Chapter 58
58
Hudson
This should be fun.
I lean against the doorframe, bracing for impact.
There’s a good chance this won’t go well.
Molly opens the door with a look of pure shock on her face. That and horror. Almost like she might throw something sharp at me, like a knife.
Yeah, she remembers last night.
“Morning, wife.” I grin at her, and she meets my grin with a scowl. The face of someone ready to commit homicide.
It’s funny.
While she looks like she wants to throttle me, all I can think of is just how much I want to kiss the shit out of her.
“You have got to be kidding me.” She crosses her arms at her chest. “Please, for the love of God, tell me this isn’t real.”
I hold up my left hand, where the cheap silver band rests. “It’s real.” And I’m brave. Because there’s a full risk she will kill me, but I still smile broader. “And legally binding, I might add. Pretty sure Elvis signed the paperwork.”
Molly groans before dragging a hand down her face. “I hate you so much right now.”
I take a step closer, my large frame invading her space.
She’s cute when she’s mad, and if looks could kill, I’d be currently reading my own obituary.
“Liar.” I lean down and place a kiss on her head, then step around her and walk inside like I own the place. Bold move, since she’s most likely currently plotting my demise.
It takes her a few seconds to shake herself out of the haze she’s in.
“How the hell did this happen?” She crosses the space before plopping down on the couch.
“It started with you saying in the room, and I quote, ‘ You’re so funny , Hudson. I’d totally marry you in Vegas.’”
“Seriously. That was clearly a joke.”
“Was it, though?” I drop down onto the chair perpendicular to the couch. “Because if I remember correctly, you were very excited about it.”
“No, I wasn’t.” She glares at me.
“And then I said once we hit the Strip, ‘ You know, you’re right. We should just get married. Solve all our problems in one shot.’”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“I take it you don’t want me to show you the video of you begging me to marry you, then?”
“I didn’t do that.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. She throws a pillow at me, but I’m too fast and deflect it.
“So that’s a no, you don’t want to see it?”
“Yeah. That’s a no.” Her jaw is locked so tight I’m afraid she might snap.
Honestly, I should probably stop while I’m ahead, but I never pretended to be smart.
“Calm down, Hex. It was all in good fun. It’s not the end of the world.”
She covers her face with her hands and groans again. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
I shrug. “I tried. Sort of. Well, not really. Plus, you said you loved me.”
Her hands drop from her face. “I did not say that.”
“Fine, you didn’t.” I flash her my phone. “You sure you don’t want me to play the recording?”
She lunges for me, but again, I’m too fast for her. I blame it on my stellar hockey reflexes. I pull her onto my lap, and she squirms, trying to break free from my grasp. “Relax. Don’t fight it.” I kiss her head again. “For what it’s worth, you’re a pretty great wife so far.”
Her chest rises sharply, and she blows out a loud, frustrated breath, nostrils flaring and all.
“We’ve been married for less than twelve hours, Hudson.”
“And it’s been the best twelve hours of my life.”
It might be a slight exaggeration, but not by much.
Molly’s face grows serious. A storm is brewing behind her green eyes.
I finally let her go, and Molly sits on the edge of the couch, her shoulders stiff, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looks like she might fall apart if she lets herself go.
Shit.
Teasing is one thing, but I’d never want to hurt my little Hex.
How do I fix this?
I get up from my chair and sit beside her. Taking her hand in mine, I wait for my cue that she needs my help.
She doesn’t speak, and I narrow my gaze, wondering if a panic attack is about to begin.
The quiet in the room feels thick with tension. I wait for her to do something, anything. I need her to lead me.
I don’t want to fuck this up.
Usually, I’d make some dumb joke because that always has a way of helping. But now, it feels like we’re hanging off the side of a building, and I’m the one trying to save us both. No pressure. Fuck, that’s a lot of pressure.
“I’m okay,” she finally says. “I know you’re waiting for me to break.”
