Chapter 11 Hudson
Six months later.
Iwoke up to the smell of burning toast and Betty's voice cursing from the kitchen.
Some things never changed.
I smiled and stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in muscles that had gotten a thorough workout last night. We'd celebrated the six-month anniversary of the trial verdict, and Betty had been enthusiastic. Not that I was complaining.
I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and padded out to the kitchen, where Betty stood in front of the toaster, waving smoke away from her face with one hand while the other held open the window.
"Need some help?" I asked.
She spun around, her cheeks flushed. She was wearing one of my t-shirts and nothing else, her hair wild from sleep, and she looked so damn beautiful it made my chest ache.
"The toaster is possessed," she said. "I swear I was watching it."
"You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
I crossed to her and kissed her forehead, then reached around her to turn off the toaster. "Why don't you let me handle breakfast?"
"Because I wanted to do something nice for you for once."
"You do nice things for me all the time."
"Like what?"
I leaned in close, my lips brushing her ear. "Like the thing you did with your tongue last night."
She shivered, her breath catching.
"That was very nice. I'd like to request an encore sometime."
I grinned and pulled back, grabbing the burned toast and tossing it in the trash. "Go sit down. I'll make breakfast."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue, settling onto one of the barstools at the counter while I got to work on eggs and bacon.
The past six months had been the best of my life.
I'd set up a regional office for Black Hawk downtown, hiring a full staff and delegating enough that I wasn't constantly traveling. I still took the occasional high-profile job when it required my personal attention, but for the most part, I was here. With Betty.
We'd fallen into an easy rhythm. Mornings together before she headed to the bar. Nights curled up on the couch or in bed, talking and touching and making up for lost time. Weekends spent exploring the city or just being lazy, wrapped up in each other.
It was everything I'd never let myself hope for.
And I wanted more.
The ring had been burning a hole in my pocket for three weeks now. A simple platinum band with a round diamond, nothing too flashy. Betty wasn't the flashy type.
But every time I thought about asking her, the words got stuck in my throat. What if it was too soon? What if she wasn't ready? What if she said no?
"You're thinking too hard," Betty said, interrupting my spiral. "I can practically hear your brain grinding."
I forced a smile. "Just planning my day."
"Liar." She came around the counter and slid her arms around my waist from behind, pressing her cheek against my back. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
"Nothing."
"Hudson Cole, you are the worst liar I've ever met. Tell me what's wrong."
I turned in her arms, looking down at her. She was so beautiful. So fierce and stubborn and perfect.
And I was an idiot for being scared.
"Nothing's wrong," I said. "I was just thinking about how lucky I am."
She smiled and went up on her tiptoes to kiss me. "I'm the lucky one. You know that, right?"
I kissed her again, deeper this time, and felt her melt against me. My hands slid down to cup her ass, and she gasped.
"Hudson, the eggs are going to burn."
"Fuck the eggs." I lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her legs.
She laughed, the sound bright and happy, and wrapped her arms around my neck. "The eggs. Seriously."
"Fine." I stepped back reluctantly and turned off the stove. "But this conversation isn't over."
We ate breakfast at the kitchen table, like we did every morning. Normal stuff. Domestic stuff. The kind of life I'd never thought I'd have.
"So," Betty said, pushing her empty plate away. "What are you really not telling me?"
I blinked. "What?"
"You've been weird all morning. Distracted. And you keep touching your pocket like you're checking for something." Her eyes narrowed. "Spill."
Shit. She knew me too well.
"I was going to wait," I said slowly. "I had this whole plan. Dinner at that Italian place you love, candlelight, the whole thing."
"Wait for what?"
My heart was pounding. This wasn't how I'd planned it. But maybe that was the point. Maybe the perfect moment wasn't some orchestrated event.
Maybe the perfect moment was just this. The two of us, in our kitchen, in the middle of our ordinary, extraordinary life.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring box.
Betty's eyes went wide.
"I've loved you for twelve years," I said. "Through everything. Through all the time apart, all the mistakes I made, all the years I spent watching you from a distance because I was too much of a coward to come back."
"Hudson."
"You're it for me, Betty. You always have been.
" I opened the box, revealing the ring. "I don't want to spend another day of my life wondering what if.
I want to spend every day proving to you that I'm worthy of you.
So..." I got down on one knee, right there on the kitchen floor. "Betty Ramirez, will you marry me?"
Tears were streaming down her face. She pressed her hands to her mouth, her whole body trembling.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, of course I'll marry you."
Relief and joy flooded through me so intensely I felt dizzy. I slid the ring onto her finger, then stood and pulled her into my arms, kissing her with everything I had.
"I love you," I said against her lips.
"I love you too." She pulled back, looking at the ring on her finger with wonder. "It's beautiful."
I'd spent ten years in the cold, watching her from a distance, telling myself I was doing the right thing by staying away.
I'd been an idiot.
Betty was mine. And I was hers.
Forever.