But he was close. His off-key singing to the song playing on the radio was a dead giveaway. As I rolled over, a smile was already in place.
When my eyes landed on a backside, a bare backside, manning the coffee machine, my smile stretched wider.
"Have I mentioned lately what a fine ass you have?" I said, propping up onto my elbows, because if Jude's bare backside was on display for my ogling pleasure, I was going to enjoy the view.
He smirked at me as he poured coffee into a cup. "Only last night, when you were grabbing it while you screamed my name."
"My. Someone woke up on the cocky side of the bed this morning." I was tempted to check my phone for the time, but that would have meant looking away. The time could wait; a naked Jude making coffee couldn't.
"I wake up on that side of the bed every morning, Luce," he said, turning around.
Like the bad girl I was, my eyes zeroed in on a certain spot. "Yes, you most certainly do." My smile could not possibly stretch further without hurting.
"Good morning," he said, holding out the cup of coffee while I continued with my staring contest.
"Yes, it is," I replied, sitting up.
"Okay, Luce, you gotta stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to be late to practice." He waited until my gaze shifted to his before he handed me the coffee. That was probably for the best. Gawking women and steaming cups of liquid don't go together well.
"If you don't want me looking at you like that, you should have put some clothes on." I raised an eyebrow at him as I took a sip. "Thanks for the coffee. Very domestic of you."
Snatching his discarded boxers from last night, he hiked them into position before scooting next to me. "I like waiting on you hand and foot," he said, his eyes traveling down my body. "And everywhere in between."
I sighed into my cup. "Here's a pointer. If you don't want to be late to practice, you shouldn't say those kinds of things either."
His eyes cleared and returned to mine almost immediately. How he could go from dripping sex one moment to all business the next, I didn't know, but it was something that I doubted I'd ever be able to master. "You didn't exactly give me a chance to tell you last night, since you were busy ravaging me on that table that has now officially become my favorite piece of furniture"-he studied the table as a slow smile formed-"but I'm sorry for everything yesterday, Luce. I wanted the whole day to be perfect and it couldn't have gone more wrong."
No, it couldn't have. Well, at least up until the night.
I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry, too," I said, so familiar with the words I could have been a certified expert by now. In the history of our relationship, "I'm sorry," "Forgive me," and "I messed up" came almost as frequently as "I love you."
"If you don't like the house, that's fine. We'll find another one," he said, draping an arm over my shoulders. "I want you to be happy, Luce, and I never would have picked this place out if I thought it was going to upset you."
I sighed in relief. Yesterday we'd battled this conversation out. Today we could talk about it calmly and constructively. Maybe this was how we needed to approach these kinds of land mines in the future: naked and in bed.
"I know that, Jude. It just took me by surprise. Everything's coming at me so fast, and sometimes I feel like I don't have a chance to catch my breath." I paused to take another drink. "You know?"
"Believe me, I know," he replied with a nod. "You don't need to explain it to me, Luce. I get it, and I'm sorry I made this whole thing harder on you. I'll call my real estate agent this afternoon and have him start looking for a different place. Okay?" He pulled me closer, tucking my head beneath his jaw.
"Will this real estate agent be looking at three-bedroom, two-bathroom houses?" I started telling myself to stay calm, so when and if this took a turn for the heated, I could better manage it.
Jude groaned, but it wasn't his full-fledged one, like he was also trying to catch himself before either of our tempers could escalate. "You realize how much money I'm making this year? Right, Luce? And how much I'll be making from now-"
"I know. I know," I said, biting my tongue so my next comments stayed inside. "But how does that change who you are? And who I am? And what we want?" Those were, at the core of it all, the questions I needed answered.
"It doesn't change me, or you, or what we want at all, Luce," he said calmly. "All it changes is our style of life. And how many sweet rides we have in our five-car garage."