Burning Love (8 page)
“Yeah, well, your ‘strong, confident Jude’ nearly killed himself on the aerial ladder today.”
“We will figure something out.”
He waved his hands toward the door. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She left, and he slumped down in his recliner. Now he couldn’t even get a good pity party going without thinking about disappointing Michaela, not being the man she believed him to be. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he slept more, the hole in his chest where his identity used to live might close up a little.
The next time Jude rose to consciousness, the sun blinded him. Squinting at the clock, he groaned. Six in the morning, and it didn’t appear he’d be getting any more sleep. What had woken him, though?
His cell phone chirped and he remembered turning it back on out of guilt after Hurricane Michaela had left. As he clutched his head, he remembered why he never drank more than one or two beers. Hangovers were a bitch.
Reaching over, he picked up the phone. A text message.
Hi. I’m a friend of Leo’s. I represent fitness talent—basically models, but with a few differences. He showed me your calendar page, and I’d like to talk
.
Below the first text came another with his name and phone number. Was this guy serious? And who the fuck texted people at six in the morning?
The phone beeped again.
Shit. Sorry. I’m in London on a business trip and totally spaced on the time difference. Hope I didn’t wake you. Call me soon, please
.
Tossing the phone on the table, Jude went to the bathroom to scrub the fuzziness out of his mouth. He’d need to remember in the future how much he hated hangovers. That hadn’t crossed his mind when he’d decided drinking would help ease the pain.
He waited a couple of hours, flipping through the channels endlessly, until the time arrived that it didn’t seem patently cruel to call someone. : He started with Lyle so he could get the whole picture before he called this guy back.
“Anderson, here.”
“Hey man, it’s Jude.”
His friend’s voice instantly took on that note of pity Jude despised so much. “How are you, bud?”
“Wonderful. No idea what I’m gonna do with the rest of my life, but other than that, no complaints.” He tried hard to keep the extra edge of bitterness out of his tone, but he knew Lyle would understand. “Anyway, I called because I had a couple of text messages from some dude about the calendar.”
“Yeah, I gave Leo your number to give to him. I, um, was gonna call you yesterday to okay it with you, but….”
Jude sighed. “That’s fine. Do you know anything about this guy?”
He could almost see Lyle’s shrug over the phone. “Just that he’s gotten Leo some good deals. Seems like an okay guy. Leo trusts him, so that says something to me right there.”
Marines didn’t tend to be overly trusting, in Jude’s experience, so Lyle had a point. “I’ll give him a call. Why the hell not?”
“Hey, you might as well work that pretty face while you’ve got it.”
“Yeah, whatever. Later.” He hung up and looked at the number he’d scrawled on a pad.
The call went through with a crackle and Jude waited, curious despite himself.
“Mason Douglas, at your service.”
“Um, Jude Fisher, calling you back.”
“Jude!” The man said his name like he was a long-lost prodigal son, and Jude resisted rolling his eyes. “Thank you for calling me back. Great shot in the calendar. Were you happy with it?”
“Sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about?”
“Exactly. You speak to the camera, Jude, and I need some guys like that.”
“Speak to the camera?”
“Yes. Some models—there’s just nothing there. It’s like you’re staring at dead air. Then there are other models, like what I saw on your face in the calendar, who look like you’re daring us to come talk to you, or screw with you, or whatever. Very powerful stuff.”
Was this guy blowing smoke up Jude’s ass? Only one way to find out.
“Thank you. I enjoyed doing it. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’d like to represent you. I want to see you in full color on the covers of
Men’s Health, GQ
….” the guy’s voice trailed on and Jude wondered if he would have been able to see the stars—or dollar signs—in the man’s eyes if he had been standing in front of him.
Jude rubbed the back of his neck. “
GQ
?”
“Oh yes. The world of the fitness model has exploded.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Look, I can tell I’ve overwhelmed you.”
Jude snorted. “Just a little.”
