His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,7

bit back, stricken. “You could have stayed thousands of miles from home, wasting your time on a wild goose chase.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, voice muffled. “I didn’t mean that.”

Jude crossed the room and pulled her into a hug she barely resisted. “Me either. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s just… this place isn’t how I remember, that’s all.” Even the seascape on the wall over her shoulder looked new, wild splashes of oil paint somehow mirroring the inner storm he felt imagining his parents’ final moments. How the artist had conjured a storm with so few brushstrokes was impressive, and most probably as expensive as hiring a chef like Rob must be. “Why’d you hire him?”

Louise’s back stiffened under his hands. “I didn’t exactly hire him, but I had to do something.” Her swallow was audible. “If there was going to be a business here by the time you got done looking for…. Well, I had to do something; make some big changes to the business. I had to.”

Jude said, “Okay, okay,” even though her response was far from the reality of this business, as he knew it. The minute the summer tourists arrived for their greasy breakfasts before spending the rest of the day on the beach, the pub would have broken even like usual. Jude kissed her temple and then cupped her small chin in his hand, her skin paper-white against his. “Let’s sleep. We’ll talk in a few hours, although…” he tried to tease like they used to. “I’m not sure how I’ll cope with sleeping in this level of luxury. I’m more used to tiny crew quarters, or sleeping on deck lately. We save beds like this for clients.” Even then, the staterooms hadn’t been this spacious, the Aphrodite at the smaller end of the luxury sailing charter market.

“Well, you’re not sleeping in this stateroom either. Not when I’m living in hope of getting some paying guests soon.” Louise grabbed his hand, maybe still fearing that he might drift. She led him along the hallway. “I switched all the rooms around to maximise what I can charge for them. You can have the pullout mattress from under my bed until we sort out where you’ll sleep from now on.” Her next yawn was massive. Jude pulled out the trundle while she found some spare bedding. “I’m knackered. You better not still snore.”

“That was always you, not me.” It was so easy to fall into the childhood bickering he’d perfected on sailing trips over the years to distract Louise from her seasickness.

He lay down. Louise blinked owlishly at him. “I’m glad you’re home, Jude.”

“Me too. Although I’m sorry to spoil your summer plans with your new love—” he made air quotes “—famous fine-dining chef, Rob Martin.”

“Shut up,” she laughed. “You’re just jealous because he won that contest.” Then she added, quieter, “Rob said you would have if you’d stayed. Won it, I mean. Besides, he’s not my new love.”

“No?” Jude asked, breath caught behind his ribs, not sure how to continue a conversation that might expose part of his life that he’d kept separate from home. “You sure?” Jude probed, remembering the way Rob had shifted over in bed as if used to sharing space with his sister. Rob could be bi, after all; the society pages of the Sunday papers had papped him with plenty of women. “You do like him though?”

“Of course I do.” Louise’s arm dangled from the side of her bed to prod at him as if checking that he truly was there. “But not that way. I’m not his type.”

“No?” This turn in the conversation couldn’t be worse. If Jude hadn’t been dead on his feet, he’d think of a way to change the subject; steer it away from dangerous rocks he’d spent years navigating.

Louise squeezed his hand as she proved Jude wrong, the conversation worsening more than he ever imagined. “I don’t think he’s ready,” she said around her next yawn.

“Ready for what?”

“To fall in love again,” Louise murmured. “Not after his heart got so badly broken, last time.”

3

Jude woke knowing that something was wrong. Very wrong. The Aphrodite was far too still in the water, not even a gentle rock beneath him. There wasn’t the creak of guests above his head either, taking in the view on deck before he served their breakfast.

Shit.

Breakfast.

He sat, disorientated all over again by not seeing the snug confines of his quarters. No, this was a room his mum used to let out