From homecoming crowns to wedding rings

Hunky bull rider Jude Campbell seems to have the world by the proverbial horns. But when the world champion returns to Celebration for his high school reunion, he’s confronted by the ghosts he’d worked so hard to forget. Not to mention the high school love who got away...

Bridezilla wrangler Juliette Lowell is as gorgeous and genuine as she was as Jude’s homecoming queen. And the spark between them burns as bright as ever. But Jules still smarts from Jude’s betrayal years before. And as successful as he seems, Jude’s struggling with the prospect of hanging up his spurs. But with his queen, Juliette, by his side, maybe this homecoming will take once and for all...

“How is it that we went all these years without talking, Jude?”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve asked myself that same question,” he said.

“Why didn’t you...try?” she said.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The air stilled. Their words threatened to conjure the hurts of the past, and they tried to crowd between them.

“When the man who had asked you to give up everything and elope with him—to spend the rest of your life with him—shows up three months later engaged to someone else, it makes it a little hard to be the first one to reach out.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. That’s why I came to see you first thing when I got into town.”

“This was probably a bad idea.” She started to push to a sitting position, but with a strong arm, Jude pulled her down next to him.

“No, it’s not.”

And he kissed her.

* * *

Celebration, TX: Love is just a celebration away...

The Cowboy Who Got Away

Nancy Robards Thompson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

National bestselling author NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON holds a degree in journalism. She worked as a newspaper reporter until she realized reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Now that she has much more content to report to her muse, Nancy loves writing women’s fiction and romance full-time. Critics have deemed her work “funny, smart and observant.” She resides in Florida with her husband and daughter. You can reach her at www.nancyrobardsthompson.com and Facebook.com/nancyrobardsthompsonbooks.

This book is dedicated to my brother, Jay, who has the best sense of humor of anyone I know. Love you, little brother!

Special thanks to Ryder Bliss for helping me name the antiques store in downtown Celebration.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“This is a disaster,” the bride-to-be wailed. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm when it’s all your fault, Juliette.”

Juliette Lowell bit the insides of her cheeks and resisted the urge to help Tabatha Jones, the bridezilla du jour, put her current crisis into perspective. Around the world, people less privileged faced life-and-death crises. The realization that the hand-dyed lavender pumps were two shades lighter than the bridesmaids’ dresses was certainly a disappointment, but it was not a disaster of meltdown proportions as the bride was making it out to be.

“You have to fix this.” Tabatha’s voice rose three octaves, pushing a tear out onto her cheekbone. It left a trail in her foundation as it meandered down her sullen face. “This is absolutely unacceptable. The wedding is a month away and I need to know how you are going to make this right.”

Standing in the middle of the Campbell Wedding Barn, the venue for the ceremony, Tabatha’s breath was quick and shallow as she glared at Juliette.

She seemed dangerously close to hyperventilating.

“Take a deep breath, Tabatha,” Juliette said. The minute the words left her lips, she knew they were a mistake.

“Don’t tell me how to breathe,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just fix this.”

All Juliette could do was shrug. Probably a good choice since every word she uttered seemed to be digging her deeper into trouble.

When Tabatha had noticed the discrepancy in color, she’d called Juliette, who’d suggested they meet at the wedding venue to view the shoes and dresses in the same light in which they’d be worn during the ceremony.

“Tabatha, they really don’t look bad,” Juliette said, holding a silk pump next to a dress in a ray of sunshine streaming through one of the barn’s generous skylights. “Besides, the dresses are long and people aren’t going to be looking at your bridesmaids’ feet. They will be looking at their beautiful faces. No one will notice that the color isn’t exactly the same.”

Tabatha growled. She actually growled. A guttural sound in the back of her throat that started low, then exploded in a noise that sounded like a bark. For a split second, Juliette feared she might lunge at her.

Tabatha’s mother must have had the same worry because she put an arm around her daughter, but Tabatha brushed her off and pointed at Juliette. “The bridesmaids’ shoes were custom-made in Italy.”

“I know,” Juliette said. “I told you that due to variations in dye lots and the different material of the shoes and dresses that the color might not be an exact match.”

The woman had been so smitten by the thought of buying her bridesmaids bespoke shoes that she obviously hadn’t heard a word that Juliette had said.

Or she had selective memory.

Juliette held up the shoe again, turning it every which way in the light. “It’s close—”

“It’s not close enough,” Tabatha hissed. “All I care about is how you’re going to fix this in time for the wedding. Fix it.”

Tabatha thrust the lavender shoe at Juliette and walked out of the barn.

“Oh, Tabatha. Honey...” Her mother cast an apologetic glance at Juliette and trotted along after her daughter.

Good grief.

As Juliette stood there trying to digest what had just happened, another realization hit her hard. All her life she’d been a people pleaser. In the past, she would’ve chased after the client, falling all over herself trying to make the bride-to-be happy, promising her miracles she would’ve worked magic to deliver, but today, she just didn’t have it in her.

She wanted Tabatha to have the wedding of her dreams, but the woman was out of control. She’d crossed the line. Juliette had told her about the possibility of color variations, but Tabatha had ignored her.

“I warned you,” Juliette muttered under her breath as she slid the dress back into the garment bag and draped it over her arm. Before she placed the pumps back in their box, she held one up again and tried to look at the color with an objective eye. They were pretty. Well, as pretty as purple silk pumps could be.

Even so, her job was to make sure the bride was happy. She’d call her friend Nora at Sassy Feet Shoe Repair and see if she could help.

