Lucy
My otherwise perfectly fine day had taken a swift left turn as I considered the back of my SUV that evening. Half of my new couch was hanging out, the bungee cords I’d rigged up to support it hanging uselessly alongside.
The garage sale had had a few items I needed, including the love seat that would fit perfectly in my living room—just not so perfectly in my SUV apparently. Something I’d unfortunately realized while still a few blocks from home.
I was considering my options, including leaving the damn thing, when headlights flashed behind me. I turned to look as a now-familiar black truck pulled to the curb, inwardly groaning at my luck when Hudson jumped out.
Instead of looking smug as he had this morning at the coffee shop, his expression was that of concern as he stalked toward me.
“You okay? What happened?” he demanded by way of greeting.
“I’m fine,” I assured him, dumbfounded by why he’d look so concerned. “I just seem to have underestimated the size of my vehicle.” I hooked a thumb toward my SUV with a wince.
He appeared to fight a chuckle, regarding me warmly. “Would seem so,” he agreed. “Good thing it looks like it would fit just right in the back of my truck.” He still looked as though he was suppressing a smile.
“Oh no, I’m fine,” I was quick to say, shaking my head.
He cocked his head as though enjoying this interaction entirely too much. “Oh yeah? So, what’s the plan here then?”
I looked at my SUV and then back to him. “Well, I think maybe it looks good right about here,” I mumbled.
He grinned, displaying a dimple that made my stomach do a full summersault. “Oh yeah? Going to decorate the curb up real nice then?”
I narrowed my gaze, hands going to my hips. “Maybe.”
His countenance softened as though sensing how far my stubbornness could truly take us.
“The curb is nice and all, but somehow I don’t think that’s what you intended.
So, how about we use my truck so you’re not out whatever you paid, and this thing doesn’t become a moldy mess with the thunderstorm we’re about to get?
I’ll help you carry it inside and be out of your hair.
” He held up his hands in a show of sincerity just as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead.
My shoulders slumped as I realized I had no other option. “Okay, thank you,” I relented. “I live just a few minutes up the road.”
“I’m Hudson, by the way.” He extended a hand. “We haven’t been properly introduced.”
“Lucy,” I replied as his callused hand wrapped around mine and squeezed.
“Nice to meet you. And it’s no problem,” he assured me as he moved to drop his tailgate. “You okay to help me lift that end?” He nodded toward the end of the couch closest to me as the first drops of rain began to fall.
“Yep,” I agreed, and we lifted the couch together, carrying it to his truck. He did all the heavy lifting, with me merely directing as we slid it into the bed of his truck.
“I’ll follow you,” he stated with a nod before climbing into his truck and firing up the engine.
I rushed to my SUV, closed the hatch, and jumped into the driver’s seat, hoping that despite my scrambled brain I remembered how to get to my new place.
Luckily, I had no trouble, and we were pulling up within a few minutes, just as the rain began to fall in earnest.
He was already out of the truck, the tailgate dropped. As I reached him, lightning cracked overhead, making me jump.
“We should hurry,” he coaxed.
I nodded in agreement as he slid the couch out of the truck bed, and I caught the end. Together, we carried it up my walkway, the front steps creaking under our weight. “One sec,” I panted, carefully setting down my end so I could unlock the door.
We guided the couch through the doorway into the dark front room, placing it just where I’d envisioned, facing the television.
“Didn’t get too wet I don’t think,” he muttered, surveying the couch as I hit the lights, wincing as they only served to illuminate the wood-paneled glory of my humble abode. I could only imagine what his place was like.
“It’s outdated, but….” I trailed off.
“It’s cozy.” He was quick to interject. “It has a good layout in here.” He nodded, looking around, his appraisal holding no judgement as he eyed my place. “Got a lot to work with. And the couch is a nice addition.” He grinned.
“Thank you for your help,” I murmured. “I guess it does look slightly better in here than on a curb a few miles back.” I wrinkled my nose as though pained to admit it.
“Glad you think so.” He stared at me patiently, waiting for me to make the next move. And while my sanity would be far better off putting space between us, my manners got the best of me.
“Do you want to stay for a beer or something? I just went to the store.” I gestured toward my fridge, which was now stocked full. “I also have water and, um, well, that’s about it.” I shrugged.
He eyed me steadily with that intensity of his that, though I was becoming slightly more accustomed to it, still made my knees weak. “Beer’s good.” He raised a brow toward my fridge. “That thing works?”
“So far.” I laughed as I twisted the caps off two beers, handing him one. “Believe me, I’m as surprised as you. Do you want to sit out front? I love watching the weather come in.”
“I’d like that.” He followed me out to the two rockers on the front porch as a large clap of thunder sounded overhead.
“Holy shit, that’s close,” he muttered, his gaze to the sky.
“I love thunderstorms. You can feel the weather in your bones. The hair raises on your arms. Such a reminder of how powerful Mother Nature is.”
He looked over at me in surprise. “I always thought that too. I love how the weather’s so moody here. In my travels, I haven’t found the likes of it.”
“I always intended to travel more,” I admitted. “But we had some pretty good summer thunderstorms in DC. Kept things green year-round.”
“Do you miss it?” he asked, his blue eyes probing as I turned my gaze to the sky.
