The Posse (8 page)

Now, standing at the window,
watching the swirl of twilight waves, he pondered his next move.
The early morning jogs and stops at the Tide had been part of the
groundwork he was laying, sure, but it was also feeding a need he
had, just to be around Jude, to talk with her. He had been
reassured when she reported on her dinner with Matt, even more so
when she fixed him up with her friend, but on the other hand, she
had been shocked at the idea of having a dating relationship with
Matt.

Was it because of Matt
himself, or was she not interested in anyone at all? Logan couldn’t
be sure. When she had nearly flown into his arms at the Tide the
night of her matchmaker dinner, he had lost his breath. Her dark
hair damp, falling around her shoulders in tendrils as she ran down
the steps had taken him back years.

And just before she kissed
his cheek, he almost thought he had seen something in her
eyes...Logan shook his head. Sooner or later, he would have to do
something more than just hang around her. Matt might be out of the
picture now—Jude had gleefully reported that he and Sandra had seen
each other almost every night of the past two weeks since their
meeting—but there was still Cooper.

Cooper with two marriages
under his belt, and a teenaged daughter Jude had taken under her
wing. That would be an in for him. Cooper, who, at Jude’s
matchmaking dinner, had said something that flustered her, had her
blushing.

Logan sighed and sank into
the chair that sat by his drafting table. Yeah, it was getting to
be time to make his move.

Only he wasn’t exactly sure
what that move was.

***

After Daniel died, Jude had worried a
little about being lonely. She pictured long empty evenings, nights
in front of the television, solitary meals at a silent kitchen
table.

But so far, that had not
materialized. In fact, she was so surrounded by company and
activity that it was beginning to wear on her nerves. She didn’t
like turning people down, so she agreed to an afternoon of shopping
in Daytona with Janet. And then an evening at some author’s reading
at a nearby independent bookstore with Samantha. Dinner with Matt
and Sandra, who insisted that she had brought them together, and
they wanted to thank her.

Between her friends padding
her social calendar, her kids calling to check on her, and the
normal hustle and bustle of the Riptide, Jude didn’t have a moment
to hear herself think.

So on Thursday night, she
convinced Mack and Sadie to go home before she locked up by telling
them she was staying in town for a little while for a business
meeting. As much as she hated lying to anyone, especially to the
couple who had been like second parents to her, she knew it was the
only ploy that would work. If she told them that she was planning
to stay late to give the kitchen a deep cleaning, they would insist
on staying with her the whole time.

Once she watched them drive
away, Jude let out a long sigh of relief. She had already turned
the sign to ‘Closed’ and switched on the outside lights, as though
she were leaving. From the back room, she pulled out a basket of
rags, a mop, bucket and a tote full of cleaning products.

“How sad am I?” she
muttered, half-amused and half-horrified that the prospect of an
evening of cleaning was making her nearly giddy.

She changed the radio
station to the weekly ‘80s flashback show, cranked up the volume,
pulled on rubber gloves and launched a full-force attack on the
grill.

Logan liked routine, and his hadn’t
changed much in the years since he’d built his beach house. He left
the office and drove over the bridge to come home. Twice a week, he
stopped at the grocery store to buy food for dinners. On Mondays,
he left early enough to pick up his dry cleaning and pressed shirts
before the cleaners closed. Occasionally, if he were invited to a
friend’s house for dinner or if he had another social engagement,
the routine could vary. But most weeks, it didn’t.

After Daniel got sick, Logan
had changed up things a little. Once he crossed the bridge, he cut
down two side streets so that he could drive past Jude and Daniel’s
house, make sure everything was all right. Just seeing the lights
on in the right places was somehow comforting. On the days when the
lights weren’t on, he’d know something had come up, and more likely
than not, Daniel was in the hospital. Again.

Now, of course, no movement
in the house just meant that Jude was out, and most of the time,
Logan knew where she was. The posse was close enough that word
traveled fast, and it wasn’t unusual for Mark or Eric to let slip
if one of their wives had plans with Jude, or if something else
happened to be going on.

The house pass was followed
by a detour that led him to Beach Street, where he checked out the
Riptide. On weeknights, the parking lot was usually empty, with
only the security lights still burning. Fridays were a different,
of course, but he still made certain that Jude’s car had vacated
its normal spot, meaning that Emmy had taken over. Since Jude
typically followed her own routine, it was reassuring on a very
basic level to know that she was safe.

So when Logan drove past her
house that Thursday, he was only a little surprised to see just one
light in the kitchen. He assumed her car was safely in the garage
where it belonged, and that Jude herself was probably there in the
kitchen. 

But as he made the pass by
the Tide, he frowned. Jude’s car was still in the lot, and he could
see lights throughout the restaurant, as if it were still open. He
pulled in and parked next to her beat up compact—though Daniel had
tried to convince her to buy a newer model, Jude claimed it was
pointless to have a new car when she lived at the beach.

He saw the ‘Closed’ sign on
the door as he approached, but then he heard something. Logan
cocked his head. It sounded like...drums. Loud drums. And a woman’s
voice.