Juliette sighed. “It’s a purple shoe. I don’t know what more you want, Tabatha. The way you’re acting, you’d think they sent you something chartreuse.”

“Does Tabatha have something against chartreuse shoes?”

The familiar deep, masculine voice wound its way around her spine and settled at the very base of her solar plexus, making her breath catch and her heart do an all-too-familiar two-step. She knew it was Jude Campbell before she turned around and saw him standing in the wedding barn’s doorway.

Her initial split-second reaction was It’s you. You’re back. She wanted to hug him and lose herself in the sanctuary of his strong arms, in the familiar feel and smell of him. But in the next blink, the intoxicating madness fell into the chasm that had been created by everything that had happened when they broke up and the ensuing years that they’d been apart since then.

“Actually, Tabatha dislikes lavender shoes. Or these lavender shoes, at least.”

“Was that Tabatha I saw kicking up gravel as she peeled out of the parking lot?”

“Oh, she peeled out, did she? Nice. I hope she waited for her mother to get in the car and close the door before she sped off.”

Jude nodded and flashed that effortless, brilliant smile that reached all the way to his brown eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. He looked exactly the same, from the top of his curly honey-brown hair to the broad, muscled shoulders all the way down to the toes of his weathered cowboy boots. Juliette’s mouth went dry and all the reasons she should keep her walls firmly in place threatened to fly out the window, but she knew better.

She prided herself on only making new mistakes.

Jude Campbell, with his hypnotizing smile and those arms and broad shoulders, would not be a new mistake.

“Why are you here, Jude?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to another. “What’s the matter, Juju? Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”

Hearing him call her by the nickname he’d had for her all those years ago made something warm and forbidden blossom in her stomach.

Damn him. How was it that after all these years, after everything he’d done, he still had this effect on her? How could she still feel something for him after what he’d done to her? To them.

“You seemed like you were happy to see me when I was home for Ethan and Chelsea’s wedding. What happened?”

Reality happened. Real life happened. Three months ago, he’d waltzed back into town for one night—for his brother’s wedding to Juliette’s best friend. He’d been the best man to her maid of honor. There had been a built-in safety in that short visit. Because of the wedding, almost every minute of her time had been consumed by helping Chelsea, or otherwise claimed by the schedule of events. There hadn’t been enough time to let down her guard. But if she was honest with herself, in that short twenty-four hours the ice cap that had formed over her heart had started thawing.

He’d left so soon after the wedding there’d been no need to think about the feelings he’d stirred up in her. It wasn’t denial; it was self-preservation. It had been ten years since he’d been back to Celebration. For all she knew, it would be another ten before he passed through again.

“You were home?” she said, emphasizing the operative word. “You breezed through so fast, I wasn’t even sure if it was really you. Are you home longer this time, Jude?”

He cocked a brow. “Would you be happy if I said yes?”

Juliette didn’t answer. She busied herself wrapping the purple shoe in the tissue paper it came in and putting it back into its box.

“I am home longer this time than last.”

Damn if her gaze didn’t find its way back to him. His eyes seemed to hold a mixture of bemusement and disappointment.

He wasn’t that tall—just under six feet, which was still big for a bull rider. But he had those broad shoulders and that lean, muscled body to compensate for it. He also had those lethal, dark brown eyes and that lopsided smile that had always disarmed her.

Even after everything that had happened, her former eighteen-year-old self whispered that she wouldn’t mind a bit if he kissed her hello, but the twenty-eight-year-old she was now, the one who knew better, overruled that foolishness with a simple blink of her eyes.

This was the effect Jude Campbell had on every healthy, red-blooded woman he encountered.

And that’s what she needed to remember.

“I’d heard through the grapevine that you weren’t coming back for the ten-year reunion,” she said.

“My plans have changed. Is it too late to change my RSVP?”

Juliette shrugged. “You’ll have to call Marilyn Harding. She’s chairing the reunion committee.”

Juliette silently cursed Tabatha again. If not for the ridiculously demanding woman, she wouldn’t have been at the Campbell Wedding Barn at the precise moment Jude had chosen to make his entrance. Juliette was a wedding planner, but Jude’s sister, Lucy, owned and operated the venue. She had inherited the property after her parents had died several years ago and had turned the old ramshackle barn into one of the South’s premier wedding barns.

Since Juliette sent so much business Lucy’s way, she’d given Juliette a key to the place so that she could come and go as she needed. No sense in both of them being at the mercy of the gaggle of bridezillas who contracted Juliette to create the wedding of their dreams.

Lately, it seemed like every single bride she worked with turned into a bridezilla.

Juliette took a deep breath as she pondered the possibility that if every one of her brides seemed like a bridezilla, maybe they weren’t the problem; maybe she was the one who’d gone off the rails. Or something like that. Maybe she was mixing her metaphors. She was so burned-out lately, it was a wonder she could even think. It didn’t help that Jude was standing right there in front of her.

“I thought the homecoming queen would’ve been in the middle of organizing the ten-year reunion,” he said.

Juliette frowned and hitched up the garment bag onto her arm. “So, you think the homecoming queen should plan the party, and the homecoming king should just be able to show up? And until today you weren’t even sure if you could make it. Can you please explain the logic in that?”

Jude was silent for a moment and it took everything in Juliette’s power not to fill the stillness, until finally, he spoke.

“Was there ever any logic when it came to you and me, Juju?”

Juliette’s stomach clenched.

“If you are here to see Lucy, she’s not in right now. You might want to give her a call on her cell phone. There’s not an event tonight, so she and Zane were taking the day off.”

