Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (10 page)

“No. I don’t think that’s what this is. Looks like more of a bribe than an apology. Besides, he didn’t say he was sorry in the note,” I remind him, holding up the card.

“Oh, come on, Teddy. Don’t pretend that you aren’t at least a tiny bit interested.”

I open my mouth to respond, but when I go to speak, the lie that I’m
not
gets stuck in the back of my throat. The truth is, I still remember the way he looked at me. And the flowers?

Thinking of you, Judah.

I’m officially flattered.

Geoff arches a single eyebrow before folding his arms across his chest. “Remember what we talked about?” I frown at him, not wanting to admit that I do. “Freckles, you can go out with him and not sleep with him. There’s nothing wrong with giving him a chance. Maybe you’ll like him.” I scrunch my face at him, curious about his logic. “If nothing else,” he continues, “you’ll get to stare at the man while enjoying a free meal. That alone is worth the risk of finding out that he really is just a jerk.”

I breathe in deeply and exhale slowly, not at all sure about what I want. “I don’t know, Geoff.”

“Well—you have to call him.”

“
What?
” I ask, flabbergasted.

“Baby girl, those flowers deserve a phone call. At the very
least
.”

“I—I—I, but I…”

He snatches the cards from out of my hand and reaches around me for my phone. Before I can stop him, he’s dialing Judah’s number. I try to fight him, tugging at his arms, which he holds above my head, but he’s stronger than me. When he presses the phone to my ear, it’s already ringing. My mouth hangs open in shock and horror as I glare at him. I’m just about to call him something foul when a deep voice that makes me weak at the knees fills my ear.

“This is Jude.”

My glare disappears as my eyes grow wide in panic. Geoffrey grins at me before signaling that I speak.

“Um, hi,” I manage.

A beat of silence passes between us.

“Teddy?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” My heart is beating a mile a minute, and my stomach feels like there are a thousand little butterflies dying to be set free.

“You received my gift.”

“Yeah. I mean,
yes
. They’re beautiful,” I say, willing myself to sound like a human being capable of speech.

Geoffrey nods at me, taking my hand and bringing it up to the phone, encouraging me to hold it myself. I obey. But instead of leaving my side, he sits right next to me and leans in close.

“I wanted to call and say thank you.”

“It was my pleasure. May I ask if you have reconsidered my dinner invitation?”

“Uh…I’m—I’m thinking about it,” I reply nervously.

He chuckles and my breath catches in the back of my throat.

“What must I do to convince you, Teddy? I fear I won’t be able to get you off my mind until you say yes.”

I can’t help it. I smile, a blush heating my cheeks.

“Nothing, Judah—you’ve been generous enough. I just need to think about it.”

“Very well. I’ll be waiting.”

“Okay.”

“Fair warning, Ms. Fitzpatrick, I’m not a very patient man—especially when it comes to a woman as beautiful as you. Have a good afternoon, Teddy.”

He hangs up without another word, and I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at it blankly. For a minute, I don’t have any words. The man turns me upside down. I don’t even know him, and yet he makes my heart race and my palms sweat after a two-minute telephone conversation. I can’t explain it. It’s as if my attraction to him supersedes all reason. That in and of itself should be a red flag, but I can’t deny that a small part of me
is
interested—even if just for one night,
one
meal.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I feel Geoffrey’s lips press against my temple. “Baby girl, you’re letting that man take you to dinner if I have to drag you kicking and screaming.”

I
wake up seven minutes before my alarm clock and smile, happy that I can turn the thing off before it makes a sound. The sun is already up, fighting its way into my bedroom through the thin curtains that cover my window. Knowing that I have a full Saturday ahead of me, I don’t linger in bed. I stand, stretch, and head straight for my coffee pot.

I stop dead in my tracks when I reach the mouth of my kitchen. I’m not quite sure how, but I forgot about the flowers I brought home yesterday—the bouquet making my one-butt kitchen look even smaller than it already is. Unlike the vibrant arrangement that still sits at work, this one is full of muted colors: pale pink peonies, white roses, and light yellow gerbera daises. I press my lips together, fighting a smile as I inch my way further into the room.

After starting my morning brew, I reach for the card that was delivered with the flowers late yesterday afternoon.

I pinch my bottom lip between my fingers, propping my hip against the counter as I stare at his handwriting. In spite of his gorgeous gift, I haven’t responded yet. Regardless of how it might seem, I’m not trying to string him along.
I’m not.
But there seems to be a little bit of a discrepancy between the man who approached me in the gallery and the man with impeccable taste in floral arrangements.

