Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
HAYES
I found Hudson in his home office, a converted sunroom that overlooked a garden where his daughter’s toys were scattered across the lawn. He was on a video call but waved me in, holding up one finger to signal he’d be done soon.
“Yeah, I’ll have those reports to you by Monday,” he was saying, his tone professional despite the baby monitor next to him crackling with soft whimpers. “No problem.” When the call ended, he swiveled in his chair. “What’s up?”
I hesitated. Hudson wasn’t typically my go-to for much of anything, but that was only because he wasn’t usually available. The guy had spent a good chunk of his life in a bottle. And his advice was not something any sane person would ever listen to. But for some reason, I felt like he might have some good insight into this.
“I’m thinking about asking Dixie to come to the Maldives,” I said.
Hudson raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been dating how long?”
I grimaced. “I don’t think you could call us dating. We hooked up once and then went out the other night.”
Hudson leaned back in his chair, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “So you want to take a woman you barely know on a family trip? To an island? With everyone?”
I shook my head. “When you say it like that, it sounds crazy.”
“Because it is crazy,” Hudson said. “You’ve known this girl what, a week? And you want to throw her into the deep end with the entire Bancroft clan?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I know. But she’s different. I want her to see… everything. Who I really am.”
Hudson’s expression softened. “That’s serious. Especially for you. You’ve never been the type to want someone to see the real you.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But Dixie doesn’t care about the surface stuff. She sees past all the bullshit.”
“You’re worried she will get around us and bail on you,” he said. “Are you testing her?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not testing her. I genuinely want her to be part of this. Part of me.”
“It’s a test, Hayes. You don’t want to give her your heart and then have her cut and run when she realizes where you come from.”
“Maybe a little,” I said. “You guys all found these amazing women that have meshed well with the family. Dixie isn’t like us.”
“You think Diana is?” he asked with a laugh. “No. I don’t think any of us have fallen in love with women people would expect us too. Just because we’re born into wealth doesn’t mean we have to only fall for women of our same social and financial status.” Hudson leaned forward, his expression serious. “Look, bringing someone into our family is like throwing them into the deep end of a very complicated, very loud pool. Are you sure she can handle it?”
“She’s not exactly a shrinking violet. She’s fearless.”
“Fearless doesn’t always mean compatible,” Hudson said. “Remember when Diana first met us? She thought we were insane.”
“And now she’s one of us,” I pointed out.
Hudson nodded. “Fair. But this is different. You’re talking about a family trip. Multiple days. Multiple generations. Chaos. On an island. She can’t just walk away.”
“I know,” I said. “But I think it will be fun.”
Hudson studied me for a moment. “You’re serious about her. I say you have to go for it. You’re always going to second guess yourself if you don’t try. Invite her. Get to know her away from the city. Maybe you’ll learn something about her. Maybe you’ll figure out you’re not compatible. She gets a nice vacation and you two figure out it’s never going to go anywhere.”
I nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Hudson studied me for a moment. “This is different for you. Are you growing up?”
I shrugged. “Maybe I’m changing.”
“Or maybe she’s changing you,” Hudson said softly. “It happens fast. Comes out of nowhere. Diana was the one thing that made me want to get sober. A switch was flipped. Maybe Dixie is the one to pull you off the single’s carousel.”
I nodded, processing his words. “So you think I should invite her?”
“I think you should be honest with her,” Hudson said. “Tell her exactly what she’d be getting into. A massive, loud, potentially chaotic family trip. Give her an out.”
It was the reassurance I needed. “Alright. Thanks, man. I’m going to ask her right now before I change my mind.”
“Good luck. I look forward to meeting her.”
I pulled up outside Dixie’s workshop, a charmingly chaotic garage-like space tucked into a side street most people wouldn’t give a second glance. There were a couple of pieces on display in the window. I wasn’t a furniture expert, but it looked nice. Old, but nice.
I hoped she wouldn’t mind me stopping by without an invitation. I needed to talk to her, but I was also very curious to see where she worked. I wanted to see how she worked.
As I walked in, the smell of sawdust and paint hit me. It was a surprisingly comforting mix. Loud indie rock blared from a speaker in the corner, and there she was, standing at her workbench, sanding the surface of an old dresser.
She wore paint-splattered overalls, safety goggles perched on her nose, and her hair pulled up in a messy bun, with a few strands falling loose around her face. She was utterly absorbed in her work.
I stood there for a moment, just watching her, struck by how effortlessly beautiful she was in her element. Damn, what kind of spell had she woven over me? I was captivated by her.
I cleared my throat to get her attention. She jumped, nearly dropping the sander.
When her eyes landed on me, a smile spread across her face. She pulled off her goggles and turned off the sander, stepping toward me.