“You’re not going to break. You’re strong, Molly. The strongest woman I know.”
She did hold her own in a room full of stuck-up suits who sold condoms for a living, so that has to stand for something. Most people would have crumbled, present company included, but not her.
“It’s not me, it’s you. When you’re around—you have a way of calming me. Always.”
Wait. What? Did she just say that? Did she really say I’m good for her? I want to reach out and touch her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but I refrain. Never know how she will react. The woman tends to give me whiplash, after all.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Hex.” She turns to face me and smiles. I squeeze her hand in mine. “If you’re okay . . .”
“I am.”
“Then I think we should talk about . . . our marriage.”
Molly flinches, and I hate it. “Can we not say that word?”
I lean forward in the chair. “What should I call it? Our Vegas disaster? Or maybe one happy Elvis memory?”
From where she sits beside me, I catch a glimpse of a smile tugging at her lips. It’s faint, like she’s trying to fight it, but it’s there.
“That’s better,” she says dryly.
Progress. I’ll take it.
“All right, one happy Elvis memory, it is.” One I have no intention of forgetting. “But seriously, we need to figure out what we’re doing here.”
She tilts her head up to the sky. “We’re fixing it. And no one can know.”
“Molly,” I say softly, and she brings her head back down to meet my stare. “This isn’t just on you, okay? I was there too. You might have made the joke about getting married, but I agreed. I’m the one who found Elvis. We both said ‘I do’ although, in hindsight, I’m not sure how we did that. The guy was ridiculous.”
She blinks at me, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to laugh.
“Oh, wow, admit it,” I say, grinning now. “You want Elvis. It’s the sideburns, isn’t it? I just can’t compete with face hair like that.”
“Stop,” she says, but her voice is calmer now.
I press on, leaning closer. “I knew it. You’re a sucker for a man in a rhinestone jumpsuit. I’ll see if I can borrow one for our next date.”
That earns me a snort, and she finally meets my eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“Yet here you are. Married to me.” I waggle my eyebrows.
Her fingers knot together on her lap. “Hudson, this isn’t funny.”
“You’re right. It’s not funny. It’s just I don’t know what to say. My default setting is humor.” I take her hands, which are still locked, and place a kiss on her knuckles. “We’ll figure it out. We just need a second to think about it, but I promise it will be okay.”
“Why are you not freaking out?”
“I am freaking out,” I admit. “I got married in Vegas. I’m the biggest joke in the NHL. If this gets leaked, I’m ruined, but freaking out isn’t going to help us, is it?”
She bites her lip, her eyes darting away again. “I just . . . I don’t want this to ruin everything we’ve built. This thing we have? It’s more than a friendship, but not quite a relationship. I’m just not ready to hate you again.”
“Then don’t,” I say firmly, reaching out to take her hands. She stiffens but doesn’t pull away, so I keep going. “Look at me.”
She hesitates, then finally lifts her gaze to mine.
“This doesn’t ruin anything,” I tell her. “You and me? Whatever we are? We’re going to be okay. We won’t go back to being enemies.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and I can see the tension in her shoulders loosen just a fraction. “You promise?”
“I promise,” I say, squeezing her hands for emphasis. “And we will get this sorted because let’s be real here—being married to someone everyone thinks you hate is ridiculous. Even for me. And my standards for ridiculous are pretty high.”
She laughs softly, and it’s the most perfect sound in the world.
“So,” I continue, keeping my tone light, “I think we should find a lawyer. Someone we trust. We’ll get this annulled, and then we can figure out the rest. Together. Deal?”
Molly stares at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. I can practically hear the wheels turning in her head, weighing every word I’ve said.
Finally, she nods. “Deal.”
Her shoulders relax, and I can tell I’ve just brought her the relief she needs. I lean back and grin up at her. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Speak for yourself. I’m still recovering from the trauma of hearing you say, ‘Morning, wife.’”
