Abyss (Elements of Rapture Book 4)

20. Hudson

HUDSON

Afew days later, my phone buzzes on my nightstand and I reach for it, tossing aside the EarthPulse magazine I was reading on my bed. It’s not like I was retaining any of it anyway, since my mind was elsewhere.

Belinda

Photo of baby Evelyn Sky>

Belinda

Guess who’s here! Eight-and-a-half pounds of sweetness.

A smile stretches across my face as I take in the cherub cheeks and golden curls of a very sleepy baby in the arms of her mom, Belinda’s soft gaze smiling down at her in awe.

Me

She is really sweet. You sure she’s yours?

Belinda

I’ve often wondered the same about Madison.

I quickly type out a congratulatory response to her, getting out of bed, not bothering to put my sweatpants on over my boxers.

It’s past eleven—Kavi is likely already asleep—but I can’t help wanting to give her the news, in case Belinda hasn’t texted her already. I could tell her in the morning, of course, but given that I’ve barely gotten a few minutes alone with her since our rendezvous in my office last Friday, I’m antsy to see her.

I hadn’t spoken more than a few words to her this morning when she walked into the kitchen as I was drinking my first cup of coffee. I thought about going back to my room for a T-shirt to wear over my sweatpants, but then she practically tripped over herself and ran into the countertop while she gawked at my chest. That’s when I decided I liked her reaction too much to cover up.

Perhaps I’d just walk around the house bare-chested from now on.

Avoiding my eyes, she asked me how my trip was while buzzing around the kitchen, packing cheese scones for the office. I leaned against one of the counters watching her. I’d just gotten back last night after a three-day business trip, and we hadn’t spoken much aside from work-related topics. Though I won’t deny I was keeping tabs on her.

Per my instruction, Aaron had urged her to let him drive her to work every morning, and my shopper, Tina, had asked for Kavi’s shopping list—given nothing was noted on the list I kept in the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, the stubborn mule I was living with refused, saying she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

I’d also sent her a message a couple of days ago to check in.

Me

Are we okay?

Now, I’m not generally one to read in-between the lines, but I got this strange sense she was trying to wave over any personal conversations.

Kav

Yes. Why wouldn’t we be? Also, Aaron’s mom is in the hospital. I’ve sent flowers on your behalf.

And when I asked her to drive back home with me today after work, she told me she needed to go to the grocery store. I countered, letting her know I was happy to drive her there, but she refused. I can’t help thinking it was her way of avoiding being in a confined space with me. And that thought annoyed me as much as it relieved me.

I open my bedroom door just as my mind warns me to let things lie. Maybe her creating distance is for the best. Except, when it comes to the woman sleeping down the hall from me, it seems my mind has little control over my actions.

Throughout my time away from her, I found myself looking off into space more times than I care to count. Me. A man so consumed with work, I barely had time to breathe, found myself consumed with something—someone—else entirely.

Ever since she left my office that night, giving me the best sex of my life, I’ve felt depleted somehow—altered and redesigned in a way. As if a toxin had settled into my bloodstream, slowly siphoning out who I used to be, leaving traces of itself in every molecule.

And while the sex was phenomenal, that wasn’t the only reason she was on my mind day and night since.

It was that fucking last kiss.

The one where she cradled my face and looked into my eyes as if she was trying to find her way into my damn soul. The way her fingers brushed my skin and her lips touched mine.

I run a frustrated hand down my face, filling my cheeks with air and letting it out. I get laid all the ways to Sunday, and what’s the thing that has me spinning out into space? A damn kiss.

Am I becoming a complete sap in my old age? Who the hell else thinks about a kiss when the scent, the feel of a woman, is lingering in their system?

Keeping my feet quiet, I trek down the hall toward the other side of the condo, where an array of nightlights illuminates the area every few feet. There’s a little glow dissipating from the bottom of her door as well, and it definitely seems like she’s asleep.

Deciding not to wake her, I’ve just turned to head back to my room when I hear the unmistakable sounds of sobbing.

My body stiffens like a soldier at attention, my ears attuned to the sound, as I listen for another few moments.

She’s crying. But beyond that, she sounds like she’s in pain, wincing and whining.

Is she still awake? What’s she crying about? My stomach rolls at the thought of it being because of me.

But then I hear her mumble some incoherent words that have me thinking she’s dreaming.

Not giving myself a chance to change my mind, I shuffle back to her room, gently swinging the door open and stepping inside.

Like fireflies twinkling under a summer sky, her room is bathed in a multitude of soft glowing colors, ranging from orange to yellow to blue from her nightlights, casting comforting shadows over the walls.

