Page 97 of Axe-ing for Trouble
Surprisingly, the thought that he wanted to introduce me to his mother made my chest warm.
But this wasn’t real. It wasn’t possible. No matter how much I liked him, this situation was too volatile for making plans.
“Sorry. That was weird,” he admitted without looking up.
“It’s okay.” I gently spun my wineglass on the granite countertop. “I don’t expect to meet your mother.”
“No.” He snapped his head up. “I want you to. When this is over.”
“If it’s ever over.”
“Whenit’s over, I promise, Debbie Hebert will be thrilled to meet the woman brave enough to take down a drug trafficking ring.” He pinned me with the kind of look that left no room for questions, all intense eyes and a serious scowl.
I was strangely flattered by his confidence.
Instead of even considering the reason I’d broken out in goose bumps at that look, I ignored the confusing feelings I had for Jude and got back to my line of questioning. I was nothing if not a thorough interviewer. “I’m sure you’ve met nice, strong girls up here, and your brothers found love and have families.”
“First of all, that’s all recent.” He stretched out one section of dough. “My brothers were as fucked up as I am for a long time. Being the child of a messy divorce will do that to you. Add on a criminal father, and we were all a wreck.”
“What changed?”
He paused, dough stretched in midair. “Dad went to jail. We had to face what he’d done. We lost the company and the respect of this town. It was a bit of a rebirth, really.”
He gently positioned the dough on a large pizza paddle.
“When we were kids, Dad was wealthy and influential. Stayed that way until only a few years ago, actually. He was also a complete prick. I’m luckier than most of my brothers. He ignored Noah and me for the most part. We were only four when he left, and since neither of us was a super athlete, he didn’t take much interest. Cole had it really bad. He was the hockey star. And Owen and Gus were downright abused for years.”
“That’s awful.”
“My whole life, I lived with this pressure, with these expectations looming over me. I was expected to act the way a Hebert should, even if I didn’t know what that meant. But when Dad went to jail, the bubble burst, and we could openly acknowledge how terrible he was.”
I gave him a small smile. “And by saying it out loud, you were able to start healing.”
He returned my expression, though his smile was a bright, gorgeous thing that had me squeezing my thighs together.
“Exactly. My brothers and I have had more conversations about childhood shit in the past year than in the previous thirty-three. It’s been awful, but also freeing.”
“Freedom looks good on you,” I said with a wink.
“Hey,” he teased as he pulled open the fridge and removed what looked like a log of cheese, “I’m only a guy who makes pizza.”
“What’s that?”
“This is fresh buffalo mozzarella.” He set it on the counter and unwrapped it.
As he tore it into small chunks, I angled closer. “Can I have some?”
He held out a small piece, and when I leaned over the countertop and opened my mouth, he fed it to me, mouth quirking. His movements were slow, his fingertips grazing my lip and sending a zap of electricity through me.
I sat back and ate it, and as the flavor hit, I let out a little squeak. “That is delicious.”
With a smirk, he went back to tearing the cheese.
“One time, when I was in Tuscany,” I said, wiping at the corners of my mouth, “I got this mozzarella from a farmers’ market that was so good I actually cried.”
Jude arched a brow. “Cried?”
“Yes. I am not one of those women who pretends to be all cool and emotionless. And if you can’t cry tears of joy about really good cheese, are you even living?”
