Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (53 page)

In spite of his friendly words, I can tell that my dad is not too certain about Jude. It’s been so long since I brought someone home, I can’t figure out if his response is just that of a cautious father, or if it’s Judah himself that rubs him the wrong way. It’s subtle, as he has a remarkable poker face, but I’ve known him for twenty-three years—I can see it. Whatever it is that’s bothering him, I hope he’ll relax soon. I’m relieved when my mother comes down the stairs to join us. That is, until her eyes practically fall out of their sockets at the sight of the tall man standing beside me.

My mom is the same height as me, standing at five-six, with dark blonde hair that lays just past her shoulders. She’s thin, but not overly so—any excess weight she carries always fondly referred to as her
mom-padding
. I get my brown eyes from her, only hers are a bit darker.

“Well, you’re quite handsome,” she says in greeting, her eyes scrutinizing Jude.

It takes everything in me not to groan in embarrassment. She is right, after all, so I can’t exactly blame her. I’ve got myself one gorgeous man. He chuckles as he holds his hand out to introduce himself.

“Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”

“Judah, right?”

“Yes.”

She doesn’t insist that he call her
Renee
—a fact that I pick up on right away. I try not to let my disappointment show as both of my parents play nice. I remind myself that I’m their baby—their baby who has avoided romantic entanglements for years. They’re allowed to be guarded and cautious. Though, I wish they would trust that I wouldn’t bring home someone I didn’t trust myself.

“Why don’t you two come in? Have a seat. Teddy, honey, tell us what happened to your car.”

We all make our way into the family room, my parents sitting on one couch, and Judah and I occupying the matching piece that sits just cater-corner. I don’t know whether to sit closer to Judah or farther away from him, so I sit somewhere in between. I don’t want to be so close that I give them the impression that our level of intimacy is way higher than they probably assume; but I also don’t want to be so far way from him that he doesn’t feel that I’m in this with him when my parents start their interrogation.

And there
will
be an interrogation.

I can feel it.

F
or an hour and a half, there seems to be a never ending stream of questions. I assume this is normal and that the Fitzpatricks are doing what any self-respecting parents would do. I am a stranger in their home whom their daughter appears to be quite fond of—not to mention, at least one of them has to assume she’s seen my dick.

My mind drifts off, my thoughts taking me back to last night when she blew me.
God
, I love being inside of her mouth. Love it even more when she holds perfectly still, allowing me to fuck her just the way I want—my hands fisted in her hair, my hips pumping in quick, short movements, my cock hitting the back of her throat.

I clear
my
throat, discarding the memory when I feel myself starting to get hard. As I tune back into the conversation, Teddy is explaining how we came to know that our siblings were dating one another. I swear, we’ve exhausted all avenues of conversation regarding me and our relationship thus far—outside of the intimate details, of course. I’m relieved as fuck when my phone rings, giving me an excuse to step away for a moment.

When I return to the room, Teddy and Mrs. Fitzpatrick are gone. Officer Fitzpatrick locks eyes with me, offering no explanation as I return to my seat. As a man, I find it hard to be intimidated by him. Physically, there are very few men I’ve met who present themselves as an indomitable threat, and he is not one of them. As an officer of the law, I have the utmost respect for him. His job is both noteworthy and dangerous. Holding that kind of position has never appealed to me, but I appreciate that there are men who are brave enough to take on the task. Nevertheless, if he’s aiming to strike me with fear just now, he’ll be sorely disappointed.

He might be the father of the woman sharing my bed, but I’ve earned the right to have her there. Whatever concerns he has, they belong to him, not me—and I’m not going anywhere. Theodora isn’t going anywhere, either—she’s
mine
; so whatever he’s trying to say with his stare, I sure as hell have no intention of backing off.

“How old did you say you were?” he asks.

“I’ll be thirty-two in December.”

He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what is a man like you doing with my daughter?”

I lean back against the couch, propping my right ankle over my left knee before I ask, “A man like me?”

“You’re managing partner of a design firm that sounds pretty lucrative. I can tell by the clothes you wear, that watch on your arm, and the vehicle you have parked in my driveway that you’re not lacking in success. You seem like a very bright and talented fellow, but Teddy is still just a kid.”

“Teddy is
not
a kid. She may be your youngest child, but she’s an adult, capable of making her own choices.”

“That may be so, but there’s almost a decade between the two of you. What are your intentions, Judah?”

“My intentions?” I ask with a slight scowl, wondering who the fuck he thinks I am.

“I see the way she looks at you. She’s quite attached. Since you are not a father yourself, you might not understand my concern, given the length of time you two have known each other—but if you have no intention of sticking around for the long haul, I would rather you
not
use my daughter as your play thing.”

