Hurricane Reese Page 8

  Reese brought his hand up behind Jude’s neck, grasped firmly, and pulled his face closer. Their lips brushed together when Reese spoke.

  “It is indeed, Mr. De La Torre.”

  Jude shuddered at the sound of Reese saying his name and at the feel of their lips together. He took the initiative and pressed a nervous kiss against—

  “Reese, my boy. You bring me any of them JCPenney underwear yet? I got a card game tomorrow, and I don’t wanna be sitting at that table with my balls flapping in the breeze.”

  Chapter Twelve

  WHEN GRANDPA called out from his bedroom, Jude scrambled back, pulled his knees against his chest, and looked incredibly worried. Reese didn’t like the expression on his face. He wanted Jude back in his arms, but knew he had to be careful. If he pushed too much, Jude would leave. Or Grandpa would catch them, and he’d never hear the end of it. Even though Reese had bought the house, it was Thomas Matheson’s home, and the old man assumed he was still in charge.

  But at some point, he and Jude would be alone together. Reese shivered at the thought. He needed to figure it out and fast. If he really dissected his feelings, he would have to admit that Jude was a welcome diversion from a pretty devastating situation. It hurt to watch his beloved grandfather deteriorate further. It hurt a lot. Having Jude there was a lifesaver, a distraction, and a complication. He knew that, but he couldn’t help himself.

  Reese needed to have something positive to look forward to and focus on at all times. Usually it was his music, and while writing the musical was a passion project he’d waited a long time to work on, it was bittersweet. He’d be putting his grandfather’s music in front of the world for the first time, and there was a strong possibility his grandfather wouldn’t be around to enjoy the adulation.

  Eventually “the biz” would be back in his face and his reprieve would be over. He’d fought long and hard with his agent and manager to have time off. They warned him that going into seclusion would hurt the chances for his next project, but he knew better. It was going to be a masterpiece.

  FOR THE rest of the afternoon, Jude sat with Grandpa while Reese hunted around in the garage and pulled together the pieces of music he wanted to play with his grandfather. He brought them in just before supper and sat at the antique upright player piano in the living room. Grandpa insisted they keep the old thing so he could put on the rolls and just listen if he didn’t feel up to playing.

  “Are you guys ready for this?” he said excitedly. He couldn’t wait to see Grandpa’s reaction to hearing his old tunes again. Reese got comfortable at the bench and winked at his grandfather, who was sitting in his chair. Jude lingered in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed over his scrub-clad chest. He’d changed out of Reese’s clothes at some point, which irritated Reese for some possessive reason.

  Reese laid his fingers on the keys, cleared his voice, and prepared to launch into the first verse when Grandpa stood up and made a clucking sound.

  “That ain’t the right beat. That’s too bouncy. It’s smoother—like a jazzy bit. Move your ass over. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

  That was secretly what Reese wanted, so he slid over and made room for his grandfather.

  “Make room, son. My balls take up more space these days.” The old man chuckled, and Reese groaned. He glanced back at Jude and found him smiling. Then he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight. Jude’s smile was filled with straight, white teeth and surrounded by full, dark lips. Those lips had tasted so good and were so fun to kiss. He could spend hours—

  “Reese, my boy. Pay attention. Here. You play this part and sing it.”

  Reese did as the old man commanded and sang the lyrics he remembered his grandfather singing to him as a younger man. Reese had learned to play piano on a lot of the songs his grandfather either wrote or played himself. It felt good to belt out the tunes. He hadn’t done much singing in a long time. For his last show, he played piano in the orchestra rather than conducting his own score. He didn’t want that responsibility.

  He hadn’t used his vocal instrument much since rehearsals for the show eight months earlier. They’d done a four-month run on Broadway and then two months in London. It was grueling but fun, and audiences loved it both in New York and across the pond. He wanted to do it all again, but with Grandpa’s tunes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  THE MATHESON men played piano, sang, and laughed for a solid three hours. Jude was concerned that Grandpa missed his evening meal as well as his programs, but he saw how much fun the two of them were having. Eventually they stopped, and Mr. Matheson stretched out his back and hands.

