Soundtrack for this chapter
This—Ed Sheeran
Look After You—The Fray
Hold You in My Arms—Ray LaMontagne

6

"Hey," the deep English voice I didn't realize I had been longing to hear again filled my ears. "Follow me."

Jude retreated into a shadowed corner of the building. It was no wonder I didn't recognize him; he had his dark curls pulled back into the tiniest bun at the nape of his neck, a navy baseball cap shadowed his face, and sunglasses shielded his eyes. He pulled the sunglasses off and bent down to peck me on the cheek.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you. I was hoping to disguise myself enough that people wouldn't notice me. You mentioned being kind of reserved the other night, and I didn't want to bring unwanted attention to you."

Any nervousness I was feeling slowly vanished. The fact that he had listened intently enough to remember some menial fact about myself that I threw out at some point during the night reassured me that I was where I was supposed to be.

I looked into Jude's dark eyes and smiled. "Thanks." I suddenly noticed that he was still holding onto my arm, sending an electric current down to my fingertips. Jude noticed too and promptly removed his grip.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Good. I have the perfect place for us to start."

He led us to Covent Garden, which was just a five minute walk from Leicester Station. Once in the heart of it, he pointed out a restaurant near the Theatre.

"I was in a production at that theatre a few years ago, and we ate brunch nearly every Sunday at the place across from it before our matinee showing. I thought it would be a nice place for us to start our tour. Remember, I am at  your disposal today." Jude did a little half bow, and the smile that I could not erase from my mind spread across his face.

When we entered the restaurant, Jude leaned over to the host to whisper something in his ear. In a low voice, I heard the host reply, "Not a problem, Mr. Anderson. Please, follow me."

Jude motioned for me to follow the host, and we were led up to a little corner on the second floor of the restaurant. The table was secluded from the others and situated in the angle of two full length windows. The sunlight was filtering through the clouds at the moment, and I silently wished that the infamous London rain that could pour down at any second would hold off just for that day.

After Jude and I sat down, the host gave us our menus and assured us that our waitress would be right over to take our drink orders.

"Whenever we came here to eat, the host would sit us back here so as to allow us to eat in peace. I'm sure it sounds awful to not want to have to interact with the people who help support my career, but there are times when it's nice to not get recognized." A look of guilt seemed to be creeping up on Jude's face.

"I don't think that sounds awful," I said. "You deserve to have some time to yourself. I really don't even know how you manage to be in the spotlight all the time. I feel like I would go crazy having to always look and act my absolute best." I gave him a smile and got one back in return.

"I guess you just get used to it like anything else." Jude paused to look at his menu, and I took the time to do the same. After a few minutes, he looked up at me. "Alright...let me try to guess what you're going to order."

"What exactly are you basing this off? We've never eaten together. You've got no idea what I like."

"Au contraire, Elle. Have you already forgotten how we passed the time on Friday night? You love coffee, you have a decadent sweet tooth, and you like anything lemon flavored. I'm going to guess that you have been contemplating between the honey lemon crepes and the cafe au lait french toast." Jude had just about the smuggest smile possible plastered on his face, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe it off.

"Okay, Mr. Anderson, now let me guess, when you were in acting school, you were taught how to make small observations and draw conclusions to know how to respond in different roles. And, naturally, as an actor, your memory is a steel trap."

"Please don't call me that. I actually hate that. I deserve no more to be called upon formally than anyone else." I would have thought I offended him if his tone had changed, but he kept it light and casual. He continued, "And, while what you said is true, that's not how I knew what you were going to order." Jude let his smile grow.

"Then please inform me as to how you read my mind."

"My mum always taught me to listen closely when a beautiful woman spoke to me."

Even though a steady heat built in my cheeks, I managed to respond to him without completely losing my composure. "Your mother is a smart woman."

Jude winked at me and put his menu down. Just as I looked up from my own, our waitress came over to take our order.

"Good morning, what could I get you two?" She was awfully chipper, and I wondered if it had something to do with the man sitting across from me. She had looked at Jude first, but he gestured to me.

"I'll have the honey lemon crepes and a coffee, please."

"I'll do the same. Thanks," said Jude.

As the waitress turned around, Jude leaned into the table and looked me square in the eyes. "I've ordered those crepes at least a dozen times before. You're going to love them." As he sat back in his seat, he let his lips move back into their sly smile resting place.

While we waited for our food, Jude and I continued our game from Friday night. The more I listened to him, the more I realized we actually had a lot in common despite being from two different countries separated by an ocean and two incredibly different social classes. 

"Wait, let me get this straight. You're British, but you hate tea? Is that even allowed?"

"It's quite frowned upon, and I often had to force it down for my gran's sake, but it's just so bloody disgusting, you know?"

"Oh, absolutely. No amount of sugar could make it bearable for me," I said.

Where we did differ was in how we took our coffees. The waitress placed the piping mugs in front of us, and Jude picked his up and took a swig.

"You're not actually going to drink that black, are you?" I asked.

"Yes...you're not actually going to mask the flavor of the coffee by drowning it in milk and sugar, are you?"

