Truth or Dare Page 12

  “Yes, very.” Thoughts of Jude invaded her mind, and she couldn’t help but compare him to the man sitting across from her, chewing thoughtfully and staring at her.

  Both extremely handsome men, Jude’s dark wildness contrasted with Luke’s blond, boy-next-door qualities like night and day. Luke wanted her dreams to fit into his, modifying them so far from recognition as to lose all legitimacy. Jude was doing stupid shit to make her dreams come true, even if it meant introducing her to his beautiful, shrewish ex-girlfriend. In bed, Luke was attentive, if not uncreative. Jude was … insatiable, wild, and exactly everything she hadn’t known she wanted. He pushed her boundaries, and Annette loved every minute of it. During their days at the cabin, he’d listened to her speak and actually engaged in conversation, a lovely give and take she hadn’t had with Luke in years. Luke hadn’t heard the words coming out of her mouth since she was in junior high.

  She had to stop thinking like this. She was in Pamona Gulch for her fresh start, her career. She loved her family, but this lunch was exactly the reminder she needed of why she’d left. It was homey, comfortable, and warm, but it wasn’t what she wanted for herself.

  She didn’t know what she wanted, but this wasn’t it, and thoughts of Jude were only muddling everything. Just then, her mother did her thing, reinforcing everything she’d been feeling about living here and the move to Pamona Gulch.

  “Sweetheart, after lunch is cleared away, why don’t you and Luke take a little drive and catch up?”

  Her mother never listened to her, insistent on her own wants instead of Annette’s. She meant well, but it was all misplaced. Nobody seemed to care what Annette needed, or wanted, and they were unapologetic about it all. Expectations weighed so heavily on her, suffocating her from the inside out.

  “No.” The one word came out loudly in the suddenly silent room, echoing around the dining area, bouncing off her family’s shocked faces.

  “It’s okay,” Luke murmured, wiping his mouth and placing his napkin on the table next to his empty plate.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just not a good idea, Mom.” Annette hurried to explain her harshness, but her gut roiled, and she felt bad for the awkwardness of the family dinner. Of course, if she did everything they wanted, they would be discussing wedding plans and she wouldn’t be pursuing her dream. Not that she was actually succeeding. Her failure weighed heavy on her and, coupled with the scene in front of her, reminded her she was a disappointment to her family.

  She needed to get out of here.

  Her chair fell over backward as she abruptly stood. “Pie?” Righting her chair, she started grabbing empty plates off the table to put in the sink. She hurried like she was being helpful, but in actuality, she just wanted away from everything for a few minutes.

  When she turned around, Luke was standing there, a stack of plates in his hand, offering them to her. Wordless, Annette took them with a nod.

  “Annie, can we talk? After dessert?”

  She forced herself to look into his blue eyes, so open and honest, glittering at her. “Yeah.”

  Annette didn’t want to. She didn’t want to listen to him call her Annie, a name she’d outgrown years ago but couldn’t get anyone here to stop using. She didn’t want to see his sad eyes, glistening with tears, either shed or unshed. She didn’t want to listen to him talk about how she crushed his dreams of a life with her.

  She owed him at least that much, she supposed.

  Annette choked down a piece of pecan pie and stood to do the dishes, shooing off any help. It was no secret she was prolonging the inevitable, and Luke had to know it. She went from rushing through the clearing the table, to savoring every bite of pie and the following cleanup so she wouldn’t have to be alone with Luke.

  She was wiping down the counters when Luke grabbed her wrist. “Enough, Annie. Come outside a minute.”

  She followed him out, her feet heavy.

  Annette had already broken up with him, and it had been difficult enough. Why did he have to do this?

  He led her over to the porch swing, and they both sat, the squeak of the old chains louder than the last time she’d sat here.

  “Are you happy?”

  His words hit her hard. She didn’t know what it meant to be happy. She knew what it meant to do the right thing, to make others happy, to fit in, and do what was expected. “I’m doing what I want to do.”

