Warnings: Emotional Abuse

I'm stuck in a car with my mother, my two aunts, my grandmother, and my great-aunt.

We're driving to Woodstock. Suddenly it's a place they claim they've always wanted to visit.

The fact that they all seem to agree on something should give me pause more than anything else. They rarely get along.

I honestly think it's just an excuse to get me to go on a trip. It's been years since I visited my mother, and even longer since I've seen the rest of them.

Not that that makes their choice of destination make any more sense. I've never particularly wanted to visit Woodstock. At least I'm a liberal. They're certainly not. Maybe they think the town will appeal to my political sensibilities.

I know what people would say if they could hear my thoughts. I should be happy that I have a big family. I should be happy that that family wants to see me. I should be happy that they put so much effort into planning a holiday for all of us.

But I'm not happy. I know that it won't be long before this vacation turns into a massive critique of my life. They'll go over what I've done wrong, which is everything, and how I could have fixed it if I had just listened to them. They'll tell me what I have left to do and how to do it right. They'll reminisce about everything I might have done if I had only been prettier, smarter, or more athletic than I am. Ultimately, this whole excursion is just a front so they can tear me down and build themselves up.

If I could have refused, I would have. But I've finally run out of excuses, and I've never been brave enough to tell them the truth, so I just said yes.

So here I am, in a rented car, on my way to a rented cabin, obligated to spend the next two weeks with my family whether I like it or not.

What have I gotten myself into?

We don't linger at the cabin long once we arrive, thank goodness. It's a beautiful day, and they all want to go shopping and stock the kitchen. I don't mind; it might give me some time to get away.

When we get to town, there's some sort of protest going on. My mother is immediately leery; she takes my grandmother's arm and leads her to the nearest store. She tries to grab me too, but I wave her away, promising to catch up.

It's Woodstock, right? I should get the feel for the place, since I'm here.

I wander through the little square in the center of town, looking at the signs. They're protesting the war. The people holding them smile and wave as I walk by, and for some reason, I can't resist smiling and waving back. Maybe it's just being in a place where no one knows me.

Being able to escape the person I feel like I'm supposed to be would be nice, even if it's only for a little while.

As I'm lost in my thoughts, a deep voice speaks behind me. "Would you like to sign the petition?" it asks. I turn to look for the person the voice belongs to and respond, but when my eyes finally find him, I can't form words for a moment because he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen.

His dark brown hair is tousled, and his hazel eyes are warm as he grins at me. He has a full, thick beard that matches his hair; it's streaked through with silver and not doing anything to hide his incredible dimples. The first few buttons of his plaid shirt are undone, revealing an alluring trail of curls that must continue down his chest.

"Wow." The word escapes me before I can stop it, and then I'm blushing madly. Why did I let myself say that?! I mean, it's the only word that does him justice, but I didn't need him to know!

He chuckles, biting his lip and raising his eyebrows playfully. He's looking at me expectantly, clutching a clipboard and refillable water bottle in his arm; his other hand is in the pocket of his loose, worn jeans.

I should probably stop staring at him and say something before he decides that I'm a total idiot. He asked me a question, right? What was it?

I shake my head to clear it. "I'm sorry. What?" I stammer nervously, completely embarrassed. His grin gets bigger, but I get the distinct impression that it's not at my expense. He just seems happy.

"Would you like to sign the petition?" he repeats. "To bring our troops home?"

"Oh!" I reply. I mean, I should have guessed, right? "Of course." He hands me the clipboard and a pen and I sign my name. My cheeks are still hot. I don't know why I'm reacting like this; a man who looks like he does would never be interested in me, and I'll probably never see him again after today anyway.

He takes the clipboard back; I smile anxiously, starting to move away, but he slips his hand out of his pocket and grabs my wrist gently. I look at him in surprise. Does he want something else?

"Got somewhere to be?" He's still grinning, and his dimples are completely distracting. Normally I get defensive and brush guys off; I've been hurt enough to not want to take chances anymore. But I feel disarmed, and instead find myself answering him truthfully.

"Not really." I'm certainly in no rush to get back to my family, but I didn't come here to spend time with strangers either. "But I don't want to bother you while you're trying to collect signatures," I admit sincerely, gesturing at the clipboard. He laughs. He's adorable when he laughs, I notice. His eyes crinkle and light up as he scrunches his face together. I'm having a hard time deciding how old he is because his features are severely throwing me off.