“I’ve already talked to my sister. I stopped by because I saw your car out there.”

She tried to ignore the satisfaction his confession brought her and almost asked him how he knew it was her car, but stopped short. He’d seen it when he was home for the wedding. Jude had taken a break from the professional bull riding circuit to come home for the wedding of his older brother, Ethan, to Chelsea Ashford Alden. Of course, that’s when he’d seen it. The wedding had been the first time that she’d seen Jude in the nearly ten years since the two of them had broken up before she’d gone to college and he’d gone off to try out his skills on the PBR circuit.

He was fresh off a world championship win. A hometown hero. Of course he’d want to come home and bask in the glory.

“How long are you home?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Two or three weeks? A month? Depends.”

All kinds of questions filled her head. It was the beginning of October. The PBR circuit usually ran through the end of the month. She wanted to ask him about work, but a sixth sense warned her that might be shaky territory. Really, it was none of her business. If he was still in the running for this year’s championship, he wouldn’t be hanging around Celebration right now. It stood to reason that she was better off not asking.

“Where are you staying?” she asked instead.

“At the cabin on the lower forty of my folks’ property—my property,” he corrected.

Jude and his siblings had inherited the ninety acres that had been in the Campbell family for three generations. They’d subdivided the property into three equitable shares. Ethan and Lucy each had working businesses on their respective properties.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been out there,” Juliette said. “Are you comfortable there? Does the place even have electricity?”

“I have no idea. I’ll be fine,” he said. “If it’s too bad, I can always crash at Lucy’s.”

“I wasn’t offering you a place to stay,” she said. She meant to be funny, but it came out sounding defensive.

“No? Too bad, because I just realized that Zane is probably crashing at my sister’s. Ethan and Chelsea are newlyweds. You were my last hope to save me from being a third wheel.”

He winked at her and she wasn’t altogether convinced that he was kidding.

“Yeah, well, I have two words for you—Celebration Inn. I’m sure they have a vacancy. But wait. Have you not even been to the cabin yet? Otherwise you’d know if the electricity was turned on.”

“Just rolled into town and saw your car.”

He smiled at her, holding her gaze for a few beats too long as she realized that he’d stopped to see her first, before his family, before getting settled in.

“It’s good to see you, Juju.” He shifted from one foot to another. “If you’re free, want to go grab a beer?”

Yes.

She shook her head. “It’s eleven thirty, Jude. And don’t tell me it’s five o’clock somewhere. If I drink now, I won’t get anything done today.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. How about a cup of coffee then?”

* * *

Whoever said you can’t go home again didn’t know what the hell they were talking about, Jude thought as he opened the door to the Redbird Diner for Juliette. The place hadn’t changed a bit. Same red vinyl booths and light gray Formica tables. The bar that separated the grill from the dining room was done in the same red-and-gray color scheme it had always sported. Large framed posters of the food offerings—burgers, fried chicken, tuna melts, French fries, sodas and shakes, coffee and pie—lined the walls, and on top of each table, small jukeboxes waited for diners to choose their own music at the same bargain price they’d charged for as far back as he could remember—a nickel a song.

An old Johnny Cash standard filled the diner, which was uncharacteristically empty except for them and a busboy he didn’t recognize cleaning a table.

The homey smell of the food made his stomach rumble. He realized it had been a while since he’d eaten. He’d been so eager to get back to Celebration, he hadn’t bothered to stop and eat.

The sameness of it all warmed him in a way he hadn’t expected. It must have been at least nine years since he’d been here. There’d been no time to stop in at the diner when he’d come back for Ethan and Chelsea’s wedding.

The last time he’d been home before that had been for his mom’s funeral.

His dad had died from injuries in a drunk driving accident ten months before his mom had passed. His dad had been the careless drunk. The wreck had left his mom in a wheelchair and she’d never fully recovered.

Jude had been there to bury his mother, but he hadn’t bothered to come for his old man’s funeral.

He had no idea why he was letting the old drunk haunt him now. They hadn’t gotten along. During their last bad blowup, he’d punched Jude in the face and had sent him packing. Jude hadn’t pressed charges because his mother had begged him not to. It was the first time the old man had ever turned violent. That was the only reason Jude hadn’t taken it to the sheriff. But even though he hadn’t involved the law, he had left town, not giving them a chance to talk it out or make amends.

Jude hadn’t kidded himself. He’d deserved his father’s anger. He just hadn’t expected the black eye.

There was nothing he could do about it now. So, he blinked away the thought and put his hand on the small of Juliette’s back as they walked to the booth in the back corner and seated themselves in the very same place they had spent many hours when they were in high school. Being here with her felt like stepping back in time. The diner was virtually unchanged and Juliette looked almost exactly the same as she had all those years ago—only better, if that was possible. His gaze swept over her face, taking her in. Her olive skin had the same healthy tanned glow. Her long dark silky hair hung loose around her shoulders, tempting him to reach out and touch it. And he could still get lost in those sky blue eyes that were intently watching him watch her. Yeah, definitely better. She was even more beautiful now than she used to be back then. It was a more seasoned beauty—a confidence that suggested she was comfortable in her own skin.

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 body just didn’t seem to bounce back the way it had leading up to his win.

Because of all the setbacks, he was out of the running for the big money this season. He’d come back to Celebration to sort it all out. To figure out if he was up for one more good run or if he should quit before he suffered permanent damage like the doctors had warned.

His agent insisted that the doctors had to be overly cautious to avoid liability. He kept reminding Jude that a lot of guys got right back on the bulls after getting hurt. When Jude had hesitated, he reminded him that because of his age and injuries the clock on his career was ticking and he needed to make hay while the sun was shining. The subtext to that, of course, was that the sun hadn’t been smiling down on him much this year.