He told me he was a gentleman, and the flowers actually support that argument. However, he made it very clear that he has an interest in sleeping with me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, I can’t deny that a man as gorgeous as him showing interest in me makes my insides tingle. But if his end game is simply to forge his way between my legs, I’m certainly not up for that.

Then again, there is a small chance that there’s more to him than meets the eye. I’ve never met anyone who was so adamant about taking me to dinner before. A part of me is curious to know what it is he sees in me. A part of me wants to know if he’d want more of me after an evening of conversation.

Moreover—would I want more of him?

I think back to Geoffrey’s little speech in the supply closet a couple days ago. He’s right, and it’s time I admit it. I can’t shy away from all romantic relationships from fear that they’ll end the same way things ended between Justin and me. All men aren’t monsters. And while I’m sure there’s a little bit of darkness in all of us, not everyone chooses to let it reign over the light that we also carry.

I can’t deny the hope that I harbor in my heart—the hope that I’ll one day find a man that I want to share my life with. I’m under no illusion that Judah is
the one
, but I won’t find him hiding behind my camera lens, or work, or my best friend.

Dropping Judah’s note on the counter, I leave the kitchen in search of my phone. I’m in my room only long enough to pick up the device and unplug it from its charger. On my way back to the kitchen, I scroll through my
recent calls
and find the one number not saved to my contacts. Before I can change my mind, I hit
dial
.

I close my eyes tight, my stomach clenched in anxiety as I listen to the ring tone, wondering if he’ll answer. It isn’t until the third ring that I realize it’s before nine in the morning on a Saturday. He could be sleeping! For a moment, I panic that I’ll wake him up—but then I breathe a sigh of relief when I’m dropped into his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Judah St. Michaels. I’m currently unavailable. Please leave a message.”

Hearing his voice makes my skin break out in goose bumps. I take a deep breath at the sound of the beep, willing myself to be brave—
to be bold.

“Hi, Judah. It’s Teddy. Um, I’m sorry to call you so early on a Saturday. I probably should have called you last night to thank you for the flowers, but—actually, I don’t have a good excuse for why I didn’t. Uh—” I smack my palm against my forehead and shake my head at myself. I’m
babbling
on the man’s voicemail.
Great
. “Um, so, I’m calling now because, well—I’ll go out with you, okay? That is, if you’re still interested. I guess you could have changed your mind between yesterday and today, in which case, you can totally ignore this message.”

I pull my phone away from my ear and end the call immediately. I let out a huge sigh as I stare at the display, evidence that that
really
just happened. I called Judah and left a voicemail that made me sound like pre-pubescent teenager.

“Shit,” I groan.

I open up my text messages and tap on Geoffrey’s thread.

Me:
I’m an idiot!!!!!

I toss my phone onto the counter and reach for a clean mug. Before I have a chance to grab the full coffee pot, I receive a text response.

Geoff:
I doubt it. What’s up?

Me:
I called Judah. Before coffee. OMG! I left the most spaz-tastic vm!

Geoff:
Did you tell him yes?

Me:
Did you not hear me? BEFORE coffee! It was a disaster!

Geoff:
Did you say yes?

Me:
…yes. But that’s not the point!

Geoff:
Proud of you.

Geoff:
You’re not a spaz.

Geoff:
Drink your coffee.

I smile in spite of myself, annoyed but not surprised at the way he calmed me down in two minutes flat. Though I still feel mortified over my recent word vomit, Geoffrey’s right about one thing—I do need to drink my coffee. Besides, I can’t take the message back. Now all I can do is wait.

Suddenly, I’m that much more grateful my sister will be in town today. I could use the distraction.

I arrive at the golf course fifteen minutes before the top of the hour. As I turn into the parking lot, I spot Benjamin pulling his clubs from the trunk of his BMW X5. He’s in a pair of navy shorts and a striped T-shirt. I chuckle to myself, remembering how much he appreciates getting a little sun. Sometimes, I swear, the kid was meant to be a beach bum. With his blonde hair and blue eyes, I’m sure he’d fit right in. Of course, every time I say as much, he’s quick to remind me of his fear of the ocean.

My phone rings in my pocket just as I’m climbing out of my vehicle, but I ignore it as I go to greet my brother. “Pretty boy—you ready to get your ass handed to you this morning?”