Crush (Crash #3)(70)

When the end of time was upon us, Holly Reed was here to save us.

"Later, then," Anton said, shouldering past Jude.

"Looking forward to it," Jude said, glaring holes into Anton's back.

"Real mature," I said, nudging him.

"I thought you said that guy didn't have a thing for you, Luce."

I still hadn't told Jude what Anton had said to me that afternoon a few weeks ago in the office. No time seemed to be right for unloading that dirty little secret. Least of all now.

"What's your point?"

"That douche has a serious thing for you. A serious thing."

I rubbed his arm, trying to soothe him. "How do you know that?" I asked, pretending I wasn't sure if he was right.

"Because when he looks at you, it reminds me of the way I looked at you when we first met."

"And how was that?"

Jude grabbed my hand in his and led me to the table. He sighed. "Like it was all over. Like the girl I was looking at was the one I was going to spend my life with."

"And you don't look at me that way anymore?" I teased.

"I still do, but there's a confidence behind that look now. A confidence because I know you're mine." Jude pulled my chair out for me and moved his mouth closer to my ear. "That guy looks at you with the uncertainty I did at first. When I wasn't sure I could ever have you," he said quietly. "That guy wants you, all right, but I'm going to make damn sure he knows that he will never have you."

"Hey, Tarzan," I said as he took his seat next to me. "Tone it down a notch or ten."



       
         
       
        

He slid me a smile. "You know that's not my style, Luce."

"Then why don't you take a cheeseburger and stuff it in your mouth before you start throwing around any more ass-kicking threats at my boss." I motioned at the tray of burgers Holly was holding out for Jude.

"So, Lucy," Anton said from the other end of the table-positioned so he and Jude could pick up right where they'd left off in their staring contest. "I haven't had a chance to talk with you about this yet, but I was wondering if you'd be able to stay on in the fall once school starts."

Oh, boy.

"Lucy's going to be busy-"

I raised my hand, cutting Jude off. "I can answer for myself, thank you very much."

Jude raised his hand in surrender, clearly amused.

"I'm going to be busy"-I shot Jude a look-"with school. I really piled on the coursework my senior year, and then I'll be going back and forth to San Diego to see Jude a bunch, too."

Jude's hand fell on my knee. "Not as much as I'll be coming back and forth here to see you."

"I could work around your schedule," Anton said as everyone else chewed their dinner in silence. Even LJ knew something was going on. "In just three weeks' time, you've proven to be quite the asset at Xavier Industries. I can't just let you go."

Jude squeezed my knee, more out of irritation than in reassurance.

"I'll double your salary," Anton announced before taking a big bite of his cheeseburger.

Jude opened his mouth, but I wasn't going to let this go any farther without adding my two cents.

"It's not about the money," I said.

Anton arched an eyebrow.

"Well, it's not totally about the money. I just won't have the time. I want to commit to the things in my life that are more important than money," I said, grabbing the ketchup bottle and squirting a glob onto my plate. "Besides, Jude's making boatloads of money. I'm sure he can lend me a few bucks if I need it."

I peered over at Jude. This was a source of discomfort for me, a matter of pride, and admitting to a table of my closest friends that I'd be willing to lean on Jude for financial support made me feel very . . . vulnerable. In the I'm-naked-where's-the-nearest-palm-leaf kind of way.

But taking one glance at Jude's face eased the way I was feeling. He didn't just look happy; he looked relieved. Like I'd just removed a heavy weight from his shoulders. I didn't understand it, but I didn't need to in order to be glad I made him feel that way.

"I thought you liked making your own money. Being independent. Multimillion-dollar fiancé or not." Okay, Anton didn't just have a death wish courtesy of Jude. He had a death wish compliments of Lucy Larson. 

This time it was my hand that moved to Jude's leg, giving it a squeeze.

"That's right. I do like making my own money," I said, wanting to dunk one of my fries in ketchup and sail it across the table at Anton's face. "But if Jude ever needed any of it, that money would be all his. And I think he feels the same way about the money he makes."