“Go on my Web site. Read the testimonials both from clients and from casting agents. Ask Leo about me. He’s worked with me. If you’re interested in pursuing this, give me a call.”
“One thing.”
“Yes?”
“You know I’m,” he searched for the right word, and not finding one, spoke through clenched teeth, “crippled, right?”
“Leo told me about your accident. It won’t be a problem.”
He scoffed. “How can it not be a problem? I’ve got scar tissue all over my leg.”
“So we won’t do anything that would show your leg.”
“And it’s as easy as that.”
“It really is.”
Jude chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Is there money to be made in doing this? If I decided I wanted to?”
“As long as you keep up your end of the bargain and stay in top form, yes. You let yourself go,” Jude glanced at the carnage of snacks before him with a guilty eye, “and they’ll move on to another guy. You’ve got a good look. Clean cut. All-American. Advertisers love that shit.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Look at the Web site.”
“Okay.” Wasn’t like he had any better prospects.
After getting off the phone, Jude fired up his laptop and went to the guy’s site. True to his word, there were dozens of testimonials, both from people he’d represented and some pretty big-name companies, too. Jude’s nature ran toward the suspicious, but no red flags were raised from this guy, other than that his stupid leg wouldn’t matter, which he found hard to believe in a freaking fitness model.
Sitting back, Jude thought about the time he’d spent in the studio—before the dressing incident—and smiled as he remembered the look on Michaela’s face when she’d looked up at him. He’d had fun during the shoot. Maybe not all photographers were as cool as Pedro but, really, how bad could it be? Standing around flexing his muscles all day didn’t sound like a bad way to make a living. If he could make a living doing it.
It was money, if Mason could find him any work. And right now, Jude couldn’t afford to be too picky about how the income came in. He called Mason back. His next call was to Michaela.
“Hello?”
“Michaela? Hey, it’s Jude.”
“Hey, Jude.” She giggled and he rolled his eyes.
“Ha-ha. Yeah, I’ve never heard that one before.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Hung over as fuck. But listen, if I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh. Wait, do you have a second? Shit, you’re at the café, aren’t you? I’m sorry—”
“Jude.”
“Yeah?”
“I have a minute. But only a minute, so spit it out.”
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “I got a call from a talent agent and he’s gonna try to get me some fitness modeling jobs.”
“Oh my God, Jude, that’s great!”
“I only just talked to him. He might not even be able to do anything.”
Michaela made a derisive noise. Her voice dropped. “I’ve seen the goods, baby, and they’d have to be nuts to pass you up.”
“So you don’t think it’s weird?”
“Why would it be weird?”
He blew out a breath. “It’s just so different from fighting fires. This feels….frivolous.”
“So what if it is? You can have some fun and make money while you decide what you want to do next.”
“When you put it that way….”
She laughed. “Come by the café. Maybe around three? I want to give you a congratulatory kiss.”
“How about a congratulatory blowjob in your office like last time?”
“Don’t push your luck. One time only, bud.”
“I’ll be there.”
He hung up and actually reached up to trace the stupid little smile on his face. Who would’ve thought when he slipped on that ladder that his entire life hadn’t gone to shit?
A couple of hours later, he wandered into Sweetness Seventeen. It wasn’t packed at this time of the afternoon, but he could definitely detect a buzz he didn’t remember being there before.
Gina saw him first and waved. “I’ll go get Michaela. Have a seat, stud.” With her elbow she indicated the counter before bustling into the kitchen, her arms laden with dirty dishes.
Michaela appeared minutes later. “Hey, hon. Come back with me?”
“Sure.” He rose and followed her back to her office.
She closed the door and turned to him, waggling her finger at his expression. “I said a kiss, remember. And besides, I have something else I want to talk to you about.”
“One kiss. I promise.” With that, he swept Michaela into his arms and sank into bliss. They came up for air some moments later. “Man, I’ve missed that.”
“Me, too.”
