“Joe?”
Her sudden exit had made him feel like absolute crap. Made him wonder if she hadn’t wanted it after all. That perhaps he’d misinterpreted her signals and taken her against her will.
“Joe.”
No, it couldn’t have been that. Her arms had gone around his neck and she’d told him how good he’d made her feel. Then she’d wrapped her legs around his waist just like he’d been fantasizing since the moment he’d seen her, and the sound she’d made as he pushed inside her… She’d been so wet, ready for him. Yeah, she’d wanted him.
“Joe!”
Shit. Jude. He’d been zoning out again. “What?”
Jude looked long-suffering. “Lunch, remember?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Let’s go.” Cursing himself inwardly, Joseph closed down the chat window.
He had to stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about her. She was gone. In any case, even if he did want to see her again he didn’t know her name and had no way of contacting her apart from her chat handle. But he didn’t want to see her again. One night was enough. Any more than that and he ended up bored and restless, and that wasn’t fair. Not her fault he’d been built for casual, not permanent. That the ADHD didn’t allow him anything more, at least not without a fair amount of emotional heartache on both sides. No, these days he stuck to women who were after the same thing—no point in deliberately hurting someone.
Someone like Naughtygirl.
Yeah. Exactly.
They went to his favorite café, a tiny place down on the waterfront that had a view of the busy port—he did like to watch the container ships unloading. It gave him something concentrate on when he felt his focus slip.
“So,” he said as the waitress took their order. “The exhibition went well, huh?”
His sister pushed back the neat, black wings of her short, bobbed hair. “Yeah. It went really well. I sold at least twenty pictures.”
“Wow, that’s incredible, Jude.” And it was. She’d worked really hard to get her first exhibition up and going. He was so proud of her.
She frowned. “You were quite distracted, though. More than normal, I thought. Was it to do with your date?”
“No,” he lied, fiddling with one of the sachets of sugar on the table.
Jude raised an eyebrow, seeing through the lie instantly. “Don’t be an idiot. What happened?”
“Nothing. It just didn’t work out.”
“What? Losing your touch, Mr. Slick?”
“She wasn’t my type.” And she wasn’t. Not in any way, shape, or form.
Jude rolled her eyes. “You mean she wasn’t blonde and built like Big Bust Barbie?”
“Whoa, stereotyping much?” His leg jogged, impatience with his sister’s assessment of his tastes eating away at him.
“That’s not the point and you know it.”
“Then what is the point?” He folded the sugar sachet in half, making sure it didn’t tear. “Stop making snide comments and just say it.”
She pursed her lips, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. “I get worried about you. You’re my big brother and I hate seeing you so lonely.”
Lonely? What the hell was she talking about? He wasn’t lonely. He had friends coming out of his freaking ears. “I’m not bloody lone—”
“No, don’t say it. I can’t bear the denials. I’m just telling you what I see and that’s a guy surrounded by admirers and colleagues who respect him, but who doesn’t have a single person in his life who doesn’t care about his money or his success or his looks.” She raised a brow. “If you don’t count Caleb and Luke of course, and since Caleb is in the UK and Luke is even more of a workaholic than you are, I don’t.”
Joseph gritted his teeth, dropped the folded-up sugar packet, and grabbed a napkin instead. “I gotta tell you I’m okay with my money, my success, and my looks.”
But the expression in his sister’s eyes had become almost…sad. “You say you are. But I don’t think that’s true. Not really.”
The waitress came over with their coffees at that point, giving him a moment to contain his shock at her soft statement.
Shit, what did she know? He loved his little sister but she had no idea. None at all. He liked the respect he got. He liked the success. He liked the money. All the things he hadn’t had after he’d dropped out of school at fifteen. All the things no one had expected from him.
And he was happy with where he was. He was freaking ecstatic.
He grabbed a couple of sugars, dumped them in his espresso, and stirred. “So what are you trying to tell me? That I need a girl who loves me for who I am on the inside?” He didn’t hold back on the sarcasm.