"Yes..."

Jude's facial expression dropped, and he looked at me intently. "Elle, I'm not sure this is going to work. I should probably just get the check now."

I found myself staring back into his dark eyes and looking for a hint that he was joking. Surely the way I took my coffee could not be that offensive. All of a sudden, he burst into laughter.

"Elle, I'm just joking! You were right when you told me you could be a bit on edge."

The tension eased between us, and I felt comfortable enough to relax again in his presence. I could feel my stomach grumbling for food, and I longed for the sweet lemony crepes I'd ordered.

As if the waitress had heard my stomach's pleas for something to eat, our food appeared and was set in front of us. It looked like someone had just plucked the dish out of a magazine. The crepes were folded into neat triangles on the plate, dusted with powdered sugar, and adorned with a sprinkling of fresh raspberries.

"These look amazing," I said.

We both sank our forks into the light mound of crepes, and a pale yellow cream spilled out onto the plates. It was by far one of the best breakfasts I'd ever had.

The millennial in me longed to take out my phone and snap a picture of my crepes, but I knew it would be rude to pull my phone out while we were eating. Just as I picked my head up to ask Jude something, I noticed he had his phone out and was pointing it at me. I heard the artificial shutter sound come out of the speaker of his phone and raised my eyebrows at him.

"Did you just take a picture of me? Do you have any idea how unattractive it looks when someone is munching away on her breakfast?"

"I'm always getting photographed, but now that I'm aiming to not get recognized, no one will be taking pictures for us to remember this moment, so I have to take them for us. Besides, I'm not sure there's anything you could do that would make you look unattractive."

I felt my cheeks flush red, and I couldn't think of any kind of witty remark to say back to him, so I just smiled and continued to eat my crepes. Jude must have been as hungry as I was as neither of us spoke again until our plates were clean. The waitress noticed when we were finished, and she came over to collect our plates and drop off the bill. I reached down to pick up my purse, but Jude's hand gently caught hold of my wrist from across the table.

"What're you doing?" He asked me.

"Just getting my wallet...is there something wrong with the check?"

"Not at all. I'll pay the bill." He looked at me as if this was common knowledge.

"Jude really, I can pay for myself."

His brow furrowed and his head cocked to the side. "Oh, that's not what I was insinuating, Elle. It's just that I invited you out, so I'll take care of it."

"That makes this sound very much like a date." The words were tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I'm sorr--" Jude cut me off.   

"Who said it wasn't?" He winked at me for the second time, replaced his smile, and got up to pay the bill. I picked up my coffee mug and inhaled the aroma as my mind raced.

This is too much too soon. I didn't know what to think. Sure, from the time I had spent with him, I could tell Jude was kind and attentive, and really handsome in a scruffy sort of way, but I hadn't set it in my mind as a date, and now I was worried I was going to screw things up before they even started.

Dates freaked me out. I knew where they led. I knew this would end up like all the other dates I'd had in the past year. And suddenly I was feeling like I owed him something because he paid for me, and I hated that. I hated that guys had made me feel that way for the past year. It was yet another reason to avoid dating altogether.

My heart started beating faster and I closed my eyes, brought the coffee back to my nose, and took myself somewhere that provided me comfort. The back porch at home, Lucky laying in the sun with his belly up and his cream colored fur almost becoming too bright to look at, the fresh smell of lavender coming from mom's garden. I was jolted out of my vision by a hand placed on my shoulder.

"Hey, ready to go?"

I fumbled for a response. "Oh, sorry, yeah. Let me put my jacket on."

"Oh, here." Jude grabbed my jacket and held it up for me.

Are all guys from England this polite, or is he trying to rack up points in his favor to be returned later? I had to take a deep breath and get out of my own head. Everything was fine. I was on a date and everything was fine.

I turned to look at Jude. I'd never found facial hair on a man attractive before. I always thought it made men look like they didn't care about their appearance, but Jude kept his neatly trimmed and closely cropped to his skin. For him, it was working in all the right ways.

"Thanks. And thank you for breakfast. I appreciate it. So, where is our next stop?" I asked.

"Well, that is in part up to you. Do you want to go the history route or the nature route?"

"What do you think I want?"

Jude studied my face. "Hm...you told me that you were a planner, and if that is really true, I bet that you're thinking it's going to be warmer later in the day, making a nature tour more enjoyable and leading us to go on a history tour now."

I smiled in spite of myself. "Damn. Do I need to start wearing tinfoil on my head or something to keep you out of it?"

"I told you, my mum instilled valuable lessons in me."

There was zero chance the flush that Jude continuously incited in my cheeks went unnoticed, but all the same he smiled at me, took my hand, and led me back out into Covent Garden.

"Where exactly are we going for this history lesson?"

"You'll see." There was a twinkle in his eye, and I'm sure he was loving the fact that he was pulling me out of my over planning and over controlling personality by leaving me guessing.

A/N: As always, thanks for reading :) if you liked this chapter, please tap that star to vote or leave me a little note! ⭐️