me. Everyday, for the last several weeks, he’s chosen me—he’s kissed
me
—he’s held
me
—he’s spoiled
me
—which is how I fell in love with him.

Being with him now only solidifies what my heart keeps whispering over and over. I am in love with Judah. He makes me happy in ways that I never anticipated. He touches me like no one ever has before, making me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt. When he looks at me, I get lost in those grey eyes, and all I want is the man who hides behind them. And he is
all
man; so much so that he practically embodies the definition. He makes me feel safe and protected—like he’d never let anything bad happen to me.

I trust him. I know that we haven’t known each other for that long, and I’m fully aware that the last man I loved had claimed he cared for me for much longer. But Judah is different. In every way, he’s different. He’s pulled me from my darkest places more than once, his strength demonstrated in his ability to be gentle and yet firm. I know that tonight, he will be good to me. He won’t hurt me. Not physically, anyway. I just hope that I can be everything that he wants, like he is everything that I want. I hope I can make him happy, that he’ll give me the chance to try. I know that it would break my heart if he didn’t—but I’m willing to take that risk. For him, I’ll give everything I’ve got to prove that I chose him.

The car ride back to his house is a silent one, and I’m grateful that he doesn’t live far away. When he pulls the Porsche into his garage, I’m so nervous, I’m trembling. If I’ve ever felt ridiculously young in comparison to him, it’s right now. I know that if I don’t do something to help lighten the mood, I’ll panic—and that’s the absolute last thing I want.

“Judah?” I murmur, wringing my hands in my lap.

“Teddy,” he responds, his deep voice making me ache with anticipation.

“Let’s play a game,” I blurt out. I’m not really sure what I’m doing at this point, but I decide to run with it.

“A game?”

“Mmmhmm,” I hum with a nod.

“Theodora, I don’t want to play a game.”

“Well—what if, at the end of this game, I’m naked?”

He chuckles, the smile that crosses his face making my panties damp.

“I’m listening.”

I try and think fast to come up with a game that will give me a moment to collect myself. Then, I get an idea. “Count to twenty before you come inside,” I instruct. “When you find me, you can have me.”

I watch as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, waiting for him to respond. I suck in a breath when he reaches for my chin, holding my face still as he leans over and presses his lips against mine in a solid kiss.

“One. Two. Three,” he begins to count, his lips still millimeters away from mine.

I giggle, pulling away from his grasp before I hurry out of his car and inside of the house. I run to the end of the narrow hallway, leading me into the entryway of his home, abandoning my oversized bag before I head for the stairs. There, I slip off my heels, placing one on one step, and the other a few steps higher. I look around the large open space of his second level as I reach for the zipper of my dress. I’m just stepping out of the material when I hear the garage door open and close. I gasp, hurrying for the spiral, metal staircase, draping my garment over the railing before I race my way back to the sitting area, crouching behind one of his armchairs.

“Ready or not, here I come,” he calls out, making me grin.

I bite my lip, stifling my giggle, feeling more carefree in this moment than I have all night. He’s playing with me, and I love it. As he begins to come up the stairs, his dress shoes against the metal steps announcing his ascent, I do my best to remain perfectly still. I listen carefully, sure that I only have a matter of seconds to run out of the room before he catches me. I get on my hands and knees, staying low behind his furniture, easing my way for the main staircase as he walks toward where I abandoned my dress.

When I decide to make a break for it, I don’t second guess myself. I stand and sprint my way out of the room, covered in only my new, sheer, teal underwear set. I know I didn’t go undetected when I hear his footfalls, more certain than before, as he follows after me. I decide to unfasten my bra, hanging it on the handle of his office door before scurrying across the hall to his bedroom—hoping to throw off his scent.

The room is dark, save the light from the moon and the faint traces of a nearby street lamp shining into his backyard. I crawl onto his bed, crossing my legs as I sit with my back to the door. Now, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, anxious for him to find me—aching for him to touch me. But first, I want him to
see
me. I want him to see all of me. I sweep my long hair over one shoulder and down my chest, leaving my back fully exposed.

This
is me, fully on display for his eyes only—and I am
his
.