The chime on the door sounded and three girls who looked like they were high school age entered the diner and settled in the booth next to the one he and Juliette occupied. One of them was in Jude’s line of sight and she smiled at him. He smiled back, just being polite.

“You’re not really going to sell your property, are you?” Juliette asked, a frown knitting her brows.

When their parents had died, he, Ethan and their sister, Lucy, had each inherited equally valued parcels of land. Ethan’s was smaller, but had the stables from which he ran his horse-breeding business. Several decades ago, his family’s ranch had been one of the most successful in the area, but they’d run into financial hardship when alcoholism had gotten the best of Donovan Campbell. For a while it appeared that Ethan might fall down the same slippery slope after his parents’ deaths and the end of his first marriage, but after some soul searching and sheer determination, he’d pulled himself up from rock bottom and had set the Triple C Ranch back on the road to profitability.

Lucy had the parcel where their grandparents’ old house and barn stood. She’d spent a lot of time there as a child, so it seemed only right that that portion of the property would be hers. She’d moved into the house and had worked hard to turn her dream into a reality when she’d transformed the old abandoned barn into the Campbell Wedding Barn, one of the South’s premier boutique venues.

The land Jude had inherited was on the outer edge of the property. It was mostly wide-open pasture, but it did contain two structures, an old cabin near a lake and a bungalow, that the late mother of Lucy’s fiancé, Zane Phillips, had rented for decades before her passing. The rent Dorothy Phillips had paid had helped cut the cost of maintaining the property and lifted the burden of property taxes. Now the place was sitting vacant, and without the rental income, Jude was concerned about the place becoming a financial drain—especially since this year’s earnings paled in comparison to last year’s.

Sure, he was all about family legacy—in theory—but the bottom line of his budget and slowly shrinking bank account made the opportunity to unload the property seem attractive.

“I don’t know if I’m going to sell,” he said. “That’s what I came home to figure out.”

“Excuse me?” The girl who had smiled at him a moment ago was standing next to their table. “Are you Jude Campbell?”

He sent a look to Juliette that he hoped said, Sorry about this.

“That would be me,” he said.

“I’m a huge fan. In fact, I bought this shirt because it’s a Copenhagen On-Off Shirt.”

Copenhagen was the sportswear manufacturer who sponsored him. The On-Off Shirt had materialized after a particularly rough ride his championship year. After going ten seconds on a mean bull, the beast not only bucked him off, but charged after him. Jude narrowly sidestepped the animal, but not before one of the bull’s horns caught the edge of his shirt, ripping it off and leaving him to run for his life bare-chested.

The best ride of Jude’s life had been overshadowed by a bull stripping off his shirt. A video clip had gone viral and the graphic of him, naked from the waist up, had turned into a sensation that inspired his own line of shirts, the On-Off Shirt.

As far as he was concerned, they were just plain old shirts. They weren’t breakaway style, they didn’t go on and off any easier than a regular run-of-the-mill T-shirt, but fans—old and new—had scooped them up like they were gold. At least for a little while. As of late, thanks to a combination of the public’s fickle attention span and his lackluster performance this season, sales were on the downturn. His agent, Bob Bornfield, was desperately trying to renegotiate the terms of the endorsement contract.

One element on which Jude wouldn’t budge was the part that obligated Copenhagen to donate 10 percent of net sales to a charity that benefited at-risk teens.

Then again, 10 percent of nothing equaled nothing.

“Would you sign it for me? My name is Shari.” She brandished a black permanent marker. Her blond hair was slicked back into a tight, high ponytail, and she wore hoop earrings the size of doughnuts and a ton of makeup. It looked like she’d used the marker to line her eyes.

“Sure,” Jude said.

“Right here.” Shari touched the top of her left breast and leaned in, giving Jude all access. “S-H-A-R-I,” she spelled as she tapped her breast.

Jude blanched. This girl was much too young to be suggesting what it seemed like she was. He glanced at Juliette, who was busy fishing coins out of a small purse she’d pulled from her handbag.

This was awkward.

Jude would be lying if he didn’t admit that things like this happened frequently when he was on the road. Except usually the women were, well, women. Not teenage girls.

In the context of a rodeo, it seemed like part of the job—part of the show. He’d flirt, they’d flirt back, he’d sign autographs—yes, sometimes bare midriffs and cleavage—and make small talk with various degrees of innuendo. It was all in fun and part of the free-spirited cowboy image he’d cultivated: Jude Campbell, the face—and bare chest—of the Copenhagen On-Off Shirt. Most of the time the women would move along. And sure he had the occasional groupie hang around until everyone had gone. Occasionally things happened. But he was single. Completely unencumbered. The road could be a lonely place. But he always practiced safe sex. Always.

Sitting here with Juliette while this girl thrust her breast in his face was just...straight-up wrong. It felt disrespectful and sleazy.

He leaned back, away from the girl. Then he pointed to the cuff of the long-sleeved T-shirt. “I’ll sign it here.”

“No, really, here is better.” She tapped her breast again.

“No, really. This is better.” He tapped the sleeve with the marker.

Looking a little disappointed, she took a step back and offered him the inside cuff.

He signed and said in his most professional voice, “Thanks for your support, Shari.”

Thank God the girl simply turned and went back to her table. After she was gone, Jude said, “Sorry about that.”

“Hazard of the job, huh?”

“Something like that.” His voice was an apology.