“Officer Fitzpatrick,” I begin, discarding his earlier request for me to address him by his first name. “I am not a fortune teller. I will not claim to know what my future with Teddy looks like; but I would ask that you respect me enough not to assume that I would dare come into your house if Teddy was nothing more to me than a
play thing
. I have better things to do with my time than meet the parents of a woman whose feelings I care nothing about.”

Silence settles between us for a moment, his eyes still intently trained on me.

“Are you a man who wishes to one day be married?”

I cough out a humorless laugh, shaking my head as I finally pull my gaze away from his. “Until a couple months ago, I wasn’t a man who wished to be in a monogamous relationship at all. Marriage is not something I think about.”

He grunts, causing me to shift my focus back on him.

“I know my girls. They’re the marrying kind.”

“I’ve never lied to her about our relationship. I’m no manipulative bastard, and her choice to be with me is exactly that—
her
choice. So long as Teddy chooses me, I’m not worried about whether or not she’s the
marrying kind
.”

“Fair enough,” he mumbles. “The girls went to go put something together for lunch. They should be back any minute now.”

I offer him no more than a nod, which he seems to accept. He’s still eyeing me wearily, which I could do without, but I don’t mention it.

“You’re an honest man. I respect that,” he finally says.

I relax, letting my guard down just a little. I can’t blame the man for doing what he thinks is best for his daughter, especially considering her past. “You’re a good father. I respect that, as well.”

He holds out his hand and I grip his palm with my own. We shake cordially, and our conversation is finally put to bed.

When Judah steps away to take his phone call, mom suggests that we slip into the kitchen and throw something together for a quick lunch. Now, as we stand side by side constructing turkey and cheese sandwiches, I wonder what Jude and dad will talk about when he returns to the room. They know just about everything there is to know about my man, now. Well—all his surface level details. I’ll admit I’m more than a little bit proud that I know so much more about him than my parents or a lot of other people ever will.

“Teddy, honey, can I be honest with you about something?” my mom asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

In spite of the knot that suddenly forms in my stomach, I reply, “Of course, mom.”

“It’s about Judah,” she begins, as if I hadn’t already guessed where this conversation was going. “He seems a bit old for you.”

Her tone suggests that she’s trying to be kind, but I can feel myself growing defensive. I try and reign it in before I respond. “It’s only nine years, mom. It’s not like he’s ancient. He’s still young by the world’s standards.”

“Teddy, you just graduated from college a few months ago. He graduated years ago. He’s had time to establish a career, buy a house—I just, I don’t know. Don’t you think you should be with someone who you might be able to relate to a little bit more?”

“I relate to Judah just fine. Besides—have you forgotten my
best friend
is closer to forty than twenty-five? Age is just a number, mom.”

I can sense it when she stops moving, her gaze trained on me intently. I don’t stop what I’m doing until she grabs my hands, forcing me to cease and look at her.

“Older men tend to want different things than the younger ones.”

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion. “If you mean to say that since Jude is older, he’s more focused—then yes, you’re right. He’s
very
focused and
very
intentional about everything that he does.”

“And what does he want with you? What are his intentions with you?”

“He’s my boyfriend. What do you mean?”

“Oh, honey,” she coos, cupping one of her hands around my cheek. “I just don’t want you getting hurt, that’s all.”

“And what does his
age
have to do with whether or not he’s capable of hurting me?”

“You’re just still so young. I don’t want to see you get so attached that it crushes you if he ever decides he needs someone a little older—you know, once you’re done having fun.”

I step away from her, crushed by her words. I know she didn’t mean to offend me, but I can’t help the way her statement makes me feel. “Having
fun?
You think he’s with me just because he’s looking to have a good time?”

“Teddy—”

“I’m sure he was having
plenty
of fun before me. That’s not what this is about. He cares about me. He’s
committed
to me. Do you know how long it’s been since he’s been romantically committed to anyone?”

She holds her hands out, her whole body practically screaming,
See? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?

“He buys me flowers when he’s thinking of me. Did I tell you that? He held me for hours the weekend I found out about…” my voice trails off, the thought of my infertility reeking havoc on my emotions. I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down before I continue speaking. “The point is, he means something to me. And I mean something to him.”

“Oh, dear,” my mother sighs, reaching up to cup her hand around one of her own cheeks. “You’re already in love with him, aren’t you?”

I stare at her for a moment, my lips sealed shut tight. I refuse to answer her. Partly because I’m sure she’ll have something negative to say about it, but mostly because I haven’t told Judah yet. I will share how I feel with no one until I’ve shared the depth of my feelings with the man I love. Instead, I turn away from my mom and continue piecing together the sandwiches.