  “But does it make you happy, Annie? Is it what you expected?”

  Jude’s hands came into her consciousness, hands that chopped wood, ate chicken soup, and fought fires. Behind the hands, flames rose, filled with smoke until she couldn’t see the hands anymore.

  “No, it isn’t what I expected, and at the same time, it’s exactly what I expected. It’s the hard work, late nights, and struggle to make ends meet that I expected. So, yeah.” She swiveled in the swing to face him. “Luke, this is something I have to do for me. It’s not something you can help with or do for me. I’ve got to do this alone. You have no place in this life with me.”

  And there they were. The glistening eyes. Luke was about to cry.

  “I just feel like I’ve lost everything,” he choked out.

  “Luke, we’ll always be friends,” God, she was such a bitch. “But I need this. I’ve never had anything for myself before. I’ve always done things for other people. I don’t want to spend my life doing murals on the church walls because I’m the local art teacher. I want people around the world to hang my art on their walls. I want them to look at my paintings and feel something. I have to at least see if I can try to make that happen. In the meantime, we won’t work romantically, but I’ll always be your friend.”

  “I see.” Luke was looking at his lap, silent tears falling. Each one was tangible evidence of Annette’s part in his sorrow. When he looked back at her, his eyes were rimmed in red and his face was blotchy. “Is there someone else?”

  “No,” she answered too quickly, and his eyes dropped back to his lap. He could see the lie, even if he didn’t know her at all. “Sort of.” Luke would never understand her desire to try to make it as an artist because he never understood her passion for it. But he could always see through her lies.

  “I’ve got to go. Do you think you can get Mom home?”

  “Yes, I’ll make sure she gets home.”

  He stood and turned to her as if he were going to ask a favor. She knew he wanted one last kiss, and she prayed he didn’t ask. It would be hard because Luke had always been a good kisser, but she’d already given him his last kiss when they broke up three months ago and she’d left.

  Thankfully, he turned again and ambled out to his truck. She watched him go, his lean limbs eating the ground as he went. He got into his truck and sat there a long time, just watching her, before he started it up and backed out of the driveway.

  Annette let out a heavy sigh, guilt eating her up inside. She wished she could be the person everyone wanted her to be. That would make her life so much easier.

  She couldn’t do that to herself. Tomorrow, she would go back home, to Pamona Gulch, where she would eat more Ramen noodles and freeze to death hawking her art on the square. But at least she would be herself doing it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The bells clanged, switching Jude’s train of thought automatically, for which he was grateful. He’d been wiping down the table after dinner, daydreaming about how he was going to get Annette back in his good graces, knowing it needed to be some grand gesture but coming up blank. The alarms gave him the respite he needed, making his brain go on autopilot as he slid down the pole and suited up, going through his mental checklists.

  On the truck, his thoughts strayed to Annette once again, only to give one errant plea to whomever that she was safe and warm wherever she was. The idiot inside him hoped she missed him, at least a little. And then he was back in firefig
hter mode.

  The fire was blazing when they got there—a house fire in one of the really old two-story homes in Pamona Gulch. There weren’t many houses like this left: all wood, no stone, all kindling when it came their time to burn.

  And this one was definitely burning. Logan was barking orders as the first-in truck commander at the scene. It was his job to not go in and oversee everything from the outside. Orders filtered into Jude’s helmet through the radio, and he sprang into action, Zane at his side.

  They worked well together as they made their way through the smoke and fire on the first floor. It was apparent the blaze had moved down the stairs from the second floor—the stairs were gone. The fire must have started on the second floor and burned through them. Not that it mattered right now. Right now, his job was to contain the fire enough to make sure there was no one still inside.