While he was signing the shirt, Juliette had dumped some coins on the table, separating three nickels from the rest of the money. Jude reached into his pocket and pulled out the little bit of change he had. It wasn’t much, but he added five more nickels to the pile. Juliette fed them into the machine and punched in some numbers. The first tune that played was Luke Bryan’s “To The Moon And Back.” He had the CD in his truck.

“If you’re serious about selling, couldn’t you have negotiated the sale through lawyers?” she asked after she’d finished choosing the music.

He blinked at the change of subject, but was relieved that she seemed unfazed by Shari—or at least was willing to move on.

“Yes, but I need to see the property again. My real estate agent said the buyer had some questions. Plus, I need to talk to Ethan face-to-face.”

She nodded. “Probably a good idea. Something tells me he might not take this very well.”

Juliette got it. She still understood his family dynamics. Sometimes she’d gotten it better than he had.

He was just opening his mouth to say as much when the door chime sounded again and his old high school buddy Tony Darcy walked in with two little kids in tow.

“Hey, Tony,” Jude called. “What’s going on, man?”

“Campbell? What the—What are you doing here?”

The two shook hands and exchanged quick man hugs. Tony greeted Juliette.

They made small talk, doing the cursory catch-up. Tony said he’d been following Jude’s journey on the PBR circuit.

“I’m living vicariously through you, bro,” he said.

Tony said he was teaching math at Celebration High School. He’d married his high school sweetheart, Janet Hayes, five years ago. They had two kids and Janet was ready to give birth to their third any day now.

“I’m glad I got to see you because with the baby on the way, Janet and I probably won’t make it to the reunion. That’s why you’re back in town, right? How long are you in town?”

Jude shrugged. “That’s up in the air right now. It just depends on some things that I have brewing.”

“If you do end up staying for a while, would you be willing to come and talk to the high school’s rodeo club? I’m the sponsor and I know they’d all love to hear from a champion. You’re kind of a big deal around here. But don’t get a big head or anything.”

“Sure, I’d love to come and talk to them. Let me see what I have going and I’ll give you a call.”

They exchanged numbers, and by that time Dottie delivered the blueberry pie and coffee and Tony’s to-go order, which he’d phoned in earlier. Tony paid and was out the door, but not before promising that if he didn’t hear from Jude he’d come looking for him.

“Remember that bonfire party we had out by the lake on your property?” Juliette said, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Oh, my gosh, remember when Tony and Isaac Oppenheimer were being jackasses and decided to go skinny-dipping to embarrass all the girls?”

Jude laughed. “And someone went to hide their clothes and ended up dropping them in the fire by mistake.”

Juliette was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. “And we had to make sandwich boards out of the beer boxes and bungee cords so that they didn’t get arrested for indecent exposure. It would’ve served them right if they’d spent the night in jail. That makes me sound old, doesn’t it?” She shook her head. “We had some good times out there, didn’t we?” A faraway smile softened her features as she picked up her coffee cup.

Jude swallowed a bite of pie. “Remember that time my dad was drunk when he was keeping watch out by the barn looking for those coyotes that kept trying to get after the horses? He almost shot me thinking I was an animal when really I was just sneaking in late for curfew.”

“You were an animal.” She laughed again and the sound washed over him like balm. “That’s when I started calling you Wylie,” she said. “Oh, and remember that tree we planted by the cabin? I wonder if it’s still there.”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you come out there with me and we’ll find out?”

Chapter Two

Juliette should’ve said no when Jude asked her to come with him to the lake cabin. Reminiscing over coffee was one thing, but returning to the scene where they’d made most of their memories was entirely another.

Yet here she sat in his truck, right next to him in the very place that had been her spot. Of course, it was a different truck. It was newer and more expensive than the old beater Ford he’d driven in high school, but if she closed her eyes, she could see the two of them just as they were.

That’s why she needed to keep her eyes wide-open and her head firmly in the here and now.

She knew better than this. If she was tempted to forget why letting down her defenses with Jude was a bad idea, all she had to do was remind herself what happened with Shari at the Redbird Diner. Witnessing that girl fawning all over him had conjured the same feelings someone throwing a bucket of ice water in her face would have. It had been enough to shock some sense into her. Of course, it wasn’t Jude’s fault that women found him irresistible. She had to give him credit for handling Shari as well as he did. The girl seemed to offer herself to him the same way that Dottie had offered free pie—it was his for the taking. That was the life of an unmarried bull riding champion. Jude and his groupies were a package deal. She needed to keep that in mind when she found herself getting swept up in the current of his charisma.

She stole a glance at his profile as he steered his truck off the gravel drive and down the dirt path that led to the lake. The problem was, all she had to do was spend a little time with him and all of yesteryear’s feelings threatened to flood back, making her feel like she was a teenager again and so in love that she couldn’t tell her own wants from his. She couldn’t distinguish the boundaries between his life and hers.

Because back then, there had been no boundaries.

She wasn’t in love with him anymore, but that chemistry, that electricity that had been the hallmark of their relationship, was still there, stronger than ever. She was pretty sure if she reached out and touched him that the air would sizzle.

And that’s why she needed to watch herself.

The truck bumped along the grooves that had worn into the carpet of green grass. They passed groups of skinny pine trees and the occasional cluster of rocks and boulders. Finally, Jude stopped between the big live oak where the two of them had carved their initials on one of those endless summer nights and the old cabin that had served as their lakeside cabana.