“Too soon to tell,” I replied quietly. “Though, even after a little more than a day, it feels good here.” I sighed. “I was always close to my aunt and cousin, even though we lived so far away. It feels good to be closer. And the town, the land—it all feels right in a way.”
“What about your folks? Where are they?”
“In DC,” I replied, grimacing at how many calls I’d declined. “They’re not very supportive of my move,” I admitted, surprised I’d said as much.
“Oh?” he prompted.
“My parents are…” I searched for the right words. “Tough. They wanted things for me, a life for me that never quite resonated. I guess I’d finally had enough.”
“Good for you. I bet that was fucking hard.”
There was something about the way he said it—so genuinely—that had tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “Thanks. It was. So how about you? Your family’s here?”
“Yep. Born and raised. One of four.”
“I heard a little about the Carters,” I hedged, relieved to take the subject off me.
“Asking about me huh?” He winked.
“People seem all too eager to supply information when it comes to you,” I replied dryly.
He cocked a playful brow. “Is that so? Well, don’t worry, darlin’, I asked plenty about you too.”
I blushed. “My aunt said you all are a good lot.”
“We try.” He nodded before taking a sip of his beer. “So, you gonna ask me?” he murmured, his gaze on the horizon.
“What? About the fact that you’re apparently some giant country star?”
He looked over at me in mock horror. “Apparently?” he demanded.
I laughed. “I’m not much of a country fan.”
“Have to change that then.” His gaze raked over me with such intimacy that I fought the urge to squirm.
He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his beer clutched between his hands.
“The music thing, it was just mine for so long. Well, and to the extent my family tolerated me learning guitar and belting out songs in our living room.” He chuckled.
“I loved it. I still do. The fame—it came along with it. In the beginning, it was exciting as hell. And I’m grateful, of course I am.
But I guess as I’ve gotten older, I’m trying to get back to that place where it’s still mine, and something I share with the world on my terms. It can be a weird experience.
People think they know me. They want something from me that I’m not always wanting to give. ”
He stared down at his beer, peeling at the label.
“I know we just barely met, and I’m trying to balance not coming on too strong while not trying to hide anything.
What I’m tryin’ to say is, I’d like to get to know you.
And I’d like to do that without any of that shit for as long as we can.
That okay by you?” He looked over at me, his gaze searching.
I was floored by his honesty and the reminder that we all carried our own baggage—it just came with different strategies for managing the load.
“You’re kind of intense, you know that?” I murmured.
“When it comes to music.” He nodded thoughtfully. “As for women, I suppose there’s a first for everything.”
The insinuation that he’d never been as intense about a woman until me had my cheeks heating again.
“Too much?” He chuckled, though I sensed real concern there.
“No, I, um… I appreciate how honest you are. I’m just not used to it.
I was raised to be seen, not heard.” I wrinkled my nose.
“Etiquette took precedence over just about anything else. Even in my previous relationship. So, I’d rather have you tell it to me straight,” I told him honestly.
“Even if I blush, which I can’t seem to help. ”
“Good thing, since it’s fucking gorgeous,” he rumbled appreciatively.
For a few moments, we sat in silence, nursing our beers as the rain pounded on the roof. “Can I take you out to dinner this week?” he asked finally.
“Ready to set the rumor mill on fire?” I quirked a brow. It hadn’t taken long to learn how quickly news spread in this town.
“Far as I’m concerned, there wouldn’t be any rumor, only fact. But if you’d rather postpone the inevitable, I could attempt to cook you a meal, but I make no promises on the result.”
I laughed. “Not much of a cook?”
He shook his head. “Good eater, though.”
As much as I was enjoying his company and the fierce attraction between us, I needed to get my footing first. Because I knew instinctively, if this thing between us was even half of what it felt like it could be, I might never touch the ground again.
I thought about bringing up Josh, that I’d just gotten out of a relationship, but I couldn’t bear his name to share the space between us.
“I just need to see what the next few days looks like,” I explained instead. “My aunt wanted to give me time to settle in, but I’d like to start helping at Goodie’s as soon as possible. I know she needs it, though she’d never admit it.”
“Likely doesn’t want to put you out. Doesn’t seem to be her way.”
“No,” I agreed. “Daphne’s either.”
“Alright, I’ll try to be patient.” He grinned, no doubt sensing I was attempting to put some breaks on the runaway train that was Hudson Carter. “Okay if I put your number in my phone so we can keep in touch and see what’s what?”
I rattled off my number so he could put it in his phone, and my phone rang seconds later with his contact info.
He stood from the rocker, holding up his empty bottle in question.
“I’ll take it.” I reached a hand out, marveling at his muscular form as he stood above me.
“I’ll text you, and in the meantime, don’t go hauling any more furniture on your own. Call me first,” he ordered, and though his mouth quirked at the corners, I could tell he was serious.
“No plans to.” I shook my head.
“Sleep well, Lucy.” He pinned me with those blue eyes while licking that delicious bottom lip of his. The lust and excitement constantly coursing through me while in his presence was something I’d never experienced.
“You too,” I managed, watching as he turned and jogged through the rain. With one final wave, he hopped in his truck and disappeared into the night.