Page 63 of No Control

“That’s intense.”

“That’s what Henry is.”

We stand there, staring at each other for a few moments longer. A million questions swim in my head as the beats of silence pass. But as I open my mouth to ask, starting with my phone that suddenly isn’t working…

Jude speaks first. “You want coffee? I have a strong feeling you’ll be waiting up, too.”

I nod, feeling the gun still lodged in my pants. Duke stays asleep on the couch as I slide onto one of the bar stools and Jude starts the coffeemaker.

“Henry is complicated,” Jude begins, letting out a sharp exhale as he faces me. “But I can tell he’s trying really hard with you.”

“Has he ever done it before?” I don’t really know what that means, trying with me, so I let the question land vague.

“Uh, no.” Jude laughs. “I don’t even know the last time Henry spoke about a woman, let alone brought her to his house.”

“I’m here for the book, though.”

His laughter fades. “Right. Okay.”

I narrow my gaze. “He admitted that he wanted me when we met.”

“And maybe that’s why he stuck to his terms. He wanted you.” Jude hesitates after he says it—like he might say something else—but then clamps his mouth shut, grabbing two coffee mugs.

“My phone isn’t working,” I tell him as he sets them on the counter.

He spins around instantly, his eyes flashing with something I can’t read. “What do you mean it’s not working?” “There’s no service.”

“Let me see it.”

I dig it out of my pocket and slide it across the island to him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

His brows furrow as he unlocks the screen, heading straight for the settings. “Have you tried turning it off and back on?”

“Yeah, and it didn’t fix it.”

“That’s weird.” He slides it back to me. “Maybe you got your SIM card wet?” The confusion on his face feels genuine, and I let out a sigh. Maybe they aren’t somehow magically messing up my phone.

“I went on a walk with Duke, but I don’t think I got it wet.”

He nods, grabbing the creamer. “How do you like your coffee?”

“Just a little cream, not much.”

“Got it.” He pours the creamer, stirs it, and then hands it to me. “We can get you a new phone tomorrow. Don’t sweat it.”

“Why did he take a gun with him?” I blurt out the question and Jude once again lets out a sigh, like I’m a nagging toddler.

Jude takes a sip of his coffee, sets it down, and then leans toward me. “Why do you have a gun in your waistband?”

My cheeks grow hot. Maybe I’m not so smooth. “I…”

“I’m not going to take it from you,” Jude laughs, leaning back. “I don’t think you’d shoot me. Better you have it, anyway.”

“Why?”

“That’s a question for Henry. I think I’ve probably said enough for one night.” He downs the rest of his coffee like it’s a shot, and then heads over to the keypad beside the glass door.

I sip on the warm liquid as Jude punches in a code.

---