  “We need a ladder to get to the second floor, Logan,” Jude heard Zane speak through the headset. They’d been alerted that a family lived here, which was probably at least three people. If it were at all possible, they would find them, with hopes of getting all of them out. That was always the number-one goal, but if the stairs were gone, it was always a possibility the fire had been going for some time before anyone called emergency services and everyone was dead. But they couldn’t just assume that.

  So they went in.

  Upstairs was an inferno. Zane and Jude radioed back and forth, keeping in contact at all times as they made their way through thick smoke and jumped through crackling flames.

  It was one of the most intense fires Jude had ever been in. He tried not to think about the likelihood of finding anyone in here alive as they searched room to room, clinging to walls so as not to get lost and turned around in the flames while they looked for survivors. Jude’s heart pounded as he focused on the job.

  The master bedroom was completely engulfed in flames. Sweat trickled between Jude’s shoulder blades as he scanned the flame-ridden room. A bare foot lay on the ground, coming out of a pool of flames. Zane’s voice came over his radio, louder than normal and more than a little panicked.

  “I got a body over here.”

  Two dead in this room, they turned to continue their quest for survivors. The room was about to be completely engulfed, quickly followed by the entire second floor.

  “You guys have forty-five seconds to get the fuck out of that house,” Chief’s calm voice came through the radio from the ground outside where he was watching and giving instructions.

  “Looking for a kid,” Jude responded, as if that was all he’d need to say to gain himself more time. He knew the Chief would hold firm though. Jude had forty-five seconds.

  There were four rooms on the second floor, and Zane and Jude moved on to the next one, looking under beds and in closets they could get to. Jude hated that part, knowing it was a popular hiding place for children.

  “All clear,” filtered into Jude’s earpiece.

  “Moving down the hall to the south rooms,” Jude said, letting Joey know where they were in the conflagration.

  “Roger that. We’ve got hoses on the house. Fifteen seconds.”

  They were in the third room when they heard the shrieking coming from the final room they hadn’t checked yet.

  Moving quickly, Jude and Zane raced into the child’s room to see nothing at first, only flames licking at curtains and a frilly canopy over the bed. When Jude opened the closet door, he saw her huddled in the corner.

  Of course.

  Their job would be so much easier if the kids didn’t hide.

  He grabbed the little girl by the arm and wrapped her in a fire-resistant blanket before hefting her over his shoulders in a fireman hold.

  “I’ve got a survivor. We need the ladder at the south second-story window.” The guys outside already had a ladder in place, as they’d been following their progress through earpieces. Zane was breaking the glass, lights flashing in the night. Zane climbed out, and Jude handed off the girl.

  “Are there other kids in here, sweetie?” he managed to yell over the sounds of hungry flames before Zane started down the ladder rungs.

  She shook her head just as Joey started yelling some colorful curses in Jude’s ear about a propane tank.

  Modern building codes didn’t allow the propane tanks inside the house, but this one was old enough there might still be one in the basement.

  Time to get a move on.

  Jude threw one leg over the window sill, preparing to climb down after Zane, but the explosion happened before he could register the danger to himself.

  He was thrown, his entire body sprawling in a meager attempt to protect itself from the snowy ground racing up to meet him.

  His last thought as he raced past fir trees in a blur wasn’t of how this was the danger he faced every day, the distinct possibility he would never come home, or even his mother. His last thoughts were of Annette and how she probably would never know how he felt about her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Annette blew into her knit gloves, wondering exactly what type of gloves would actually keep her warm in this weather. It was late November, and the real cold hadn’t even started in Pamona Gulch. As she watched shopkeepers put out greenery and decorations for the holidays, a sense of foreboding tingled with the anticipation.

  It was going to get cold. The nights at the cabin slammed into her mind and she remembered all the snow, all the lazy days in bed with Jude. She wondered how she was going to manage in her boarding room with just a space heater. She would have to go to the thrift store and get another blanket or two, or else she would freeze to death.

