The Mogul and the Muscle: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(71)

“We won’t leave Bluewater,” she said. “And you won’t be alone. You’ll have me.”

Inda had served in the Israel Defense Forces before she’d met and married Nicholas. She was a legitimate badass.

“Okay, well, that means you’re on bodyguard duty,” I said. “But if we get in a high-speed chase with another golf cart, leave the driving to me.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said with a smile.

I glanced down at my feet. I was still wearing the shoes I’d worn to work this morning. They were nice—a classy pair of nude Saint Laurent pumps.

But I was in a mood. I needed sassier shoes.

“Hang on, let me change my shoes.”

I went into my walk-in closet and stepped out of my pumps. I scanned my collection for a second before finding the ones I wanted. Those red suede and crystal Jimmy Choos that I’d bought when I went shopping with Jude.

Hell yes.

I slipped them on my feet. Took a quick look in the full-length mirror. They complemented my beige tailored suit quite well. A pop of red sparkle on the sleek CEO.

A sassy pair of shoes didn’t do anything to help my situation, but they made me feel a bit better. And after the day I’d had, I’d take the tiniest improvement.

Inda said a quick goodbye to Nicholas, and we left out the garage. The lighted tassels on my golf cart glowed happily as I drove us toward the nearest path that led to the village.

Something in my driveway caught my attention—or rather a lack of something. I stopped and twisted in my seat to look behind me.

“Was Jude’s bike in the garage?”

“I don’t know. It might have been. I wasn’t looking for it, so I’m not sure.”

It wasn’t in front of my house, and I’d thought he’d left it there. I didn’t remember seeing it in the garage, but maybe I just hadn’t noticed it.

His things among mine had already become so commonplace, I didn’t think about them anymore.

With a sigh, I kept going. We bumped along the path, meandering our way toward the village. The path arched over a wooden bridge to cross the canal and I stopped at the peak.

The dark water flowed below us. We were surrounded by lush landscaping and the breeze coming off the bay was cool and refreshing.

“I kept something from him,” I said, breaking the silence. “You already heard us, but Aldrich—”

“Has a sex tape.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes. And I didn’t tell Jude.”

“That’s why he was angry.”

“He’s right, I should have told him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I’m embarrassed,” I admitted. “Not just because it’s a video of me having sex. And yes, I’ve seen the stupid thing, he wanted me to watch it with him afterward. And yes, you can see my face.”

“I wasn’t going to ask for details.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, well… I’m embarrassed because it was bad judgment to let him record it in the first place. It makes me feel stupid. And I really, really hate feeling stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Cameron. You’re human. We all make mistakes.”

“I know.”

Inda shifted in her seat so she was partially facing me. “Can I speak candidly?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think you were really fighting about whether or not you should have told him about the video.”

“No?”

“That was part of it. But I think you’re both struggling to trust each other. And wondering whether or not you’re trusted.”

“I trust him.”

“Maybe you do, and he’s just not certain of it,” she said. “Or maybe you trust him in some ways, but not others. But I’ve known you for what, four years? I know that trust doesn’t come easily to you.”

“I’ve trusted Jude in some very serious ways,” I said.

“Well, yes, you trust him as your bodyguard.”

“Not just that. Inda, we had sex in a closet at the Intercontinental Hotel. That’s some serious trust.”

Inda raised her eyebrows. “Wow. That’s bold.”

“Exactly. I’d never take a risk like that with someone I didn’t trust.”

“True,” she said, nodding. “But what about other risks?”

“Like what?”

“Jude said he doesn’t know very much about you. Neither do I, to be honest. I know the things anyone could know. Or things I’ve picked up on over the last few years. But you don’t share a lot of personal stories with others.”

I stared out the front of the cart, not really seeing anything. She was hitting a bit too close to the truth.

“Listen, you don’t act like you’re better than other people because of your job or your money, and I admire that about you. You’re easy to talk to. But when was the last time you shared something deeply personal with another person?”

“Does my vagina count? That’s deeply personal.”

She laughed. “Not something physical.”

“I don’t know. It’s easier to talk about work. Or Bluewater.”

She patted my leg. “It’s just something to think about if you and Jude decide to get serious.”