“Better make sure I get a good imprint.” Jude kissed her again. He couldn’t resist. Finally they broke the kiss once more, both of them panting.
“Oh, your shirt.” She swiped at the flour now caked onto the front of his black T-shirt.
“You keep doing that. You just want to see me shirtless.”
Michaela shrugged, grinning. “It’s a great view.”
“Apparently you’re not the only one who thinks so. Mason already called me back. I have some audition thingy next week in New York City. They’re flying me down, paying all my expenses. What if I don’t get the job? Do I have to pay them back?”
“Already? Wow, that was quick. And no, I’m sure they wouldn’t expect you to reimburse them.”
“This guy has some great connections. I called Leo, you know, that dude who had the idea for the calendar in the first place?” Michaela nodded. “And he talked the man up and down.”
“That’s great. I’m thrilled for you. Just make sure you beat all those women off. I don’t want to have to come after them with my marble rolling pin.”
He winced. “Ouch.”
“Are you sure you’re, um, good, with us? I mean, if you want to keep your options open…?”
“What options?”
“For women.”
“Hey.” He grabbed her chin and forced her gaze to his. “I have no intention of optioning anything. I’m with you.”
“If you’re positive.”
“Completely.” Where was this coming from?
Jude stepped back to get out of touching range and lessen the temptation to take Michaela to the moon. “You said you had something you wanted to discuss?”
Her entire face lit up and he relaxed.
Maybe the crisis of confidence is over
. “Yes. I’m so excited. Gina became a full partner today!”
“Wow, that’s awesome.” He gave her a quick hug and smiled down at her. Jude knew he was falling fast. Yes, their road hadn’t been easy and they might struggle navigating this new relationship, but he wanted to try. Michaela was worth it. Maybe things were finally coming together for him.
“I had no idea she was interested in getting more involved from a monetary stake. But it comes at a good time. Cash flow is challenging right now, and her infusion will really help things.”
He raised a hand and cupped her face. “Maybe that’ll leave you more time for,” he dropped his voice to a sultry murmur, “other pursuits.”
Michaela rolled her eyes. “Yes, it might.”
“I wish you could go with me to this thing next week.”
“You do?” Her face registered surprise and, truth be told, Jude had surprised himself, too.
He stopped for a moment, thought about it, and nodded. “Yeah, I do. We’ve got something, and I don’t intend to let you slip through my fingers. I was serious when I said I wasn’t interested in options.” He ran the tips of said fingers over her lips, and she grabbed his hand, kissing each one.
“I’m not going anywhere, so I guess you’re stuck.”
“I am. New York.”
They laughed and then Michaela bounced. Jude found it awfully hard to concentrate when she did that. “Let’s go toast to new beginnings.”
“Sounds good to me, but what do you say to a private celebration later?”
Michaela bit her lip. “It’s Friday.”
“Dinner service. Got it. Just don’t forget.” He waggled his eyebrows and she chuckled.
“Come on. I think I’ve got some champagne in the walk-in.”
A moment later, Jude, Michaela, and Gina had glasses of bubbly. Gina toasted. “To new beginnings.”
Jude and Michaela shared a look.
“To new beginnings.”
Cassandra Carr is a multi-award winning erotic romance writer with Ellora's Cave, Siren Publishing, Sybarite Seductions/Twenty or Less Press, Decadent Publishing, and Loose Id. She lives in Western New York with her husband, Inspiration, and her daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not writing she enjoys watching hockey and hanging out online. Cassandra is the co-founder of two successful group blogs, Romancing the Jock and Dirty Birdies, and participates in several others as a contributor. Recently she was re-elected president of Western New York Romance Writers.
For more information about Cassandra, check out her website at
www.booksbycassandracarr.com
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Unfortunately, she doesn’t know any men that fit the profile. Not until Patrick Brogan—her late fiance’s brother—turns up in New York. Seeing him brings up all kinds of memories, but she’s determined to push them aside and persuade him to take part in the calendar. But is that all he’ll take part in?
