While We Waited (Smuggler’s Hideaway #3)

Chapter 15

Poopy diapers – a reason for Nova to fall in love

Nova

“Y ou’re going the wrong way,” I tell Hudson when he turns left out of the parking lot of the hospital.

His response? He grunts.

“A grunt is not a response, Captain Cranky.”

He sighs. “We’re not going the wrong way.”

“I think I know the way from my house to the hospital.”

The smuggler knows I’ve driven it enough times. Between Dad and Mom being sick and my own irrational fears for my health, I’ve seen the inside of the Smuggler’s Hideaway hospital more times than I care to admit.

“We’re not going to your house.”

It’s like pulling teeth with this man. “Where are we going?”

“To my place.”

A current of excitement travels through me. Hudson is practically a hermit. He doesn’t invite people over. But he’s bringing me to his place. Me? The woman who he couldn’t stand less than a week ago.

I wonder what his place looks like. A typical bachelor pad? Or a sterile hotel room?

I squash those thoughts. I don’t want to see Hudson’s place. I want to go home. I ignore the tiny voice in my mind shouting I’m a liar. I’m not lying. I do want to go home.

“Why are we going to your house?” A thought occurs to me and I nearly thump my forehead with realization. There must be an emergency. Why else would he bring me to his house? I’m not special to him.

“Is there an emergency? You can drop me off at the side of the road. I’ll have one of my girlfriends pick me up.”

“I am not dropping you at the side of the road.”

“It’s fine. It’s not raining.”

“I am not dropping you at the side of the road. I’m taking care of you.”

Hudson needs to stop taking care of me. He needs to stop bringing me groceries and preparing me soup. He needs to stop rushing to my side when I’m in the hospital. He needs to stop, period.

Because if he doesn’t, I’m going to fall in love with this man. Which would be a disaster of mermaid proportions since the man couldn’t stand me until he found out I was pregnant.

“You don’t need to take care of me because you’re the father of the baby I’m carrying.”

“Okay,” he grumbles.

Okay? Isn’t he going to say more? Explain himself perhaps. I wait a few seconds but he doesn’t elaborate.

“Can’t you drop me off real quick at my house before you rush off to whatever emergency there is at the resort?”

“No emergency.”

“No emergency?” My brow wrinkles. “Why are we going to the resort if there isn’t an emergency?”

He grunts again.

I wag my finger at him. “A grunt is not an answer, Sir Grunts-a-Lot.”

“I’ll tell you when we arrive.”

“Why not tell me now? Is it a secret? Are you afraid your truck is bugged?”

“My truck is bugged?”

“Aha! You are afraid your truck is bugged.”

He barks out a laugh but coughs to cover it up. “My truck is not bugged. Why would my truck be bugged?”

“I don’t know. Why won’t you explain yourself in the truck if it’s not bugged?”

“I won’t explain myself and you jump to the conclusion that my truck is bugged?”

What can I say? If jumping to conclusions was an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold-medal contender. I probably shouldn’t admit that to Hudson, though. The grump puts up with me because I’m carrying his child. He doesn’t need to know about all of my issues.

I rub a hand over my belly. Although, I think he’s got the hypochondriac issue figured out by now.

His gaze catches on my hand. “Are you okay? Do you want to return to the hospital?”

I snort. “Ah, no. I prefer to limit my hospital visits to one a day.”

“If you need to go to the hospital, we’re going.”

He switches on his turn signal, but I reach across the console and grab his wrist to stop him.

“I promise I don’t need the hospital.”

He studies me for a moment before switching off the turn signal and continuing straight down the road to his resort.

“Why did you decide to establish Hideaway Haven Resort ?”

He shrugs. “It was a good business opportunity. There weren’t enough hotels on Smuggler’s Hideaway to accommodate the number of tourists.”

I tuck my ankle beneath my knee and swivel to face him. Hudson isn’t much of a talker. I’ve got him talking now, though. I’m not one to waste an opportunity.

“But why an upscale resort?”

“My business manager suggested it.”

“You have a business manager?”

He nods.

“Do you enjoy managing the resort?”

He shrugs.

I guess he’s done talking.

“You’ve obviously been successful. You added several chalets to the property this year.”

“The chalets were always part of the plan.”

“Really? Cool. Paisley drafted the business plan for Five Fathoms Brewing but we don’t have a second phase. Make beer. Sell it at the restaurant. End of plan.”

“And distribute it all over the East Coast.”

