Chapter 33
LEAH
Hudson gets out of his chair at the dining room table and crouches down next to me. In a gentle voice, he asks, “Leah, what’s up?”
My sister Dani never cries, Valentina is an ugly crier, and I’m a quiet one. Tears fall silently down my cheeks.
I whisper, “You asked me to marry you.”
“I did.” I don’t hear regret in his voice. Mostly concern. Maybe a little hurt.
“Why?”
“Because I like you, Leah.”
I shake my head. “But you’re you.” He’s a hockey stud and the guy who inadvertently caused me heartbreak in high school. It’s not that I haven’t let it go because that was a long time ago, but what changed? How’d he go from warning his brother to stay away from me to wanting to marry me?
I am one hundred percent certain it’s not because he secretly had a crush on me.
Hudson’s hand finds mine and pries it from my lap. He takes it and draws me to my feet, then wraps his arms around me.
I melt into him even though I’m getting his shirt wet. Even though I’m embarrassing myself. The last time someone was bigger and taller than me, able to comfort me by wrapping themselves around me in what feels like a protective cocoon was when I was a little kid. It feels good. Safe. Promising.
Since leaving my mother and father’s house earlier, the reality of what’s coming hasn’t stopped surging toward me. It’s everything I ever wanted, all within arm’s reach, yet I’m a mental mess.
I scrunch up Hudson’s shirt in my hands and grip tightly. He holds me, supports me, doesn’t waver.
“I feel so foolish crying after you planned such a nice dinner for us,” I blubber into his chest.
“Do you want to talk about it? Listen, if I came on too strong …”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand why you haven’t filed a restraining order on the Smith-Torres family.”
Laughter rolls through Hudson.
“I wanted a hockey guy.”
“You have me if you want me.”
“I should be elated, but—”
He still hugs me close and the steady patter of his heartbeat has been comforting, but it seems to skip. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea, so I try again. “I should be elated, but I’m overwhelmed.”
“I get that. Reading Pride and Prejudice helped.”
She leans back, looking up at me. “You read it?”
“Yeah, so I understand big family dynamics and arranged marriages a little better now.”
“We don’t live in the Regency era.”
“I don’t suppose we do. But did they have it so wrong?”
“Through a modern lens, yes, there were some problematic aspects, but—” I cut myself off again as I get the full picture of what Hudson is telling me. “You read the entire book?”
“Sure did.”
My jaw slowly lowers. “Front to back?”
“Every page.”
“I didn’t know you could read,” I joke.
He laughs again. “Remember I mentioned going to college? I can read in Spanish too. In Boston, Miami, and Houston, I worked with teens who were living in Spanish-speaking households while living in an English-speaking area.”
I lean back and ask, “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I connected with an organization in college and by the time I went to play for the Breakers, they had multiple locations.”
“What did you do?”
“Homework mostly, but all kinds of things. I became friends with some of the students in Miami and I taught them hockey too. We’d text in Spanish to keep me sharp and teach me slang, which wasn’t allowed in the classroom.”
“I’m impressed.”
The side of his mouth lifts into a half smile. “Good to know. I can submit my resume, an essay, and a list of extracurriculars if you’d like.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“Your list of extracurriculars?”
His gaze dips to mine for a long moment before bouncing back to meet my eyes. “Yeah. I live a very active lifestyle, have certain skills, and—”
Lengthening my neck, he takes my thoughts on a little adventure to no-no land before they snap back to reality. “Wait. A. Minute.”
“Only a minute? If so, the clock is starting now.” He taps his wrist.
I laugh dryly but my eyes smile. “I just realized that my parents are pride and prejudicing us.”
“I’m not sure that’s how those words are used, but sure.”
“Don’t be supercilious.”
His lips quirk and his gaze turns heavy. I realize his arms went from wrapping around me in a hug to being laced around my waist. If I’m not mistaken, I’d say that Hudson wants to kiss me. My cheeks blister red because tonight and these last few weeks defies everything I thought I knew about him.
My voice is extra smoky when I say, “You’re no Mr. Darcy.”
Hudson winks. “No, I’m Elizabeth, obviously.”
This time we both laugh. It’s flirtatious laughter. Is that what’s happening? I angle my head in silent question. As if reading my mind, he nods almost imperceptibly.
I realize I’ve been holding my breath and my inhale pops the moment, but not like a balloon with a loud bang. More like a slow siphoning of air, drawing it out of the room, leaving me with nothing but Hudson for oxygen.