They used to sneak off down here and disappear into their own little world. Everything else would fade away, except for them. God, they’d been two crazy teenagers who had been so hot for each other they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. But even before that—when they were younger and more innocent—they’d always been drawn to each other. They’d rode horses together on his family’s ranch. He’d taught her how to barrel race and she’d taught him the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork. He’d held her and let her cry on his shoulder when her dad died. She’d given him advice about how to make his relationship with his own dad better. She was his girl. He was her guy. She couldn’t even remember when exactly they’d made their relationship official. They just always were.

Jude and Juliette.

Juliette and Jude.

Juju.

Juju was interchangeable for them collectively or for each of them separately—one of the sickeningly sweet pet names they’d had for each other.

It had all been great. Until it wasn’t anymore and ten years of silence had stretched between them like an endless ocean cloaked by night.

“The place looks good,” Jude said, leaning forward to look out the windshield and glance around. “Ethan has been looking after it for me.”

Juliette took off her seat belt and shifted so that she was facing him. It would’ve felt so natural to slide over next to him and tuck herself into that nook under his arm where she’d always fit so perfectly.

But no. That was the danger zone.

“Did you not make arrangements to have someone else take care of the place?”

Jude nodded. “Of course I did. I paid the upkeep bills. He just offered to help. You know Ethan.”

She hadn’t meant to sound judgmental. Even though she felt proprietary, the place wasn’t hers and whatever arrangement Jude and Ethan had agreed to wasn’t her business. As an only child, she didn’t know the luxury of leaning on a sibling. She certainly hadn’t been out here to look after the place. Not since...that night.

That fateful night. It had all unfolded in the cabin. She hadn’t realized when she’d come out here searching for Jude that her whole world would change. Or maybe she had. Maybe having a big blowup was the only way she could’ve left.

No, she wasn’t going there. The best way to get herself back on track was to make a joke. “I mean, think of all the hooligans who might come out here and party and skinny-dip and get into all kinds of trouble.”

Jude nodded. “Exactly. I’m sure they’ll thank me later.”

Playing along, Juliette rolled her eyes. “I’m sure they will.”

They got out of the truck and started walking down toward the lake.

“Oh, my gosh,” Juliette said, pointing to a tall tree near the lake bank. “Is that the sapling?”

“It has to be,” Jude said. It was the only tree between the lake and the cabin that wasn’t ancient. “Looks like it not only survived, but it’s thriving.”

“I’m so glad it’s still here,” she said. “We planted that, Jude. You and me. Look at it. It’s beautiful.”

He was looking at her like she was an angel. “At least we did something right. I think it’s a sign.”

She narrowed her eyes. “A sign of what?”

He smiled a knowing smile. “A sign of good things to come.”

She wanted to make a joke and ask him if he meant a sign of good times to come. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. A comment like that felt like she was offering more than she could deliver. There was a lot to sort out.

She was rarely at a loss for words, but as she stood there trying to figure out what to say, he turned and started heading toward the lake.

The warm breeze played with her hair and danced on the water, creating gentle ripples. It was the perfect day to be outside. Closer to the spot where the grass gave way to a dirt embankment, the rustling leaves of the river birch whispered a sweet welcome-home greeting. The grass looked as if it had been freshly mowed and the water weeds were so neat, they must’ve been trimmed recently.

A few feet in front of them, a black snake slithered by.

Juliette let out a little yelp as she jumped back and grabbed onto Jude’s arm. The move was a reflex and she pulled away as soon as she realized how good he smelled.

“Snake.” She grimaced. “You know how I feel about snakes.”

He smiled. “I remember. But don’t worry, that black snake is harmless. Even though there are other creatures around here who aren’t. Did we really used to take off all our clothes and swim in that water? At night—?”

“Were we stupid or what?” she agreed.

And crazy for each other.

They’d done a lot more than swim in that lake, but she wasn’t going to remind him. She probably didn’t need to.

The look that settled on his face told her that he was right there with her.

As if reading each other’s minds, they smiled knowing smiles at each other. He was a gentleman and he didn’t bring it up. She knew she should be grateful, but the teenager in her was disappointed.

“I need to check on a couple of things while I’m out here,” he said. “This is one of them. The buyer’s Realtor said the water level of the lake was way down and it was close to drying up. Looks fine to me. He also said there’s a problem with that old foundation slab that my dad poured. Remember how he wanted to build an outbuilding to house the mowers and equipment? The buyer’s agent is using the lake and the slab as reasons to undercut the offer.”

As they walked toward the place where Don Campbell had poured the foundation for the project he hadn’t been able to complete, Juliette said, “It sounds like they’re playing hardball, Jude.”

He shrugged. “You know, that’s just how it goes in business.”

“What kind of a business is the buyer in? Is it another rancher? Did Zane tell you that he sold his ranch to Bridgemont Farms? They’d been after him for a while to sell and when Dorothy got sick he needed the money to help her out with her medical bills.”

Zane Phillips was engaged to Jude’s little sister, Lucy. The pair was expecting a baby in a few months. If Juliette was a true romantic, Lucy and Zane’s story might have made her believe that there was still hope for her and Jude. Lucy and Zane had been lifelong friends and had finally taken that friendship to the next level. Now they were expecting a baby.

But they had done things the right way. They had been friends before they became lovers. They knew each other inside and out and understood each other. Sure, she and Jude had history, but they also had a whole lot of standing water underneath their own bridge of years. Too much water, Juliette feared, to be able to bail themselves out and get to the other side without drowning if they decided to shed the superficial and dive into everything that had gone wrong.

