Callie
I wasn’t ready to see Jude. Not that day, not with Mary’s shadow already crawling over me like a second skin.
But fate—or bad timing—never cared about readiness.
I was carrying a bag of coffee to my car when his familiar voice came from behind me.
“Callie.”
I froze. Every muscle in my body wanted to keep walking, but I turned slowly. Jude stood a few feet away, leaning against the hood of his truck like he had all the time in the world. He was grinning.
“You have been hard to reach,” he said.
“I have been busy.” My tone was sharp, already tired.
“With him?” His head tilted, his eyes dark with anger, maybe. Or entitlement. “Women are not the only ones who notice things.”
I swallowed, forcing myself not to look away. “That is none of your business, Jude.”
His laugh was low,