  Everly’s slick, shiny blonde bun shone at her from across the square. Annette tried to ignore the woman. She’d seen Jude’s ex out here twice before, staring at her from across the square, and she wasn’t super sure what to do about it. Was the woman so pissed she’d slept with Jude that she was plotting revenge? Annette didn’t even have a relationship with the man.

  It was obvious Everly still had feelings for Jude, and since Annette had been clear at the bistro she wasn’t involved with him, Everly could have Jude. Except she cared a little too much. Truth was, she’d almost texted Jude countless times since she’d come back from Thanksgiving, but she was still a little miffed about the whole Everly thing and wasn’t looking for something based purely on really hot sex. So she’d stopped herself each time, knowing in her heart what a lie it all was.

  And that gave her a pang in her chest she didn’t want to think about.

  Before she could even count how many days since she’s spoken to Jude—her new habit every time she thought about him—Drake’s oily smile shone at her.

  “Hey there, Annette,” he cooed at her as if he hadn’t snarled the last time she’d seen him.

  “Drake.” Trying to be as dismissive as possible, she still didn’t want to burn bridges, even if said bridge was a slimy asswipe. Even so, she didn’t want to encourage conversation with him.

  He leaned on one of her easels she used for display purposes with zero care as to the piece of art on it. “I think we got off on the wrong foot before.”

  She sighed, even as his expectant look betrayed him. “Does this really work for you? Do you flash the possibility of a show in front of every wannabe artist and get them to drop their panties? Just like that?” She snapped her fingers, even though the illustration wasn’t necessary. Her raised voice and impatience were telling enough. He’d straightened from his relaxed posture almost as soon as she started speaking.

  “You have a lot of talent, and I’d hate to see it go to waste.” His expression was almost comical, as if no one had ever said no to him before. She wondered if that were the case. The dude wasn’t that smooth.

  “I think it would be wasted showing with you if all you want is to sleep with me. I’d prefer to find something wit
hout fucking somebody, thank you.” She crossed her arms and stared him down, daring him to say something else.

  A slow, loud clapping noise came from behind her. She spun around to see Everly smiling brightly at her.

  “See, Drake? Not every new girl in town thinks you’re God’s gift, and she’s got a show, so back the hell off.” Everly’s words sent Annette into a tailspin. She listened as Drake huffed behind her, but she didn’t spare him a glance.

  “What?”

  The ex-girlfriend of her former lover stared at Annette, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say the woman looked nervous. Her eyes flitted back and forth between Annette and various pieces of her work before finally landing on one piece, one of Annette’s favorites that she’d done in the mountains.

  “You’ve really captured the wildness of Pamona Gulch with this one.” Her fingers reached for it, but not to touch the canvas. Everly was ghosting her hand through the air in front of the canvas. “The way you used Jude’s eyes peeking through the trees of the mountain with the sunset colors is really spectacular.”

  The picture in question, at first glance, was a scenic painting—trees on the mountainside during the sunset. But Annette hadn’t been able to resist putting Jude in the image, so a hint of his golden-colored eyes was peering out from between branches. The eyes weren’t obvious to the casual observer, but the lines and colors were there. The amber color filling his irises was like smoke, fading in and out, swirling around the dilated pupils. His long eyelashes blended into the fir trees. It was like the eyes were waiting for something, watching something that arouses the senses, as if the mountain was watching. Waiting.

  She was really proud of that piece.

  “Um, thank you.” In her peripheral vision, she saw the back of Drake as he sauntered away.

  “I wanted to apologize about the other day. I’m sorry I lost it like that. I have no excuse, really. I like Jude and would love to rekindle something with him, but it’s clear he’s not interested.” The classy woman sighed, her face looking forlorn, and Annette felt for her. Jude was a hard man to let go of. “Truth is, we weren’t really all that compatible outside of the bedroom. So there’s that too.” She smiled wryly, and Annette was suddenly uncomfortable as she imagined the beautiful Everly in bed with the untamed Jude. Jealousy filled her veins, bracing her spine.