“I can’t believe people in New York City and Miami are drinking our beer, but they are.”

“It’s good beer.”

I clutch my chest. “Did Mr. Grouchypants give me a compliment? The shock!” I dissolve into giggles at my own joke.

“We’re here,” Hudson announces as he turns into a driveway. He continues driving until we reach a chalet in the woods. It reminds me of the other chalets at the resort. One chalet in particular comes to mind. My body warms as I’m reminded of all the dirty things Hudson did to me there.

Hudson parks the truck and I grasp the handle.

“No,” he barks.

“No, what? You want me to wait in the truck? I can wait in the truck.” I dig out my phone. “I need to call my girls and tell them I won’t be in to work today anyway.”

“You’re not waiting in the truck.”

“Maybe I should rename you Mr. Confusing. You tell me to wait in the truck and then complain I can’t wait in the truck. Confusing.”

“I didn’t tell you to wait in the truck. I want to open your door for you.”

“Oh.”

Hudson reaches over to shut my mouth. “Gentlemen open doors for women.”

I scan the area. “Where’s this gentleman you speak of?”

His lips tip up in a near smile.

“You smiled! I win!”

He shakes his head before exiting the vehicle. I watch as he rounds the front to get to my door. I could watch Hudson walk all day. There’s a reason the man was voted sexiest NFL player three years in a row.

He opens the door and I reach for his hand. But he doesn’t accept it. He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the front door of his chalet.

“I’d protest I can walk but being carried is too nice. Lead me into your home, peasant man!”

He unlocks the door with a flip of his wrist and sets me on my feet in the foyer. I glance around the room.

“Holy mermaids swimming in the sea! This place is awesome.”

I may be prone to exaggeration but not this time. The chalet is similar to the one we spent the night in but it’s at least twice the size. It’s an open concept and it is huge. The wraparound sofa in the living area probably seats twenty. Ten if they’re Hudson-sized.

In the middle of the open area is a table for ten. Next to the table is the kitchen. The kitchen countertops stretch to the opposite end of the chalet. I hurry to the glass doors there.

“There’s no pool.”

If I sound disappointed, it’s because I am. I seriously love pools.

“I love to swim. Someday I’m going to earn enough to have a pool installed in my back yard.”

“We live on an island. You can swim in the ocean.”

I rear back. “Swim in the ocean? No way. Sand gets everywhere and the salt dries out your skin. Give me a pool any day. I love the smell of chlorine in the morning.”

“You’re a nutcase.”

I bow. “Thank you. My mission here is complete. Speaking of complete, why are you still here? Why aren’t you handling whatever it is you urgently need to handle so I can get home?”

I don’t know why I’m complaining. This place is more awesome than visiting a mermaid in her house in Atlantis.

“Um.” Hudson scratches his neck. “I want you to stay here until Sprog is born.”

I pretend to clean out my ears. “You want me to stay here until Sprog is born?”

“I can’t take care of you if you’re on the other side of the island.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m fifteen minutes away.”

“Fifteen minutes is too long if you need me.”

Oh no. I’m in danger of melting into a puddle of goo on his perfectly oiled wooden floors. Mr. Crabby isn’t supposed to want to take care of me.

“I have everything you need here. A cleaner comes in every other day. The refrigerator and pantry are stocked with food. You can order whatever you want from the resort’s restaurant or I’ll cook for you. You can use the gym and all the other facilities at the resort. There are several pools.”

I nearly groan with how wonderful it all sounds. I can cook, but I don’t enjoy it. And cleaning is my least favorite thing in the world, especially since the cleaning liquids now make me gag.

“You don’t need to do this.”

“Yes, I do.”

I roll my eyes. “Just because I’m having your baby doesn’t mean you need to switch into caveman mode.”

He stalks toward me until he’s within reaching distance. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m not doing this just for Sprog. I want you to be taken care of, too.”

“And once Sprog is born, I’ll return to my house?”

He shrugs. “If you want to, but you have to admit it’d be handy if you lived here. I could help with midnight feedings and poopy diapers.”

My mouth drops open. “You’re going to change poopy diapers?”

“Bring it on. It won’t be my first poopy diaper. I practically raised my younger brothers. And Sawyer refused to be potty trained.”

“You’re serious.” He wants us to live together after the baby’s born. We could raise the baby together. We’d be a family. An unusual family since Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be together. But still. A family.

Uh oh. I’m not going to fall in love with Hudson sometime in the future. I already am.