Hurricane Reese Page 10

  Reese turned over, buried his face in Jude’s belly, and grunted when he bumped his nose. He brought his hand up and rested it on Jude’s hip. Then he sighed happily and began to snore in earnest. Jude was trapped—in more ways than one. But for the moment, he’d let himself enjoy the feeling of being in Reese’s space—no longer being just the help, but maybe, truly, a part of their little family.

  Although family to Reese and Mr. Matheson was much different from what Jude was used to. Reese was right earlier when he’d said that Jude was a private man. He was. He needed to be. Reese might think Mr. Matheson would “get over” the two of them being together in any way other than friends. But Jude’s family? His father and uncle? No way. The Church said it was a sin, so it was a sin. Period. Jude didn’t think they’d go so far as to shun him or anything, but they would never accept it.

  Jude looked at his watch. It was just after midnight. He figured he should get some rest so he could care for Mr. Matheson in the morning. He didn’t want to disturb Reese, but he knew he should go to bed. He attempted to lift Reese’s head…. No luck. Reese’s long body barely fit on the old couch. His legs hung over the armrest, he’d wrapped a strong arm around Jude’s hips, which effectively held him in place. Jude could push himself up and over the back of the couch. It wouldn’t be graceful, but it would work in a pinch. He tried to angle his hip and slide out from the side, but Reese grumbled in his sleep and tightened his grip.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Reese asked in a slurred voice.

  Reese used some wrestling move, some maneuver—something—and Jude found himself pinned under Reese’s greater weight. Jude’s head was spinning a bit from the alcohol. Or maybe it was just Reese.

  Reese smiled down at him, but his eyes were unfocused. It was enough to let Jude know that Reese was in the “lost inhibitions” stage of drunkenness.

  “Reese, let me up. You need to slee—”

  Before he could get out that last p, Reese’s tongue plunged into his mouth in a sloppy but determined kiss. It wasn’t like before—hot and possessive and lustful and genuine. This one smacked of hookup. Reese grabbed a fistful of Jude’s hair and kissed him hard, using his pelvis to pin Jude in place. He reached clumsily down to Jude’s pants and tugged on the button. Jude froze. He didn’t want Reese like that. He wanted Reese to know exactly who he was with and why.

  Jude pushed Reese’s hand away, but it was back a second later. It took effort to get in a breath in order to speak. “Reese, let me go,” Jude said quietly, and he hoped Reese wouldn’t take it as a rejection of anything other than drunken sex. It took two more tries—his voice was firmer on the last one—and then Reese pulled back, stunned.

  “Jude, I… I’m sorry.” He hurriedly pushed up and off of Jude’s body with a look of horror on his face. “I never meant to—”

  “It’s done. Let me up and go back to sleep. No harm done.”

  Reese’s lids were still so heavy that Jude knew he’d be back asleep before his head hit the pillow. Pillow! He looked around and found a stack of pillows and blankets on a shelf by the washer and dryer. He grabbed them and was back to the couch in an instant. Jude made sure he was propped up enough that, if he got sick, he wouldn’t….

  Well, now he was worried. He had two Matheson men to be concerned about. Reese snuggled into the pillow, and Jude covered him with a blanket. But he had to get out of there before he curled up next to him.

  “I’m sorry, Jude. I’m sorry,” Reese mumbled in his sleep, and then he fell to snoring again. Jude’s heart beat out of control. Things had almost just gotten critical. He had to be more careful. Reese had little to no impulse control, and while it excited Jude, he knew they had to be cautious. There was a lot at stake—namely one Thomas Matheson, who was depending on the two of them to care for him.

  Jude entered the kitchen and cleaned up the last few dishes left over from the day. He swept through the living room, righted a few things that had fallen over, and took a few moments to dust the pictures on the wall. They were photos of Thomas and his wife, Ruby. She’d had the most beautiful red hair, according to Thomas, and he adored her fiery spirit. They would have been married for sixty years this year. Instead she went quietly in the night a year before Jude came into the picture.