I laugh, unable to help myself. “Come on, you’ve got to admit that was funny.”
“I almost had a heart attack,” Molly says, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips again. “You almost killed me.”
“Murder isn’t my style.” I shrug. “I’d charm you into submission first.”
She rolls her eyes. “And I’d let you think you succeeded right before I hit you with a pillow.”
“See? Everything is going to be okay.”
“You’re not bad, Wilde.”
“Only the best for my wife,” I say, winking.
Molly groans, shoving my shoulder. “Stop calling me that.”
I let myself fall back on the couch dramatically. “Fine. Whatever you want. I won’t say—Okay. I might. I’m starting to get used to it.” It’s true. I am. More than I should.
She leans over me, her face hovering above mine.
I forget how to breathe.
“Hudson,” she says, her voice softer now. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For . . . not making this harder than it has to be,” she says. “For making me laugh, even when I don’t want to. And for . . .” Her brow furrows slightly. “For not letting this ruin everything.”
I reach up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Molly, you should know by now—nothing about you could ever ruin anything for me.”
Her breath catches.
I think she’s either going to cry or kiss me.
I pray for the latter. But then she pulls back, sitting up and clearing her throat. “Okay. So first thing when we’re back in Redville, we find a lawyer, right?”
“Right.” I sit up and hold out my hand for a shake. “It’s a deal.”
She stares at it, then rolls her eyes. “I’m not shaking on this.”
“A kiss?”
Her big green eyes search mine, and I answer her silent plea by picking her up and walking us toward the bed.
Once I lay her on the bed, it doesn’t take me long to undress her, seeing as she was already in a sleep tank and shorts. When she’s fully naked on the bed, I remove my own clothes, and once naked, I crawl onto the bed, spreading her legs and lining myself up with her core.
I rub the head up and down her slit. I drag it slowly through her drenched skin.
“What are you doing?”
“Patience, Hex. I’m getting my dick nice and wet.”
She reaches her hands up and covers her eyes at my crude words, and it makes me chuckle.
“Don’t get shy on me now.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh, my sassy girl is back.”
“Wilde.”
“Yes.”
“Shut up and fuck me already.”
With one sharp thrust, I give her what she wants, silencing her with my mouth. I kiss her as I move inside her, filling her to the brink. Reaching my one arm around and under her, I lift her hips so I can get deeper.
Being inside her at this angle, this deep, is the best feeling in the world.
My head rolls back as I savor the moment.
It feels like we’re the only people who exist. Nothing else matters but feeling her grip me tightly as she climbs toward her release.
After a beat, I begin to thrust again. Sliding my cock in and out of her.
“Fuck yeah, Hex. I love the way you take my cock.” I groan. “So perfect.”
She takes every inch like a champ, her pussy clamping down so tightly, I can barely breathe. She’s like a vise around my cock, and I fucking love it.
Time ceases to matter when we’re here, like this.
“Need more,” she moans, and I reach my hand to where we are joined, placing my finger on her clit. I rub her in the same rhythm that I sink inside her, throwing her quickly over the edge. The moment her walls start to quiver around me, it throws me over the edge.
“I’m coming.” And I do, my cock jerking inside her, her walls milking me dry.
After my dick stops twitching, I hesitate for a second before pulling out.
If I could do this every day, I will, and hopefully soon, I can.
For a second, we don’t move.
“That was amazing.”
“Well, since I’m pretty sure the Elvis marriage counts as binding until we officially annul it, we might as well keep doing this. Aren’t you so happy you’re stuck with me?”
Molly groans again, but this time, she’s laughing as she does it. “God help me.”
I stand and head to the bathroom, then grab a towel and run some water on it before returning and wiping her off.
She takes the towel from my hand. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. I like taking care of you.”
“For now,” she says, but her tone has no bite.
I grin. “You adore me.”
“Hardly,” she shoots back, but she’s smiling as she says it.
And for now, that’s enough.