“Hayes,” she said, breathless and happy. “What are you doing here?”
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I cupped her face and kissed her, tasting the faint sweetness of strawberries on her lips. She leaned into me, her hands resting on my chest. I felt the tension of my day melt away.
“I wanted to talk to you,” I said, my voice low.
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she slipped off her gloves.
“You left me hanging,” she said. “You said you had to talk to me in person. What’s with the palm tree?”
I chuckled. “You don’t know what a palm tree means?”
She rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile stayed. “Is it a sex thing? I feel like everything I don’t understand is a sex thing.”
I was about to answer but my attention shifted to the workshop. I couldn’t help but admire the organized chaos. There were half-finished projects on every surface, paint swatches taped to the walls, and tools neatly arranged but clearly well used. My gaze landed on a hutch against the far wall, its intricate floral designs catching the light. I walked over and ran my fingers over the smooth, detailed surface.
“Did you paint this?” I asked, glancing back at her.
She nodded, looking a little bashful. “Yeah, I touched it up.”
“This is incredible,” I said, genuinely impressed. “You’ve got some serious talent.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. It’s a passion, I guess.”
“More than a passion,” I said, turning back to the hutch. “This is art.”
She shrugged, but I could see the hint of pride in her smile. “Thank you. I think so, but I don’t know if everyone else feels the same.”
“Fuck them.”
She giggled softly. “That’s one way to put it.”
After a moment, I turned to face her fully. “So, about the palm tree.”
She wiped her hands on a cloth. I noticed the dark stain on her fingertips. I loved that she didn’t mind getting her hands dirty, like actually dirty. “So it’s a dick, right?” she asked. “I know it’s usually the eggplant, but I can’t keep up with texting etiquette.”
“It wasn’t a dick.” I laughed and shook my head. “My family’s planning a vacation to the Maldives before my father’s wedding. I’d like you to come with me.”
Her jaw dropped. “The Maldives? Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I know it’s short notice, and we haven’t known each other that long yet, so?—”
“Yet?” she interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
I smirked. “Nothing gets past you, huh?”
“Not a thing.”
“All I meant was, I’d understand if you weren’t comfortable going because it’s so soon after meeting. And my family is a little… well, a lot.”
“The Maldives. I don’t even know what country that is.”
I laughed at her honesty. “It’s a tropical paradise, somewhere far away from all this.” I gestured around the cluttered workshop. “Beautiful beaches, clear water, incredible sunsets. It’s a place to escape, to relax, to recenter yourself.”
She bit her lip, considering. “And you want me to come? Just like that?”
“Just like that,” I confirmed with a nod. “I want you to be part of this adventure with me.”
Dixie leaned back against her workbench, folding her arms as she looked at me, a playful twinkle in her eye. “You want to take a girl you barely know to meet your family in the Maldives? What if your family thinks I’m beneath you?”
“I’ll tell them I prefer you on top.”
She giggled and shook her head. “I’m serious.”
“So am I. But they won’t have a problem with you.”
Dixie tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Okay, I’m in.”
I tried to play it cool, but inside, I was doing a victory lap. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, her excitement bubbling over. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to go to the Maldives? I’ve seen pictures but obviously I’ve never been.”
My grin matched hers. “I’ll take care of everything. Flights, accommodations?—”
“Hayes,” she said, cutting me off. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I insisted. “And when we get there, I’ll have some things waiting for you. Dresses, bikinis, towels… I just want you to feel like you belong.”
Her brows shot up. “Feel like I belong? What’s that supposed to mean?”
I realized how it sounded and quickly backtracked. “I mean, I want you to feel welcome and I don’t want this vacation to be a burden on you. So it’s my treat. I’m just looking out for you.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she gave me a shy smile. “I like when you look out for me.”
That was all the invitation I needed. I stepped closer, gesturing to the sander. “I know you’re working with that thing, but if you’re interested, I have another tool you might want to work with.”
“Like a palm tree?” Her lips parted, and a soft gasp escaped as I reached for the zipper on her overalls. I moved slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop me, but she didn’t.
“Anyone else working here?” I asked with my lips brushing against her temple.
She shook her head, her eyes half-closed as she whispered, “No, it’s just us.”
“Good.” My fingers finished their journey with the zipper.
Underneath, she wore a sports bra and a pair of cute little shorts. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I never knew this was a look I was attracted to, but damn, it turned out I liked a girl who worked with her hands.
“Dixie,” I breathed, running my hands over her hips. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“I get it. Trust me, I feel the same way.”
My hands brushed over her breasts. “Is a customer going to walk in?”
She shook her head, her breath hitching. “The door locks.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ll lock it.”