As he unloaded, Juliette walked over to the ancient tree near the cabin, the one they’d carved their initials into.
“Remember this?” she said, tracing a finger over the words etched into the rough bark, time-weathered and darkened like a wound that had left a scar.
Jude walked up behind her. “‘Jude and Juliette 4-ever.’” His voice sounded hoarse and throaty. “And here we are again.”
He set down his bags, reached out and traced the words the same way she had. Then he covered her hand with his. She stood there for a moment memorizing the warmth of his hand on hers.
“Jude.”
He leaned in so close she could feel the heat of him, but she didn’t turn around. She didn’t pull away, either.
Instinctively, she knew if she turned around his lips would be much too close to hers. She might kiss him. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to taste his lips again and see if, like everything else out here, the taste of them, the feel of them, was still the same.
“I wanted to check on the sapling we planted, but I had forgotten about this tree,” he said. “How could I forget it?”
She shrugged. The gesture seemed to pull him in closer. She could smell that Jude smell—a mixture of leather and citrus and grassy undertones. Usually, people were a product of their environment. How was it that so much time had gone by and Jude still smelled exactly the same? She breathed in deeply, turning her head toward him slightly.
The nearness of him made her shiver and relax into him. “It’s still here. It stood the test of time,” she whispered.
A long moment passed with his words hanging between them. “I’m glad you didn’t forget about me, Jules.”
If she didn’t reclaim her personal space, she was going to do something she might regret.
Might regret.
Then again, she might not.
“You’re pretty hard to forget.”
It was eerie to find themselves back at the spot where everything had started. And ended. It was as if they were here for a do-over—or a second chance to make things right.
More than once, when she’d kissed another man, her mind had conjured Jude. Then the letdown she’d suffer when she opened her eyes to find herself in the arms of a familiar stranger would be devastating. The memory of Jude’s kiss took her back. It was as if she was seeing everything that was once so familiar through brand-new eyes.
He turned her around. His arms slid around her. He pulled her close and placed a soft kiss on her lips. She put her hands on the sides of his face and anchored his mouth to hers. The kiss started slow and soft. But that lasted for a mere second before his arms tightened around her and he took possession of her mouth. Passion ignited a ravenous hunger. She parted her lips to deepen the kiss. She leaned into him as if her next breath depended on him.
For a moment, common sense upended and the whole world disappeared. He pulled her tighter, staking his claim, unspoken feelings pouring out in this wordless confession.
He tasted like blueberries from the pie they’d shared earlier and coffee and the cinnamon gum he’d been chewing in the truck and something so familiar it made her ache. It was the comfort of their history, mixed with the promise of the future.
Finally.
After all these years.
A moment ago she had been worried about all the other women, and now he was kissing her so thoroughly she just might let herself believe they could have a second chance. The feelings that had stirred when she saw him standing in the doorway of the Campbell Wedding Barn were fully awake now. And they just might consume her if she let them.
Juliette had no idea how much time had passed when they finally broke apart. It was even better than she remembered. Because they weren’t kids anymore. They weren’t hiding out, stealing moments. This was Jude, holding her close, kissing her lips, rendering the lost years irrelevant.
“There’s so much we left undone.” He rested his forehead against hers. His lips were a whisper away. “What are we going to do about it?”
How had things gone so wrong? It was hard to remember.
That was the burning question, and it brought her back to earth with a thud. It made her feel a little hollow inside. They’d once meant so much to each other, but after they’d broken up, it had seemed really and truly over. They hadn’t spoken in years, yet mere hours after they’d seen each other...here they were.
She knew what she wanted, what she needed. But who knew how long he was staying. They needed to talk about things, about what happened. No matter how good things felt in this moment, they couldn’t just bury the past and pretend what happened didn’t happen. But she didn’t know how much of the dark side of their past she wanted to dredge up right now.
Kissing Jude had been like stepping back in time. They were eighteen again. They had no worries. As always, when they were together, the rest of the world didn’t exist. But forty-five minutes later, Juliette was back at her house. Jude had dropped her off at the Campbell Wedding Barn where she’d left her car. She hadn’t meant to make the goodbye so awkward, but Zane’s truck was parked next to Lucy’s house, which meant Zane and Lucy were back from their day out. If Lucy saw her climbing out of Jude’s truck, her friend would have bombarded them with questions she didn’t know how to answer right now. Plus, one look at herself in the rearview mirror had revealed mussed hair, kiss-swollen lips and telltale traces of the makeup she’d applied this morning. It was most definitely a post-kissing face.
Yes, one look at her and Lucy would have twigged to the situation like a divining rod. So, Juliette had gathered her purse, given Jude a quick peck on the lips, and beelined for her car before that could happen and the awkward what’s next? conversation could present itself.
As she pulled out of the parking lot, Jude had looked a little bewildered. He’d caught her eye and put his thumb to his ear and his pinky to his mouth, making the international I’ll call you sign.
Juliette just waved as if she hadn’t noticed.
Ugh. Of course she’d noticed. But she had no idea what to do next—what she wanted or whether or not it was a good idea to even let herself go there, to let herself hope. Of course, it wasn’t a good idea. Common sense dictated as much, but it seemed her heart wasn’t getting the memo that reminded her that this wasn’t her first Jude Campbell rodeo, and the sponsor of this one was heartache.
As if that wasn’t enough, she had more pressing matters to contend with. Her mother’s and Chelsea’s cars were parked in the driveway, forcing Juliette to park in the street and do her best to get rid of the mascara smudges under her eyes. Suddenly, she was reduced to feeling like a teenager again, sneaking in after she and Jude had stolen a forbidden afternoon together. She was mortified at the prospect of facing her mother, who had never been a fan of Jude Campbell. In fact, she’d done everything in her power to throw monkey wrenches and scholarships into the path of her relationship with Jude.
What in the world were her mother and Chelsea doing here? Of course, her mother never waited for an invitation. That was Guinevere. As Juliette unlocked the door and pushed it open, she steeled herself for whatever crisis or drama or any number of other situations had enticed Guinevere out of her ivory tower.
Before she could clear the foyer, her little corgi, Franklin, came bounding around the corner, skidding on the hardwood as he barked his greeting. Juliette bent down and gave him some strokes. “Some watchdog you are, Franklin. You’re supposed to keep people out, not invite them in.”
The little dog rolled over on his back so she could scratch his belly. “You’re hopeless. Thank goodness you’re so cute.” She stood up