When they got to the concrete slab, Jude stepped up onto it and then offered his hand to Juliette, helping her up onto the foundation. The block was weathered and cracked as expected for something that had been exposed to the elements for nearly a decade.

“It’s not ideal, but it’s not going to cost them twenty thousand dollars to remove it,” Jude said.

“Twenty thousand dollars? Are you kidding me?”

“Like I said, they’re playing hardball. They’re saying that because the lake dried up it shouldn’t be considered lakefront property. Since I don’t live in Celebration anymore, I guess they thought I wouldn’t check, which is pretty ridiculous.”

“The lake is perfectly fine. Who are these con men?”

“I’m not altogether sure. My Realtor is dealing with them through their Realtor. She’s the one handling the specifics. It’s some corporation I’ve never heard of. I haven’t had a chance to check them out because I’ve been so busy. I just haven’t gotten to that point yet. And I wanted to check out their claims before I invested too much energy. But now that I’m back, once I get settled in and I can take a breath, I’ll do my research.”

Juliette nodded. At least he wasn’t 100 percent set on selling to this buyer. She knew it was crazy, but the thought of him letting go of the property made her sad. It would feel as if he was divesting himself of the last bit of them. And that was selfish. Because if he had no use for the property, he still had to pay property taxes and such. Even so, the thought of it made her heart feel heavy. This was their place.

“Let me pull up the email from my Realtor.” Jude took out his phone. “I think she mentioned who they are.”

He tapped and scrolled the screen, then handed Juliette his cell.

“Here it is.”

She took the phone, ignoring the way their hands brushed.

The email said:

Hi, gorgeous, the offer for the Celebration, Texas, property is attached. Call me if you have any questions. Or call me, even if you don’t have any questions. Just call me. Smooches, Afton

“Smooches?” Juliette said before she could stop herself. “What kind of real estate professional signs her email ‘smooches’?”

Jude laughed. “That’s just Afton.”

“Oh, well, Afton sounds like she likes you. Isn’t there some sort of professional code of ethics she’s violating? Like how doctors aren’t supposed to get personally involved with their patients?”

“Afton and I are not personally involved.”

“Really? Sounds like she thinks you are, gorgeous.”

He laughed. It was a full-bodied belly laugh. “You’re jealous.” Even though the familiar sound of his laughter soothed her, she still felt heat blooming on her cheeks.

“I am not jealous.” She raised her chin. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because you still love me.” He was teasing. She knew he was, the same way he used to always tease her. Since every word that came out of her mouth seemed to make it worse, she didn’t answer him. Instead, she turned her attention to his phone. “Do you mind if I pull up the attachment that Smooches sent?”

“No, go ahead.”

“So, wait, is she representing you or the buyer? Because it doesn’t seem like Smooches has your best interests at heart.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she should advise you not to let them undercut you with bogus claims.”

He was smiling at her like she was adorable. And then he laughed. “I’m aware of their bogus claims. Afton is an old friend. She knows, too. She also understands that I’m on the fence about selling the property. I wasn’t actively looking for a buyer. But she brought me the offer.”

“But she knows you well enough to know you own the property. Is she an old girlfriend?”

“You are jealous.”

Juliette handed him his phone. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

“You didn’t look at the attachment.”

Juliette shook her head. “I’ll let you do the honors of opening it. Especially since you haven’t looked at it yet. That has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with self-preservation. Who knows what other surprises Smooches might have in store for you.”

His gaze flickered to hers. For a split second he looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He honed in on his phone. “The offer is from an outfit called the MAG Holdings Limited Partnership. Never heard of them. Have you?”

Juliette shook her head. “Do an internet search and see what you can find out.”

“It says here that MAG Holdings is the parent company for Metro Arrow Homes.”

That didn’t sound very good. “Jude, they build houses. Like those cookie-cutter shoeboxes that all look alike. If they want to put a subdivision in here, they can’t. It’s not zoned for single-family housing.

“They must have something up their sleeve,” Juliette said. “Because I doubt that they’d be willing to fork over a lot of money to turn the property into a nature preserve. It’s a nice idea, but I don’t think so.”

His brows knit together as he read the information that was on the screen. “This isn’t okay. In fact, it’s not going to happen.”

He shook his head as he continued to read. “No, this is no good at all. Besides, with the way they’re trying to undercut the asking price...I think this deal is off.”

Both of them were silent, watching a couple of sandhill cranes fly in and land in the lake’s shallow water near the shore.

“I think that’s smart,” Juliette said. “Judging by what they’re trying to pull with the lake and the slab, it sounds like they aren’t very honest.”

“Yeah, there are few things I hate more than wheeler dealers,” Jude said.

“Of course,” Juliette said.

They walked in silence back the way they came. Juliette focused on the unchanged beauty of the place and tried not to wonder whether or not he’d ask Afton to look for another buyer. The lush green grass, the smattering of trees, the big live oak on the other side of the cabin, where they used to seek shade on hot summer days. It was like reuniting with an old friend or time traveling. If she squinted her eyes and blocked out everything else—especially the voices in her head—she was transported back to a much simpler time, when she and Jude were in love and their only worry had been not attracting the sheriff when they lit a bonfire on a cold fall night.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked out of the blue, breaking the silence.

The non sequitur made her breath catch. Really, the question shouldn’t have been so surprising. It was an obvious question that old friends would ask each other. Although, they might start with the less important and build up to this. But, hey, leave it to Jude to take the leap.

“Who wants to know?” She raised her brows at him, trying to lighten the mood.

“I want to know, Jules.”

“In this moment, I’m seeing you,” she said, “walking next to me. That’s all that matters.”