  Thomas kept his grief to himself most of the time, but Jude had seen him stroke her face in the pictures and become wistful, even teary. Then he’d sit down at his piano and play songs that he admitted he’d written about her.

  Seeing such a romantic love played out in front of him made Jude wonder. Sure, his parents loved each other, but their marriage was practically arranged when they were young. They both came to the United States as preteens, and their families were close. His father described his mother as a beautiful flower that he’d been attracted to like a bee looking for pollen. His father thought he was so poetic, when it just sounded creepy to Jude.

  His mother had loved to dance, and her children inherited her poise and grace. As long as he and his younger siblings kept up their grades, their father didn’t care what they did and never questioned Jude’s desire to dance and perform in the color guard. Jude didn’t think his father actually understood him. He was always too busy working as a real estate agent to come to any of his performances.

  His mother was always there. She worked for their family business, but she made it clear to his dad that she wouldn’t miss a single one of his shows. Jude was grateful that his mother was so supportive of him, but it gave him even more of a reason to fear hurting her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  REESE GROANED as he woke on the sofa in the garage. He was completely disoriented. Was he back in college? Whose house had he crashed at? What time was it?

  Jude.

  Oh God, what have I done? Vague memories surfaced from the night before, almost as though he were recalling a dream rather than reality. He’d had Jude under him. He’d tried to undress him. He’d mauled the poor guy. How could Jude ever forgive him for that? He’d leave for sure, and Reese wouldn’t blame him. He’d sworn to himself that he’d let Jude come to him—and then Jägermeister. And cigars. And singing. Did he really sing Frank tunes? “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” rang in his head. It was true, so very true. Jude was a sensation that Reese never wanted to go without. And then he’d tackled Jude and gone all porn star on him.

  He tried to sit up, but his head spun wildly. He was so hungover. What he wouldn’t give for a do-over.

  “Good morning,” Jude said with a smile as he glided into the room with a breakfast tray. He set it down on the coffee table and sat a cushion away from Reese. “I brought the best hangover cure I could whip up.”

  The tray contained a plate of fried eggs over easy, some hash browns, and what looked like ham, but was probably—

  “It’s Spam. It’s fatty and will help protect your stomach from any remaining alcohol your body might be trying to digest. Some black coffee, some juice with vitamin C. I could give you ibuprofen, but I’d rather wait to see how you feel after this.”

  Reese held his head in his hands and fought the urge to groan. At first inhale the food smelled heavenly. Then his stomach lurched. No. He wouldn’t throw up. He’d man up. And in what alternate universe was Jude speaking to him, much less waiting on him?

  “I am such a bastard. I can’t believe you’re speaking to me at all.”

  He gathered up the courage to chance a glance at Jude and found him smiling in an “I-told-you-so” kind of way.

  “I wouldn’t call you a bastard. Perhaps a sloppy drunk? You definitely kiss better when you’re sober.”

  Whatever expression Reese’s face decided to make, Jude burst out laughing. Reese stood, only wobbling slightly, and stumbled across the room toward the kitchen.

  “Aw, was it something I said? Reese-y poo can’t handle a widdle teasing?”

  Reese jerked around to stare at Jude in disbelief.

  “Reese-y poo? Really? I thought that you’d be pissed at me. I’
m so sorry for the way I acted, Jude. That’s never how I want to treat you.”

  “I should hope not,” Jude said as he moved toward him. He sniffed a little as he got closer. “That black licorice smell is much worse this morning. You should shower. I had Kyla bring a chair for Mr. Matheson. You should probably use it.” He bit his lip, pushed into the house, and left Reese dumbfounded in his wake. What was going on?

  Reese trudged into the house and only grunted at his grandfather as he made his way to the bathroom to unload and clean up the disaster zone he was currently inhabiting. Sure enough the shower chair was already set up in the stall. Jude. That sonofabitch was enjoying this. Reese deserved it, but turnabout was fair play.

