18. Hudson
18
HUDSON
I look at the time, nerves dancing in my chest, knowing that the delivery I had organized was just dropped off to the distillery. It has been a few days since our date, and I have purposefully kept busy, because if I don’t, I’m likely to want to see her every damn day. Our little text banter just now has me floating on cloud nine, but I need to keep cool. If I move too fast, it will have her running from me. I need to go slow and steady with Lacy.
“So your date went well, then?” my brother, Huxley, says from the other end of the phone. He has been trying to get it out of me for the entire call, my mother obviously filling him in on the details that she knows.
“It was great,” I say, not wanting to deep dive into it with him just yet.
“And…” he teases, and I laugh at him, trying to relax my wound-up body, but my knee is bouncing nervously under my desk .
“Shit, was that a laugh? Did you just laugh?” my brother teases again.
“I laugh all the time.” I scoff at him as I shuffle some paperwork to distract myself.
“You haven’t laughed like that in a long time,” he says honestly, and I pause, frowning. He’s right. The amount of smiling and laughing I have been doing since I moved back to Whispers has far surpassed anything in the last few years. The realization of that fact is somewhat sobering. I never regret anything in life, but I now understand that I haven’t been myself for a long time, and it feels good to be back.
“I think I’m coming out the other side of things.” I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “Amanda was great, obviously. I learned to love her, and we went through a lot. Shit, I have Harvey because of her, but…” I pause, trying to gather my thoughts.
“But what?” Huxley pushes me, and I roll my head to release the built-up tension in my shoulders.
“I just didn’t have this instant power pull toward her like I find with Lacy,” I admit. “I can’t explain it. I just find Lacy so refreshing, so interesting, so fun to be around, and so engaging.” And smart, sexy, witty, caring—God, the list goes on.
“You married Amanda because it was the right thing to do. You promised her that you will look after Harvey, and you loved her as best you could in the time you had together. But now you are older, maybe a little bit wiser. You know what you want, what you need, and if Lacy is making you feel again, then I say go for it,” my brother tells me, and I think about his words .
“You don’t think age is a problem here? I mean, she is fresh out of college,” I tell him, scrubbing my face, knowing that is something the town is going to really sink their teeth into.
“What is she? Twenty-three, twenty-four? I don’t know her well, but I know her well enough to say that she is more mature than most thirty-year-olds I meet. She has her head on right. She’s smart, confident, not to mention, totally stunning. She is the whole package, and I think you would be stupid to let her go.”
“Harvey loves her too.” My son talks about her all the time, and knowing he is at the distillery with her now fills me with joy.
“So you have already introduced them?” my brother asks. By the tone in his voice, I can picture him leaning back in his office chair with a smirk on his face.
“No, they’ve met before, through Mom mostly, I think.” Seeing their connection to each other is another thing that makes this so much easier. It won't be weird or awkward to talk about the fact I have a son and introduce them because that is a bridge that has already been crossed.
“Well, that’s one battle you don’t need to even worry about, then,” Huxley says, and I nod, even though he can’t see me.
“What about Amanda’s family? Something tells me they won’t like me moving on, especially with someone so young.” I say the next thing on my mind, because while I never broadcasted my previous dates to them, if I continue dating Lacy and bring Melody to Whispers to care for her mom, then my former in-laws are going to know about it all soon enough. I’m not entirely sure what they are going to think. Amanda was their pride and joy, and I feel like they will take it as a breach of trust or like I’m hurting Amanda’s legacy or something.
“You just need to ask yourself if those people are going to continue to dictate your life, or whether you are going to live your life for how it is best for you and your son. They kept you in LA all this time, purely because they made you feel bad whenever you wanted to leave. They didn’t want you to take Harvey away, even though they didn’t seem to give a fuck about him. But I can tell you now, I think you already know the answer.”
I think on this point and, again, he’s right. Her family has dictated life for me since Amanda passed, and I just haven’t really seen it until now. Their constant calls, their intrusions at Harvey’s school, calling the nannies constantly, yet simultaneously never wanting to spend any quality time with him.
“It’s early days yet,” I tell him, pulling away from the seriousness of this conversation. We have been on one date. I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
“Maybe… so where are you taking her next?” my brother asks, and I scoff.
“She’s a foodie… She’s going to New York for work soon…” There are great restaurants in New York. I have a penthouse there that I use sparingly throughout the year.
“Dinner in the city, I love it.” The decision is obviously made in his mind. I don’t admit to him that I have already called a few surrounding doctors to see if they have availability to cover for me for a few days. Not ideal, since I just arrived here over a month ago, but they were more than willing, so at least the town will be covered medically while I try to win Lacy’s heart.
“Alright, I need to go. I have ten minutes until my next appointment,” I tell him, feeling a little more settled after speaking to him.
“It’s good to hear you laugh again, Hudson. I’ve missed it.”
“It is a good feeling,” I tell him honestly, just as I hear commotion out the front.
“Ahh, I need to go, something is going on.” I end the call quickly and stand up, on alert for an emergency. But before I can take a step, she’s in my open doorway.
“Lacy?” I say, surprised to see her, the grin on my face instant as I look her over. She looks pale, her eyes wild, her breathing rapid. “Everything okay?” I ask, starting to panic slightly, wondering what’s going on.
“You got me butterflies?” she says, panting like she has run a marathon. Her hair is disheveled, like she rushed here, and a slight pink tints her cheeks as her hands grip on to each side of the open doorway for support.
“I did.” I nod, biting my inner cheek to stop my smile from widening. Pocketing my hands, I force myself to stand still, letting her lead because I’m not exactly sure where her head is at.
“Real butterflies. Two of them,” she says again, almost to herself, like she can’t wrap her mind around it.
“I did.” I nod again with my heart in my throat, waiting.
“That’s insane. You’re insane. What are you doing to me?” she asks breathily, looking like she’s feeling a mixture of shock, disbelief, panic, and confusion as to why anyone would do that for her, and my chest vibrates as I start to let go of my facade.
“Doing to you? Hell, Lacy baby, what are you doing to me?” I choke out, not able to stand still any longer. I stride toward her, and she meets me halfway before I grab her hand and pull her to me, sealing her against my chest.
“Hudson.” She whispers my name, as she does each time we are together, before I seal my lips against hers and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her.
As I wrap my hands around her waist tight, her body melts into mine. I feel her soften immediately into my hold as my lips tackle hers thoroughly. I’m not holding back. We’ve been dancing around each other for a few weeks now. Visions of her with the cherry stem, looking after her mom, stargazing, the movies. All of it is now coming together and nothing feels better than having her in my arms.
Seeing her in my office, with a look that is full of both hope and fear, sets my chest on fire in a way it has never been before. She grabs me just as firmly as her hands run up my arms and loop around my neck, pulling me closer as I kiss her more passionately, feverishly, and she holds me to her. One of my hands moves to the back of her head, digging my fingers in her hair, tilting her head where I want her, ensuring she knows exactly how I feel as we both release matching moans into each other’s mouths. Her hair is smooth and silky in my hand, her lips soft and plump against my own, her fingers playing with my hairline at the back of my neck, and her feminine softness is in complete contrast to how we’re kissing. I slow my feverish kiss, wanting to take it all in. Her little sounds hit my lips like torture, and there’s no way I can stay away from her anymore. This is just another moment to solidify that fact.
No more going slow. No more dancing around each other. She is my girl, and now I want the world to know.