He nodded. “Then I’ll take that as a no, that you’re not otherwise involved with anyone.”

She put her hands on her hips. “What about you? Do you have someone special or is it just the Saturday night special...an endless line of Aftons?”

Okay, that was corny. She was trying to be funny, but obviously funny wasn’t her thing.

“No, there’s no one special in my life right now. And for the record, I don’t have time for Saturday night specials, as you put it. What does that even mean?”

Juliette shrugged. “Random women. You know, a different Afton every Saturday night.”

“Most Saturday nights I’m at a competition and by the time I’m done—after I’ve been tossed around, thrown and sometimes kicked or stepped on—this body is not always in the mood for a Saturday night special.”

Juliette smiled. “That’s good to know. I mean, it’s not good that you get thrown and stepped on.” She grimaced. “You know that’s why I always had a hard time watching you compete. I couldn’t stand to see you get hurt. You know, come to think of it, you never answered my question. What are you doing back in Celebration when there’s still a month left on the tour? I know you said you were home to check out the property, but that doesn’t take two weeks. In two weeks it will be time for the world championship. What’s going on, Jude?”

He stiffened and crossed his arms over his chest. Defensive body language. But Juliette was determined not to speak first, because if she did it might give him an out—he might latch onto it and change the subject.

His gaze met hers. She raised her brows.

“I ran into some trouble. I got thrown a little too hard in a couple of matches and I had to sit out the next ones.”

“Oh, no. Are you okay?”

Jude tore his gaze away from hers. He kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot, as if giving himself more time to form his words.

“I suffered a couple of concussions. I couldn’t ride because of it. Now I don’t have enough points to qualify for the world championship.” He cursed under his breath. “How about that? I’m the reigning world champion and I won’t even be able to defend my title.”

He laughed, but it was a dry and brittle sound.

She resisted the urge to hug him. “Jude, I’m proud of you for doing the right thing. Your health—your well-being—is so much more important than a competition.”

His face fell. “It’s my livelihood, Jules. It’s not just a competition. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at. It’s who I am.”

“I get it, Jude. But if the doctor is telling you it’s not a good idea for you to take the risk and ride, if you go against doctor’s orders to do it, the repercussions could be...”

She shuddered. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word—deadly. Even the thought of it made her heart hurt.

Jude shrugged. The look on his face said he didn’t agree. They’d had this conversation about the risk of him getting hurt so many times when they were in high school—or at least variations of it.

Having been away from him all these years, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about the reality of what he was doing every day, how he earned his living. The risk he faced every day. Sure, she’d kept up with him. She’d been happy to read about the results of his competitions. The internet was a beautiful thing in that regard. She loved seeing that he was doing well, seeing his steady climb to the top of his game. But reading the CliffsNotes also meant that she didn’t have to see him get thrown and come within centimeters of getting stomped.

They’d always been at odds over this—for as far back as she could remember. And nothing had changed. It was best to change the subject.

Their gazes found each other and locked in a silent truce.

She could agree with that. She didn’t want to fight with him. Not on the first day seeing him after all these years. She wasn’t sure what his plans were. She had no idea if she was even going to get to see him very much while he was home. She realized in that moment that she wanted to. But still, they had this moment. Maybe that was all that mattered.

When they got back to the truck, Jude walked to the tailgate, opened it and started peeling back the bed cover.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I need to get my things out of here,” he called over his shoulder.

“What things?”

“My suitcase. All the things I brought with me.”

“So, you really haven’t been here yet?”

“Nope. Just arriving.”

That meant his first stop really had been to see her at the wedding barn. When he’d told Dottie that, she thought he would have at least stopped by the cabin and unpacked first.

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.

Chapter Three

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 again and called, “Hello?”

“Hello?” Guinevere answered. “Juliette, darling? Is that you? We are in the kitchen. Join us, please.”

Juliette was tempted to thank her mother for the invitation to enter her own kitchen, but she didn’t feel like sparring. What she wanted to do was sink into a nice hot bubble bath and replay the afternoon with Jude in her head. But when she walked into the kitchen, her mother was sitting at the kitchen table with dozens of fabric swatches in front of her, sipping something from a teacup as Chelsea stood, holding up different fabric combinations, comparing them to one another. Guinevere would offer yes or no verdicts and Chelsea, who was an interior designer, would deposit them into the corresponding piles.

“Ah, there you are,” Guinevere said when she saw Juliette. “I’m so glad you’re home. I desperately need your expert advice. But, oh, Juliette, Chelsea is such a dear. She has agreed to help me choose the fabric for the new house. When Chelsea told me she was available to meet this afternoon, I tried to call you, but you weren’t picking up. Where were you, darling?”

Juliette’s gaze locked with Chelsea’s, whose eyes widened as if she could read Juliette’s mind, before her expression settled into a knowing smirk. Juliette tried to telegraph back, I’ll tell you everything later. She looked away before she could ascertain whether or not Chelsea had gotten the message.

She needed to appear as normal as possible so that her mother didn’t pick up on anything. As a general rule, Guinevere didn’t pick up on nonverbal cues very often, but just when Juliette started to write her off as obtuse, her mother would surprise her.

“I had to meet a client at the Campbell Wedding Barn.”

It was the truth.

Guinevere blanched. “And you went out of the house like that? I wouldn’t call that business attire.”

Juliette resisted the urge to grind her teeth. “It’s Saturday, Mother. A rare Saturday that I don’t have a wedding on the books. I have a day off. I had not intended on meeting with the client today, but she had an emergency. This is Saturday business casual.”

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