  He showered quickly, cursing at the seat in his way, and toweled off haphazardly. He looked at himself in the mirror while he brushed his teeth and saw a haggard sight. Reese never needed to work at his good looks. He didn’t make a big deal of them either. But today he saw dark circles, almost like black eyes, and stubble in patches that covered the bottom half of his face. His once-healthy hair looked dead around the edges. He hadn’t waxed his chest in a long time. It wasn’t convenient in London, and since he’d been back, there’d been Grandpa. Oh, he’d love to explain that one to the old man. “Yeah, Grandpa. I let an Asian woman smear wax on my chest and rip it off, just to feel nice and smooth. I also shave my balls. How about that?”

  “Uh, Reese?”

  Jesus! He needed to remember there were no more private moments in this place.

  He stuck his head out the door and grinned sheepishly at Jude.

  “You’re probably wondering—”

  “Nope. Not at all. Didn’t hear a thing. Look, I have to be at the school this afternoon, and then I have class tonight. Do you want me to run to the store? Cook you guys dinner before I go?”

  Reese didn’t let the smile leave his face. He sure smiled a lot more around Jude—maybe enough for both of them, although he could tell Jude had to fight to keep from returning the smile.

  “What I want,” Reese began, and his heart skipped a beat as he decided to put it all out there. “What I want is to take you out for some pampering… or dancing. Just out for a tiny little bit.” He didn’t want to look disappointed when Jude brushed him off, so he took that possibility into account. “But I bet you’d never come with me. I really don’t think you know how to have any fun.”

  Jude raised both eyebrows, and his mouth fell open. “Are you serious? You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

  “I know you don’t know how to have fun. Put it this way—you wouldn’t know fun if it bit you right on the nose.”

  Jude crossed his arms and then peeked over his shoulder to be sure Grandpa wasn’t listening. When he turned back, he lowered his voice to such a deep register that it gave Reese goose bumps. “I’ll go out with you. Let me rephrase. I’ll take you out. You have to trust me to pick the place. And you have to make arrangements for your grandfather.”

  Reese’s mouth watered as he thought of what the two of them could get up to away from home.

  “Deal.”

  “Tonight. Nine. Be ready to go.”

  Reese couldn’t believe his luck. Maybe he hadn’t screwed up as badly as he thought.

  “Oh, and surfer chic isn’t really acceptable, so wear something nice.” Jude raised an eyebrow again and returned to the living room. Reese closed the bathroom door and looked back in the mirror. Despite his aforementioned issues, he felt good. The fog of the hangover lifted as his fantasies about a night out with Jude took over.

  AS JUDE pulled away from the Mathesons’, he mentally kicked himself for allowing Reese to rope him into his ridiculous plan. What business did he have going out on a date with Reese? And where in the world could he take him? But during his freak-out, he hadn’t stopped smiling.

  He needed to let go of the guilt he felt over leaving Mr. Matheson for the night, that is, if Reese actually found someone to stay with him. Maybe he wouldn’t and it would all be a moot point.

  But what if…? Dancing. That’s what they should do. Jude’s friends had a place just outside of town that they went to on Thursday nights. People would know him, but they could avoid a ton of publicity because people at Incognito were good about protecting their own. Would Reese consider himself one of them? They hadn’t talked about it. Jude assumed Reese was bi, but who knew how far that went? Curious? Established? The man could sure kiss. That much was confirmed.

  Jude arrived at the high school before the kids came down to the field. He took the time to stretch thoroughly and wished he could fit dance classes into his schedule. He missed it. Having a tie to his siblings and to dance kept him satisfied for the moment. But there was no way to know how long he would be at his assignment.

  Mr. Matheson was far more than a job. If Jude had his way, Mr. Matheson would never see the inside of a nursing home. In his culture grandparents were never sent away. Families took care of their own, and Jude was committed to caring for him as long as Reese allowed. He just didn’t want any sort of intimacy between him and Reese to interfere. But he also didn’t want Reese to get overwhelmed and listen to doctors who might advise him to put Mr. Matheson in a home.

