Time had definitely been good to her.
He smiled at the thought.
“What?” she asked, picking up the menu but not opening it.
He shook his head, dismissing her question.
“From my vantage point,” she said, “that looked like a whole lot more than nothing.”
This was definitely the same Juliette—the one who never let him get away with anything.
“I was just thinking,” he said, “it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too.” She sounded a little shy.
He rubbed his nail over a piece of worn duct tape that appeared to be covering a rip in the booth’s red vinyl seat. The sensation grounded him, bringing him back to something that was hard and real and a little rough around the edges after standing the test of time. He identified with that. There was something both comforting and disquieting about finding himself in this diorama of the past.
How had they let so much time go by without speaking? The quick answer was that they were both stubborn. They’d both had their fragile teenage pride hurt. They’d gone off on different life paths and blinked and here they were again—all these years later. Jude was tempted to ask her to tell him everything—everything he’d missed, everything she’d grown to be. He had no idea if she was even dating anyone. For all he knew, she might be head over heels for someone else—she might not have even given him a second thought during the time that they’d been apart.
When they’d reconnected at Ethan and Chelsea’s wedding, he’d stayed in Celebration less than twenty-four hours. It was all he could spare from the circuit—but even with the limited interaction, it was enough time to realize that he and Juliette still had chemistry. Even after all these years.
That revelation was one of the driving forces behind his decision to come home after the concussion and back injury that had knocked him out of the running for the professional bull riding finals. He was doing better, but sometimes he woke up with blinding headaches and his body hurt like he was one hundred years old. Still, he wasn’t going to tell her that. He was too young to complain about his aches and pains that no one wanted to hear about, anyway.
“So, tell me everything,” Juliette said. Those blue eyes of hers sparkled and made his mind go temporarily blank.
“Everything?” he asked. “That’s a tall order.”
“Everything. Just start from the beginning.”
The beginning? As in when he’d proposed and she’d turned him down? Or did she want him to skip ahead to the part where he’d gotten engaged to somebody else and Juliette had vowed to never speak to him again. She’d done a pretty good job of keeping that promise, until he’d seen her at the wedding.
And now here they were. At least they were talking. He toyed with the corner of the plastic laminated menu. “Everything is a lot of ground to cover. We could be here for a while.”
He hadn’t realized what a loaded statement that was until he saw her brow arch ever so slightly and the faint smile that turned up the outer corners of that gorgeous mouth. What he would give to know what was going on in her mind at that moment.
He mustered his best smile. “Judging by the look on your face, you don’t have plans this afternoon?”
“That remains to be seen,” Juliette quipped. “Start talking and we’ll see.”
Her sassy mouth was one of the things he’d loved best about her. Well, that and about a million other things that were coming back to him one by one.
Funny, over the past ten years he’d attracted a certain type of woman who had been happy to let him call the shots and set the pace. Juliette had always held her own with him and he’d forgotten how damn attractive that was. He was just about to ask her if she was seeing anyone when she spoke first.
“How about starting with why you’re home, and at the beginning of October. The season isn’t over. Shouldn’t you be off at some competition showing a bull who is boss?”
Oh, that.
“One of the reasons I’m home is because someone’s interested in buying my land,” he said. “I’ve had an offer on it.”
She leaned forward. “You’re thinking about selling your part of the Campbell ranch?”
He nodded, but before he could say anything else, Dottie Wilde, who had worked at the Redbird Diner for as far back as Jude could remember, walked up with her order pad and a broad smile plastered across her face.
“Well, if it isn’t Jude Campbell, as I live and breathe. Honey, is that really you?”
He flashed his best smile and winked. “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Wilde. It’s me.”
She leaned in and gave him a hug.
“When did you get home, honey?”
“About an hour ago.”
She put her hand on her heart. “Oh, my stars, I am honored to be your first stop back in the old neighborhood.”
His gaze snagged Juliette’s. “If I’m completely honest, the Redbird is my second stop.”
Mrs. Wilde turned her smile on Juliette. “Well, silly me. Of course you’d go see your girl first. It just warms my heart to see you kids together again. Just like old times. Makes me feel young again.”
He looked at Juliette, who wasn’t looking at him. She had politely smiled at Dottie and then had taken a keen interest in the menu, reminding him that even though they were talking and she had agreed to have coffee with him, even though that undeniable chemistry still pulsed between them, a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon still separated them.
He looked back at Dottie, who was making a show of brushing away happy tears, but she shook off her reverie and beamed at them.
“Look at me,” she said. “Aren’t I a sight? I’m a bundle of emotions today. What’ll you have? It’s all on the house. Anything you want. It’s not every day we have a professional bull riding celebrity wander in here. You’re our very own hometown hero and that calls for a celebration.”
They ordered coffee and a piece of blueberry pie to share. The Redbird Diner had always had good pie.
After Dottie left to round up the food, Juliette said, “Well, Cowboy, aren’t you something. I guess it pays to be a hometown hero. In all the years I’ve been coming here, I’ve never gotten free food from Dottie Wilde.”
He shrugged. “Her offer is nice. But totally unexpected. I’ll leave her a big tip.”
All this hometown hero talk made him uncomfortable.
He’d won the PBR world championship last year. But this current season, he’d done nothing but struggle and battle one injury after another. Last year, before he’d won the big prize, all his hard work had paid off and his plans had come to fruition. Everything had snapped into place. Since then, it seemed as if every force was working against him. At twenty-eight, he was one of the senior members of the circuit. He’d worked damn hard to get there, but this year, it seemed like his reflexes weren’t as quick to respond; sometimes his instincts seemed to lag behind. Talk had been that his head just wasn’t in the game. The truth was his