Beautiful Collide (Saints Of Redville #3)

Chapter 73

73

Molly

The following morning comes faster than I expect, and surprisingly, I feel great.

As shocking as it seems, I slept. And honestly, it was probably the best sleep of my life.

I’m going to try not to read into why. Hudson. It’s all him.

Even now, just thinking of waking up in his arms, has a smile spreading across my face.

Damn, I got it bad. So bad, that I really want to tell him that we should forgo going outside and go for round two instead.

The screen door slams shut behind me as Hudson steps out onto the porch, his boots thudding heavily against the wooden planks.

He turns to face me, that easy grin plastered on his face, and gestures toward the property stretching out before us.

“Well, Hex.” Hudson shoves his hands into his pockets. “Ready for the next part of your grand tour of the Wilde farm?”

I glance at him, squinting against the late-morning sun. In the fresh light of the day, the farm looks so peaceful.

It’s obvious why Hudson loves to come here.

Hell, I haven’t been here that long and I already love it too.

The grass is sprawling. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s almost as though it stretches out all the way toward the horizon.

None of this feels real.

A picture-perfect red barn sits off in the distance, and I can just make out a weathered fence that wraps around the whole property.

It’s unreal, straight out of my dreams.

“Do I have a choice?” I joke, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Not really,” he says, his grin widening. “Come on. This is the fun part.”

“The fun part?” Together, we walk farther onto the property.

“Welcome to the farm.” He spreads his arms wide as he leads us toward our first stop.

Up close, the barn is exactly how I imagined it.

It’s straight out of a movie, with red paint, a slightly crooked roof, and the faint smell of hay.

Perfection.

“You’re going to love this.” Hudson pushes open the doors.

The first thing I see is the stalls for the horses. “You have horses?” I say, shock evident in my voice.

“We do.”

“Wow. You really are a man with secrets.” I laugh before walking farther into the barn to see what else Hudson’s been hiding from me all these years.

Obviously, it wasn’t intentional since I never allowed myself to get to know him. But now that I am, I really like this side of him.

“This,” Hudson says, pointing at a dusty corner near the back, “is where I learned how to skate.”

I blink, confused. “In the barn?”

“Yep,” he says, grinning. “My dad made me an indoor rink. I’d spend hours in here practicing.”

“That’s . . . surprisingly resourceful,” I say, impressed.

He shrugs. “When you’re a farm kid, you make do with what you’ve got. I didn’t step foot on a real rink until I was eight.”

“Eight?” I echo, surprised. “But you’re so good. How did you catch up so fast?”

He smirks. “Talent, Hex. Pure, natural talent.”

I roll my eyes because he’s ridiculous.

Next, we visit the chicken coop, where a flock of hens cluck and peck at the ground.

“Meet the ladies.” Hudson gestures grandly.

A laugh bubbles up. They have chickens. Of course, they do.

How did I peg him so wrong?

Everything I thought I knew about Hudson is the opposite of the truth.

I always assumed he was raised in an affluent family from a city. Which couldn’t be further from the reality.

Wow. I was off.

Another giggle breaks loose when I see a feisty-looking hen flap her wings and glare at me. “They seem . . . territorial.”

“They’re harmless.” He reaches down to pick one up. “Mostly.”

I take a cautious step back as he cradles the hen in his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Wanna hold her?” He holds the hen out to me.

“Absolutely not.” I cross my arms.

He laughs, setting the hen back down. “City girl,” he teases.

“And damn proud of it,” I shoot back.

The last stop on the tour is the pasture, where a couple of horses graze lazily.

“Do you ride?” Hudson asks as we approach the fence.

“No.”

“Never?”

“Once when I was a kid,” I admit. “But that was at a party, and it wasn’t even riding. It was more like being led around in a circle.”

“Well”—he leans on the fence—“maybe we’ll change that while you’re here.”

I glance at him, half expecting him to be joking, but his expression is sincere.

“I don’t know,” I say, hesitant.

“You’ll love it,” he says, his voice soft. “It’s one of the best feelings in the world. Don’t worry, it won’t be for a few days. Relax.”

I stare at the horses, their movements calm and unhurried, and for a moment, I let myself imagine it—riding through the fields, the wind in my hair, the world quiet and peaceful.

“Maybe,” I say finally.

Hudson grins, and I feel something in my chest loosen.

By the time we head back to the house, the sun is high in the sky.

I’m tired, my legs ache from walking, and I have dirt smudged on my jeans, but I feel . . . lighter.

“This place,” I say as we climb the porch steps. “It’s special.”

“Yeah.” Hudson holds the door open for me. “It is.”

And as I step inside, I realize something I hadn’t before.

For the first time in years, I feel like I belong.