  “That sounds great, son. This is going to be a helluva show.”

  “Thanks, old man. Hey, how about we head over to the diner and have some supper?”

  Jude turned to go to the kitchen and finish the dishes from lunch, but Reese called him back.

  “Jude, why don’t you go change while I help Grandpa?”

  Jude turned around and frowned. “I—”

  “Come on, Jude my boy. They got some cute little waitresses at this place. I like to pretend I keep dropping my napkin. Works every time.” He waggled his bushy eyebrows, and Reese made a disgusted face.

  “What would Grandma think if she heard what you’re up to?”

  “She’d probably feel sorry for the poor girls. She used to say I was too much man for just her.”

  “I’ll bet,” Reese said as he rolled his eyes. Then he looked expectantly at Jude. “Well, come on. You know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

  Jude couldn’t help but feel like Reese was setting up more than just a trip to the diner. If he wasn’t mistaken, it seemed like Reese was including him in their outing as though he were part of the family, which made any sort of intimacy on their part seem even more wrong. Either they needed to agree to be hands-off and continue as friends or give in to their feelings. Jude would continue to help him until…. When? Until Mr. Matheson had to be placed in a facility? Until…. But he’d grown to care so much for the older man that he was sure it would be just as tough for him when it came time to make those difficult decisions. He couldn’t desert Reese.

  Jude marched out to the truck and was about to open the door when he sensed Reese behind him. He turned to see what he wanted, and Reese pinned him against the door of the Pathfinder.

  “Look, Jude. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I promise I’ll behave if you’ll just—”

  “Whatever, Reese. I’ll go along with it. I’m frankly too tired to argue with you.” Jude couldn’t help laughing and shaking his head. It was absolutely crazy.

  Reese grabbed him around the waist and nuzzled his neck. “And later on I’ll tuck you in. You look really good in my bed.” Jude tipped his head to the side to give Reese more access.

  “And before you say anything, I pulled out the air mattress, and I’ll be camping out in the garage. I’ll be fine. It’s finished in there. Anyway,” he said nibbling on Jude’s ear, “hurry up, would ya? I’m hungry.” Then Reese strolled back to the house.

  Jude was left feeling as though he’d just ridden out a tropical storm. What on earth was Reese playing at? Jude had never been pursued like that before. And yet he’d acted like one of those idiots who chased tornados or stood on the coast watching a hurricane approach the shore—in awe of its beauty and unable to look away despite the danger. Huh. Hurricane Reese.

  He pulled a stack of clean clothes out of the back seat and figured he might as well have a couple changes of clothes since Reese seemed hell-bent on having him there.

  Shortly thereafter the three men left the house in Reese’s Tesla. Mr. Matheson complained about Reese’s car the whole way.

  “I miss riding in a car with balls. This car has no balls. It’s so damn quiet, you practically run people over in crosswalks. I like a nice rumble when I roll down the street.”

  “Grandpa, those days are over. We can’t afford to keep polluting our environment with those beasts.
Sorry. You’re going to have to make your own rumble, just not on my leather seats. Got it?”

  “Hey, sometimes you gotta let ’er rip.” The Mathesons laughed together in the front seats, while Jude cringed in the back.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone carry on so much about male genitalia and bodily functions. This is like an episode of Beavis and Butthead.”

  “You’re always so damn proper, Jude my boy. Don’t you ever let loose a little? Don’t you Asians ever talk about your balls?”

  Jude burst out laughing. “Mr. Matheson, it’s one thing to discuss this type of thing with my family and another with my employers.”

  “See, that’s where you’ve got it all wrong, Jude. You’re part of the family,” Mr. Matheson said, and he turned to offer Jude a rare smile.