"Everyone here signed a long time ago. You're the first new signature I've gotten in months," he confesses, prompting me to laugh along with him. He slips his hand down and intertwines our fingers, and I find myself letting him. He's so genuine that I'm having a hard time feeling cautious. "I haven't seen you around here before," he adds. "I hadn't heard of anyone new moving into town."

"Oh, I don't live here," I reveal a little regretfully. "My family and I arrived this morning. We rented a cabin out by the lake for two weeks."

"That's great! The lake is beautiful." He pauses. "Two weeks, huh? That's plenty of time to get to know someone. Think you'll be able to get away once in a while?" His eyes sparkle hopefully and I find myself just staring at him once more.

Is he serious?

"Why?" I blurt out, squeezing my eyes shut immediately after. Why can't I control my mouth around him?

When he touches my face, I open my eyes slowly to look at him, hoping that I don't seem like the proverbial deer in the headlights. He's standing very close to me; I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and when I take a breath, his scent surrounds me. I smell wood and wood stain and natural musk; for some reason, I find it soothing.

He bites his lip again, the clipboard and water bottle clutched between his elbow and his side while his thumb strokes my cheekbone. "Because I like to get to know new people," he teases. "What's your name, new person? I'm Jude Fisher."

I've blushed more in the few minutes I've spent with him than I have in my entire life. I lift my free hand, cupping his elbow to steady myself. "Robin Ballard." My voice is soft and breathy. I've never sounded like this before! What in the world is wrong with me?! "It's nice to meet you, Jude."

He licks his lips and beams at me. I've never met someone who smiles so much. It's impossible not to be cheerful around him. I sigh as his fingers curve around my cheek. "It's nice to meet you, Robin." He pauses, looking me over before he presses on. "Named after nature," he muses. "That must be why you're so naturally beautiful."

I can't help giggling. He's so earnest that I know he's not making a joke, which is insane. Not only is he completely wrong about me, but I didn't think people who actually said things like that existed. I dip my head shyly. "Well, I wasn't named after nature. I was named after a baseball player," I counter. "But I like your flattering interpretation better."

"I'm just telling you the truth." He winks at me before something over my shoulder draws his attention. "I think someone's looking for you." I turn. Sure enough, there's my mother, calling my name. She hasn't seen me yet.

"I better go," I decide reluctantly. I think about asking if I'll see him again, but I'm sure he's just having a good time and flirting in the moment. It's a nice feeling, but it doesn't mean anything. Especially since he's extraordinarily handsome and I'm just me.

I start to pull away, but he tugs on my hand, not letting me leave just yet. "Hey," he tells me. "I'll see you around, okay?" I think about objecting, but that thought leaves me completely when he leans down and brushes his lips against my cheek. I inhale sharply as his silky beard rubs over my skin.

Jude cradles my head in his hand before sliding his nose down my cheek and placing another gentle kiss at the corner of my mouth. When I don't stop him, he turns my head so that our lips meet.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm not the type of person to flirt with or kiss random people. Still, I'd be a fool to pass up kissing a man like him, wouldn't I? I'm on vacation, after all. I should try to live a little, maybe? I'm far too high-strung for anything like this in my everyday life.

He smiles against my mouth, and I hear the clipboard and water bottle fall to the ground as he cups my face and deepens the kiss. I lean into him, clutching the base of his forearm in one hand before putting my other arm around his neck.

His lips are soft and smooth. He moves them leisurely, sweetly, eagerly, against mine, his nose brushing my face tenderly. He keeps opening his mouth just enough to kiss my lower lip sensually; it's like one kiss is really ten strung together. My embarrassment multiplies as I audibly whimper, but he clearly likes it. He pulls me closer, kissing my upper lip now. The sunglasses he has tucked into the vee of his shirt are cold against my skin, but I don't care.

I never want the kiss to end.

Of course, it does. Jude pulls back gradually, kissing the tip of my nose. He smooths an errant strand of hair over my ear before letting go of me.

"I will definitely be seeing you again, Robin," he promises. His voice is husky and his eyes have darkened to the color of espresso. I blush more, if that's even possible, and look up at him shyly.

"If you say so, Jude." My voice is sad. The kiss was wonderful, but I just can't believe him. We had a moment, and now it's almost over.

I wish I could say that was fine with me, but it's really not. He's reminded me of how lonely I am.

He squats to pick up his things; I take the opportunity to turn and weave my way through the crowd back to my family. I take some bags from them, hoping I'm not too red anymore. I'd rather not explain what just happened.

As we walk to the next shop, I risk a glance back in his direction. To my surprise, he's still watching me. He gives me a little wave.

I raise my free hand and wave back, sighing as I realize that those few minutes are probably going to be the best part of this trip.