The next day, I’m sitting on my back porch enjoying a coffee and some sunshine when Jude’s green pickup drives around back. Like the customary nightmares weren’t enough, I’m now graced with dreams of Jude and the mysterious blonde. Why can’t I stop thinking about who she is to Jude?
I don’t like feeling conflicted, but that’s how I suddenly feel around Jude. I think we need to cool it.
Standing, I straighten out my dress and lean on the railing, making no attempt to greet him downstairs. He jumps from the pickup and reaches for a toolbox in the back. He waves when he sees me watching him. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I reply. Images of the nymph float to the surface, and I can’t help but scowl. “Whatcha doing?”
He holds up his toolbox with a slanted grin. “I’m here to fix your pipes. I h