  It had been a long time since Jude had been in a family situation. He skipped most functions at Tito Rommel’s house to avoid the constant barrage of “Where’s your girlfriend? When are you getting married? When will you give us babies?” talk. He was closest to Tita Germaine and saw her all the time. But Tita Gemma was a gossip extraordinaire and always pushed for the latest and juiciest information. Jude had been content to hide out at the Mathesons’. Perhaps he’d been evading more than he thought.

  “Well, I’m still not talking about my balls, if that’s what it takes to be a part of this family.”

  Reese and Mr. Matheson laughed, and the remainder of the short drive was full of all kinds of potty talk. Reese parked in the lot behind the diner, and Jude helped Mr. Matheson out of the front seat. They had to wait outside for a few minutes while they cleared a table, so Grandpa said he wanted to go in and “use the can.” Jude enjoyed listening to Reese imitate his grandfather. They laughed until their bellies ached and leaned on each other for support.

  “Wow, same position, different man.” Jude spun around to find Jada and a film crew behind them. Jada was standing with her arms crossed at her waist and despite what Reese had said, Jude felt guilty—as though he’d been the one to wrong her.

  “What is all this?” Reese asked her through gritted teeth. He attempted to remain calm, but Jude could see the tension in his shoulders.

  “Well since you refused to answer my calls, I thought I’d come find you. I know you love this ridiculous place. I should have known you wouldn’t be here alone.”

  “Jada, what are you doing? Can I talk to you for a minute? Off camera?” Reese stuck his hands on his hips and glared at the cameramen. Jada held up a finger to the cameramen, approached Reese, and got up in his personal space.

  “I told you they either wanted to interview us together, or catch us in a candid setting. You didn’t set up the interview, so….”

  “Did you really think I’d agree to this circus? My grandfather is inside waiting for us, Jada. For God’s sake, have some fucking class.” Reese turned, walked to the door, and placed a hand on Jude’s back. “Let’s go.”

  “I knew you’d hook up with him as soon as I was out of the picture. I can’t believe you, Reese. I can’t believe you treated me like this. You led me on for two years.”

  Reese froze in his spot and took a deep breath. He looked at Jude apologetically and sighed. “Can you please see to Grandpa? He should be finished. I’ll deal with this.”

  Jude felt terribly uncomfortable for many reasons. He was angry that Jada was trying to drag their dirty laundry out in public. He was shocked that she’d insinuate that he and Reese were together. And he was confused. Had Reese led her on? What exactly caused their break up?

  He wanted to stand by Reese and be supportive, but his presence was only making the scene worse. He offered a smile and wished it were appropriate for him to respond to Jada’s accusation. There was a lot he could say about this scenario. Instead Reese opened the door for him, and he walked inside. Jude wanted to shield Mr. Matheson from the drama as best he could, and he was relieved when the hostess said she would seat them toward the back and away from the window. Mr. Matheson was just making his way toward the front, so Jude was able to intercept him and guide him to their table.

  “Where’s my boy?”

  Jude wasn’t sure how much Mr. Matheson knew about Jada. “He’s wrapping up a conversation out front. He’ll join us in a minute.”

  They sat down across from each other, and Mr. Matheson looked toward the windows where he could clearly see Reese arguing with Jada. The cameras were filming the whole thing. Jude and Mr. Matheson looked at each other and frowned.

  “That little bitch. I should go give her a piece of my mind.”

  “I think that would make things worse for Reese. Let’s just give him a minute.”

  He looked over his shoulder and frowned. How dare she put him through that.

  “You been good to us, Jude my boy. I appreciate you helping my grandson out. I know I’m getting more forgetful, and it’s getting harder to get around. Promise me something?”

  Jude raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  The old man sighed and took a drink of the coffee the server had just brought for him. Jude didn’t remind him that he shouldn’t have more coffee.

  “Promise me that when I’m gone, or as good as gone, you’ll take care of him? You’re a good man, Jude. You’re more than just a nurse. Reese is going to need somebody to help him make decisions, and I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more.”

  It was heartbreaking—and unfair. Mr. Matheson was lucid. He should have more time with Reese. They should be able to make their musical together and enjoy their success. Jude leaned forward and placed a hand over Mr. Matheson’s.