Curled into a fetal position on her bed, Kavi’s arms are wrapped around her knees and tucked into her stomach. Her restless movements have pulled her blanket off her body, leaving her vulnerable and uncovered. Even in this dim lighting, the furrow on her forehead, the way her eyes squeeze shut, gives a sense for the demons she’s fighting.

“Let me out!” she pleads, kicking off more of her blanket violently. “Please. Someone let me out!”

Without hesitation, I rush to her side. My instinct to comfort her outweighs any warning bells inside my head, telling me to leave her be. Perching on the edge of her bed, I run a gentle palm over her exposed arm, sweeping her tear-soaked hair off her face.

Even in the throes of her nightmare, with her skin cool and damp and her hair disheveled, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

A knot forms inside my throat as I gently shake her. “Kav,” I murmur. “Baby, wake up.”

Her furrowed brows deepen as she shakes her head, hands fisting beneath her chin. “You can’t do this!” She kicks the mattress, her knee knocking my hip. “Please . . . don’t hurt him. I won’t tell anyone. I won”t . . . I won’t . . .”

My chest constricts as I lower my lips to her temple, kissing it gently. Memories flood back as I recall doing the same when Maddy had nightmares as a kid. It broke me to see her be so scared, as if she felt truly alone in whatever she was facing. I loathed that feeling for her, the same as I despise it for Kavi.

“Kav, please, sweetheart.” I squeeze her hip, gently jostling her. “Wake up. It’s just a dream.”

Her body coils under me, eyelids fluttering before blinking awake. At first she still appears to be trapped in the clutches of her nightmare—confused and withdrawn—but a gasp escapes through her lips as her eyes drag up to mine.

“Hudson?” she rasps, almost like she’s wondering if she’s really awake.

I shift, preparing to get up and give her more room now that I’ve successfully awakened her, when Kavi throws her arms around me. Before I know it, she’s sliding onto my lap, burying her nose into the crook of my neck.

I’m frozen for a moment, my hands halted in the air unsurely. But slowly, as if by instinct or this innate need to protect her, I wrap my arms around her trembling form. I cradle the back of her head, brushing my lips over her temple.

Kavi’s chest heaves with sobs, her fingernails biting into my bare back. “Hudson.”

This time, my chest catches on fire at the desperate, yet relieved sound of my name on her lips. Wrapping her thighs around my torso, I climb to my feet, and nestle my nose into her hair. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe.”

She nods, keeping her tight hold on me, not objecting as I guide us out of her room.

“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight,” I declare to my own surprise, leading us toward her bathroom sink and unplugging the two nightlights there to take with me.

I trail a few kisses on the side of her neck as I carry her down the hall to my bedroom, holding her against my chest as if my heart is beating outside of it.

Fucking hell, what am I saying?

What am I even doing?

I don’t know, but right now isn’t the time to analyze it.

Flipping the comforter on my bed, I gently lay her on her back. She only loosens her arms around my neck enough for me to lift up but not detach completely. With her arms still crossed behind my neck, I gaze into those beautiful golden pools of honey.

Lifting my fingers to her face, I dab the corner of her eyes with my thumb, wiping away her lingering tears. If there is something I never wanted to witness again, it’s her fucking tears. They’re like spears stabbing an empty cavity inside my chest, threatening to lodge themselves there.

“I’m going to plug in your nightlights and come right back,” I whisper, closer to her lips than I should be.

A moment’s hesitation passes before she nods, dropping her arms to her sides.

I slide into bed a minute later, switching off the lamp on my nightstand. I only linger on the thought of what to do next for a second before my hands reach for her. Before I can stop myself, I’m pulling her to me—her chest to mine, her head tucked under my neck, and her arms crossed behind my back—combing my fingers down the strands of her silky hair. I listen to her soft breaths against the dark silence of my room.

Kavi makes circles over my skin with the tip of her finger, her smooth legs slipping between my calves. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

Her lips send tremors down my spine.

“You didn’t wake me.”

A beat of silence passes, and I wonder if she’s moved on to another thought, but then she lifts her head, seeking out my eyes. “Then . . . how did you know I was—” Her gaze shifts, not wanting to admit how I found her, in the grips of her nightmare, just minutes ago. “How did you find me there?”

“I. . .” Damn it. I try to make something up, not wanting to admit I left my room to see her, but doing exactly that. “I came to see if you were awake.”

Her eyes scan my face. “You came to check on me?”

“Go to sleep.” I tuck her face back into my neck, making her giggle.

She finds her way back up to stare at me again. “Were you—” She licks her lips, her heart thumping against my chest. “Did you miss me, Mr. Case?”

“About as much as I miss my dentist,” I respond, hoping my attempt at humor masks whatever this is lingering between us. “I came to tell you about Belinda.”