He tried the door handle. He
wasn’t surprised that it was unlocked; Jude was notorious for not
locking doors. As he stepped into the empty restaurant, the music
assaulted his senses. The drums pounded in his chest, and his ears
rang.

Across the room, he spied
Jude. She hadn’t heard him come in, and no wonder. Logan took
advantage of the chance to watch her, unseen.

Her hair was up in its
typical ponytail, and it swung in time with her movements. She was
wearing jean shorts and a deep green t-shirt, with the rounded
neckline she usually favored. She swung her hips and arms in time
to the drums.  And she was singing at the top of her lungs
along with Sheila E.

Logan was transfixed,
watching her denim-covered rear wiggle and gyrate. The shirt had
ridden up a little on her back, and he could see a small slice of
tanned skin. His fingers itched to touch it, and he clenched his
fist to keep from reaching out, as if somehow he could from this
distance.

As she spun and shimmied, he
was suddenly back in high school, standing down at the old pavilion
where the summer dances were held.  Every Saturday night, the
whole posse met at the Riptide and walked down the beach toward the
sound of the music. A different business sponsored the dance each
week, so they never knew what the decorations would be: one
Saturday it might be sea shells and shimmery green bunting, while
another there might be album covers and ads from the local record
store. 

Regardless, the dances drew
most of the teens in the Cove. Everyone brought blankets, and as
the evening wore on, couples would drift away from the lights and
music, returning some time later, often disheveled and slightly
sandy. But Daniel and Jude were seldom among those, only because
Jude adored dancing. She didn’t wanted to miss even one song, and
if Daniel begged off, she had no compunction about pulling another
one of the posse in to join her.

Remembering, he moved toward
her now, pulling loose his tie as he went. The music muffled his
steps, and he might have reached her entirely undetected, except
that Jude chose that moment to execute a perfect spin.

She saw him, and her hand
flew to her throat. She screeched in shock, and for a moment, Logan
thought she might pass out. He knew the minute surprise was
superceded by annoyance, but before she could say anything, he
stuck out one hand.

“Dance with me?”

Jude’s face melted into a
smile as she took his hand. Logan spun her once, and then simply
held her hand, moving in synchronicity to her steps and swings as
Sheila E. continued to tout the benefits of a glamorous life.

After a few moments, the
drums gave way to the more mellow guitar of Madonna’s
Crazy For
You
. Logan pulled Jude close, wrapping his other arm around her
back, just he had wanted to do over twenty years before. In those
days, when the music slowed, Jude always turned away, her eyes
searching for Daniel until he found her on the dance floor.

But tonight, her wide green
eyes fastened on Logan’s. For a moment, he feared she might pull
away; confusion and a hint of trepidation clouded her face. Then
she relaxed and rested her forehead against his shoulder, slipping
her hand around to press against his back.

Logan wondered if she could
hear the pounding of his heart. How many years had this been his
dream? All through high school, definitely. Even when he had known
that Jude would always love Daniel, that he would come first in
heart for the rest of their lives, he had still dreamed. He had
never betrayed how he felt in any way. He had stood up for them at
their wedding as Daniel’s best man, offered the toast, kissed the
bride on her cheek. He’d been there for first Meghan’s birth and
then Joseph’s.

He hadn’t been obsessed with
Jude all those years. He had had lived a full life and had several
relationships, because he knew that being in love with his best
friend’s one true love and wife was an untenable situation. So at
some point, he had simply decided to stop.

But now here they were. Jude
was in his arms, swaying with him. He could feel the heat of her
breath against his chest, her fingers moving absently over his
shirt, her other hand small and fragile in his. Desire rose, and
Logan swallowed, hard.

He knew he should leave it
alone. Enjoy the dance, revel in the feel of her against him, and
for now at least, leave it at that.

Almost of its own volition,
his hand moved up her back, skimming over her neck. He stopped
moving and laid his fingers against her cheek, pulling back so he
could see her. His eyes moved down to her lips, and he tilted up
her chin. He had just begun to lean down toward her when her eyes
flew open and she stepped back.

“Logan...” His name escaped
her on a breath, but in it he heard the rejection.

Forcing a smile, he rubbed
her arm before releasing her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.
I saw the lights, and I just stopped to make sure you were okay.
When I saw you dancing--” He looked away. “I was thinking of the
pavilion dances. Remember?”

Jude licked her lips and
wrapped her arms around her stomach. He felt her discomfort, but
his desire was stronger, and he had to step even farther away to
lean against the counter.

“Of course I remember them.
We used to have so much fun.” Jude walked to the radio and turned
it down. “You must think I’m crazy, dancing in an empty restaurant
by myself.”

“No, but what
are
you
doing here? By yourself?”

She rolled her eyes. “That
was kind of the point. I haven’t had very much quiet time lately,
and I just wanted to be by myself. I’m cleaning the kitchen.” She
indicated the pile of rags on the floor.

“Well, obviously that was
what you were doing when I came in.” Logan decided a little teasing
was the way to go. Shift the focus, take the pressure off Jude. It
worked, and she smiled.