  “I won’t let him go through this alone. I’ll do whatever I can for you both.”

  Mr. Matheson smiled. “Of course you will. Now where is that cute little waitress? I hope we get the one with the red hair. Her ponytail makes me think dirty thoughts.”

  Jude rolled his eyes and then straightened up as Reese joined them. He slid into the booth next to Jude with a tight smile.

  “What did—”

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Reese said hurriedly. “So, old man, where’s the cute one?”

  At that moment a very attractive woman approached the table with a big smile and a bigger pile of red hair.

  “Tommy, why aren’t you sitting in my section?” she purred. She gave Reese a big smile, and her eyes lingered over Jude with curiosity.

  “Well, ma’am, these two eggheads were in charge of picking the seats. They don’t know how things work.”

  She cocked out a hip and put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, they’ll have to do better next time, won’t they?” She winked at Reese. “I’m sure Sue Ann will do right by you. I’ll catch you next time. Bye y’all.”

  She walked away from the table, and Mr. Matheson made no effort to hide the fact that he was watching her ass.

  “Don’t they complain about your harassment?” Reese laughed.

  “Nah. Not if you tip well. Now, what was all that nonsense out there? Paparazzi catch up with ya? Too bad they didn’t get my picture. I haven’t been in the magazines for a long time.”

  Reese smiled, but his eyes looked stressed. “Trust me, old man. You’d want nothing to do with that bullshit.”

  “That little wench bothering you, eh?”

  “Grandpa,” Reese admonished, “I don’t totally blame her. She’s got these producers on this show pressuring her—”

  “She has no right to make such a fuss.”

  “Well, she had to put up with a lot of shit when those photos came out. People made up all kinds of stories. It had to have been embarrassing for her with all she’s got going on. People thought I dumped her for a guy in my show.”

  Jude straightened in his seat. So that was what happened.

  “Yeah, well, I still think she needed to be lowered a notch or two. It’s not like you were messing around with that guy.”

  Oh. Boy.

  Reese leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “But it was certai
nly possible.”

  Mr. Matheson fidgeted in his seat and frowned. “You young people today. Just go off with whoever,” he said, waving his hand as though he were too uncomfortable with the idea to even say it out loud.

  Reese wasn’t going to drop it. He waved his hand, imitating his grandfather. “And….”

  The older Matheson shrugged it off and looked around for the waitress. “Ain’t she gonna come take our order? I’m wastin’ away.”

  Sure enough, a blonde woman came over to the table, flirted a little less than the redhead, and asked to take their order.

  “Gimme the liver and onions,” Mr. Matheson said. Then he stared at Jude as though daring him to correct him.

  “Ew. For real? That shit is disgusting,” Reese said and scrunched up his face.

  “It’s like eating the filter,” Jude said, shuddering. “Not to mention the carcinogens in fried food.”

  “Well, I ain’t gonna live forever. I might as well eat what I like.”

  “Yeah, but now we gotta smell that shit all night,” Reese said.

  Mr. Matheson just grinned.

  Reese and Jude simultaneously ordered turkey and avocado sandwiches. They looked at each other and grinned like a couple of teenagers, and Mr. Matheson rolled his eyes.

  “All that healthy eating ain’t gonna keep you alive forever.”

  “Yes, but it makes the life you have feel a lot better,” Jude said quietly. Reese was watching him way too closely. He was also practically sitting in Jude’s lap. Their thighs touched under the table. It felt too cozy.

  “So Jude, my boy, how’s the dancing coming?”

  Reese looked at him sharply, and Jude blew out a nervous breath.

  “It’s good. We’ve got most of the program choreographed.”

  “And they use those scarves and ribbon thingies and rifles and swords and stuff?”

  Jude laughed. It was good to know he remembered. “Yes, Mr. Matheson. That’s right.”

  Reese was still staring at him. He wanted to elbow him or something to get him to stop. So he kicked him under the table.