  The kids arrived, and Jude put them to work. He’d choreographed very difficult formations for their routine because this group had the talent to handle it. Like some sort of mad scientist, he loved watching his creation come to life before his eyes. He watched Brianna lead her group in an emotional, lyrical piece, and he spotted Bailey, across the field, struggling with his part of the formation. Bailey was stuck behind two girls who had very little coordination, but they were hard workers, and Jude had been able to camouflage them… to a point. When the group finished the program, Jude called Bailey over.

  “You’re doing great. Carrie and Donna will get it eventually.”

  Bailey shrugged his shoulders and lifted up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. He wouldn’t make eye contact, and Jude didn’t blame him.

  “Listen. I heard about Junior moving in with you guys. I promise—”

  “Just forget it,” Bailey muttered. “It’s not your fault Mom and Dad left us.”

  Jude’s chest tightened. He could see why Bailey would feel that way.

  “Bail, they didn’t want to leave you guys, but they knew you’d get a better education here than in the Philippines. You have to know that.”

  Bailey nodded and chewed on a fingernail. “I know that. I just miss them.”

  Jude pulled his brother in for a hug and prayed he’d respond and not just stiffen. Bailey relaxed against him and tentatively touched Jude’s back.

  “My hours have eased up a bit. I’ll have some more time. Can I come and take you and Brianna out this weekend, maybe?”

  Bailey glanced over at his older sister. “She’s going on a group date with some of her friends. Tito Rommel only let her go because there are more girls than guys going.”

  “And why aren’t you going?” Jude worried about his brother and the amount of time he spent alone. The kid never smiled anymore. He’d always been quiet and let Brianna talk for him, but he never seemed depressed until recently. Their parents had been gone for two years and usually only came back one at a time, once a year, for a few weeks. This year they were both due back for the holidays, though, which should help. Jude just wished he could do something more.

  “Because Brianna’s friends are annoying, and the guys going are total douches.”

  “Douches? What gives them such a dubious distinction?”

  Bailey sighed. “They’re just fuckboys from the soccer team. I don’t even know why she hangs out with them. She likes Troy and thinks he’s ‘different than the other guys.’ She won’t listen to me when I tell her he’s a fuckboy.”

  Jude had really missed out on so much with them both. Since Reese was back and living with Mr. Matheson, Jude could negotiate more time off to spend with his brother and sister.

  “Well how about I pick you up this
weekend, and we’ll go hang. You need anything? Clothes or shoes?”

  Bailey shook his head. “No. I’m fine.”

  Jude knew he wasn’t fine. But their break was over. It was time to get the kids back to work for another half hour, and then he needed to get to class. If he wasn’t mistaken, Bailey had pushed himself a little harder in the last go around. Jude was determined to be there for him. He was pretty sure his siblings were straight, but he wondered about Bailey sometimes.

  Class felt like it dragged on that night, and Jude was more distracted than ever. He should have been listening to his anatomy professor. Instead he thought back to the night before and how much fun he and Reese had—even the drunken kiss. Wow. Sometimes Jude cursed himself for how much he tried to do right. He could have had Reese in many different ways, but he was determined not to take advantage of the inebriated. And Jude still wasn’t quite sure what to do with Reese’s sexuality. He came on strong, and he kissed like he’d been down that road before, but had he? Just what expectations did the pretty white boy have?

  Chapter Sixteen

  JUDE DROVE too fast on his way back to the cottage, and he was way more excited than he had any right to be. He parked, grabbed his nicer clothes from the back seat, and ran up the front steps. Then he stopped in his tracks, suddenly unsure of himself. When Jude opened the door, Reese was laughing at something Kyla said, but he quickly turned very mischievous eyes on Jude. The man on the couch was not the same one he’d left that morning.

  “Kyla agreed to stay with Grandpa tonight. He went to bed early.”

  Reese stood from the couch. He was wearing a pair of charcoal gray slacks and a pale-blue button-down that really showed off his tan. He’d shaved and probably had a facial. And he’d removed the Steri-Strips from his nose, which left behind an angry cut, but it looked like it was healing fine. The rest of his skin glowed.