Kavi gasps. “Oh, my God! She said she was feeling something called Braxton Hicks a couple of days ago. Did she have the baby?”

I grin down at her. “A baby girl.” I reach behind me for my phone to show her the picture of baby Evelyn.

Kavi coos, holding my phone toward her. “She’s perfect. I can’t wait to see her. Maybe I’ll visit her in the next few days.”

I put my phone back, wanting to ask her if she wants kids in the future, but I stop myself. I have no business asking her that.

But for some reason, I’m curious.

She’d make a great mother—sweet, nurturing, and attentive—though there’s no question the kid would be dressed in a line of interesting outfits. And for reasons I can’t explain, the thought heats the inside my chest like an oven. Igniting, burning, and charring.

The thought of Kavi mothering someone else’s baby makes me feel like I’m being boiled from the inside.

Kavi traces the tattoo on my shoulder with her finger, distracting me from my unwanted thoughts. “I hadn’t seen your tattoo until earlier today. Is it armor?”

“Something I had done a long time ago.”

“It’s so intricate, reaching all the way over your heart, like it’s guarding it.”

I don’t answer.

Little does she know, it’s taking a lot more than skin-deep ink to guard what’s under the surface.

“Do you have any more?”

“One of the Earth on my back.”

She nods solemnly. “That makes sense.”

“Are you implying the armor doesn’t?”

She thinks about it, her tone wistful. “No, it makes sense, too.”

The faint scent of warm vanilla fills my nostrils, and I instinctively squeeze her closer, taking a deep breath and shutting my eyes. It’s truly inconvenient that she feels so good in my arms.

I reopen my eyes to scan the silent darkness. “What was your nightmare?”

She stiffens. “Just something . . . irrelevant.”

I tuck a finger under her chin, lifting it. As much as I know I shouldn’t urge, shouldn’t get involved, or further sucked in to whatever this is between us, I can’t help being curious. “You can tell me.”

She sighs, relenting. “It’s a nightmare I often have, unfortunately. Being locked inside a dark room, screaming for someone to let me out.”

My lips curve downward, my arms tightening over her protectively. “Has something like that happened to you?”

Her forehead meets my chest again with an imperceptible but definite nod, and my hackles rise.

Why was she locked inside a room like that?

I want to ask her, probe further, but her yawn has me keeping my words fastened behind my lips. It’s probably not the right time to ask anyway, seeing as she had just awakened from the same nightmare.

She takes an unabashed whiff of my chest, trailing her nose over my collarbone and making my already hard cock strain against my boxers. Everything about her is warm and soft, from the way she feels in my arms to the way she feels inside my chest.

“Do you know how much I love the way you smell?”

I chuckle softly. “I’m starting to get the idea. Plus, you told Corbin it was your favorite scent.”

She stills. “You remember that?”

I run a hand through her silky hair, letting it slip through my fingers. “I remember everything.” I want to end that sentence with, “when it comes to you,” but I hold myself from admitting that out loud.

“Do you—” She clears her throat. “Do you remember the way that night ended?”

“Yes.” I’m quiet for a few seconds.

“Did you mean what you said?”

I don’t need to ask her to clarify. She means the part when I told her she was perfect. Yeah, I remember that, too.

My lips twitch. “Are you fishing for compliments, Ms. Jain?”

“What? No!” She shakes her head all too defensively. “I was just—”

“I meant every word.”

I feel her smile against my skin and fuck, there’s that damn warmth again.

I’m sure she can feel my erection between us—I’ve been stiff since I picked her up in her bedroom—but we’re clearly pretending it’s not there since we agreed nothing can be done about it, anyway.

It was a one-time thing, I remind myself while wondering why the hell I decided on such a cruel form of torture.

“Can I ask you something?” Her swallow is audible.

“You haven’t asked for permission until now.”

“After we kissed for the first time in your office . . .” She shifts, and I gather she’s digging deeper for courage. “You just disappeared. Where did you go?”

“I have a ranch a few miles outside of the city. I decided I’d sleep at the farmhouse for a couple of days.”

She gasps. “The location of Madison and Brie’s wedding?”

I nod. “Maddy and I lived in that farmhouse for a few years when she was younger, so she has a lot of memories of it.”

“Do you go there often?”

I shrug. “When I can or when I need a breather. I have someone who comes and takes care of it when I’m not there.”

“You needed a breather from me.”

Clearly, she focused on only a specific part of my response. She didn’t state it as a question, but I gather there’s one there.

“Only to realize that I liked the scent of lemons and vanilla too much to stay away from it.” I bury my nose in her hair. “I guess we have that in common, too.”