We sustain eye contact for a long moment and possibility threads between us.
When neither one of us makes a move, I say, “Thanks for the gift.”
“You’re welcome.” He drops his arms from around my waist and I instantly want them back. I want to crawl into Hudson’s embrace and stay there. Then who will I aim my anger at, even if he doesn’t know it’s me writing those emails, which presents another problem entirely.
He turns toward the kitchen. “I have dessert.”
“So many tricks up those sleeves.” The comment sounds flirtatious. Am I flirting with Hudson?
He winks. “No tricks, just treats.”
This reminds me of the impending Halloween eve wedding, but it’s like the time in Hudson’s dining room was like a first pass through a house after a big party.
We tossed out the trash in big black bags.
There’s still more to go, cleaning up and fixing the furniture, drapes, and trying to get that stain out of the carpet—that would symbolize my secret identity as his adversary—but it’s progress.
Hudson and I go to the kitchen where he takes chocolate-covered strawberries out of the fridge.
“These are my favorite,” I exclaim.
“I know.”
“So you and my family really have been talking behind my back, huh?”
“Talking, scheming, whatever you want to call it.”
I press my lips together, feeling mildly betrayed but mostly amused.
Hudson slides his hand down my arm and locks eyes with me.
“Leah, I understand if this is overwhelming. Maybe I’m not the hockey guy you had in mind.
I want to be. I’ll also do anything to ease your overwhelm.
I don’t want to wear you down. Rather, show you that it’ll be worth it to give me a chance. I’ll pursue you—”
“Thanks for the flowers, by the way. That was another first … and the chocolates, the books. All of it.” It’s then I realize the man has been wooing me. I’m so accustomed to just being one of the guys that I haven’t let myself see that I finally got what I’d always wanted—from Hudson of all people.
This. Changes. Everything.
“You deserve even more.”
No. That does.
Then, my chest contracts because I’m not sure that’s true. I’ve been horrible to this man even if he doesn’t know it. Even if he started it. We all did dumb things in high school. I’m surprised Cara gave me the time of day after participating in the theft of Howie. What about the emails?
Looking around at the tidy kitchen, even after Hudson prepared this big meal, I ask, “Do you have a housekeeper?”
“Not yet, but this house is my biggest yet, so I was considering it.”
“Do you have a professional organizer? Personal assistant? Team of elves who put away the salt and pepper shakers, toss out the used toilet paper rolls, and sweep the floors?”
“What? No. Should I?”
I shake my head. “It’s just that everything is so neat in here. Will you help me clean my room?”
“Do you mean pack to move?” Hope filters through his voice and I assume he refers to us moving in together after we get married.
“Like tidy up.”
His lips part with laughter. “Sure. If that means you’ll go to the Cobbiton HoCo with me.”
I frown. “I was kind of hoping for one of those signs like guys made in high school.”
“Don’t push it.” He waggles his eyebrows in a flirty way.
After dessert, hours of talking, and me promising to sleep at my mom and dad’s house instead of risking life and limb walking from my car to my apartment at this hour, Hudson walks me outside.
Under the stars, with him so warm and close, and after a wonderful night, maybe this could work. Possibly. There are a few more hurdles to clear, though. A big one, actually and it has Your Secret Adversary written all over it.
“Can I see the ring?” I ask.
“You want to look at it?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, worried and excited in equal measure.
He takes it out of his pocket and the black velvet box makes a little popping sound when it opens. Maybe that’s where the expression, Pop the question comes from. I bet Margo knows.
Hudson starts, “If you don’t like it—”
“It’s beautiful.” I gaze at the gleaming dark stone surrounded by shining diamonds set in a platinum band.
“It’s a natural black diamond. The jeweler said they come this way because they contain graphite.”
I glance up at him. “Like what hockey sticks are made out of?”
He nods.
So, there’s a part of something I love, a part of him, in the stone. The frost around my heart melts.
I stretch to kiss him on the cheek and then my lips dust over his mouth. It’s minty and cool. Welcome. The world turns fuzzy and my muscles, bones, and everything that holds me together rapidly heats like it’s heading toward a melting point.
His lips lift playfully, but his gaze remains hooded, focused lazily, temptingly, on me. My breath squeezes through my lungs, reminding me of who I’m with, where I am, and what’s going on. My brain reminds me what shouldn’t happen while my heart tells a different story.
The long and sordid history Hudson and I have wins and I snap back to my senses.
After saying goodnight, I get in my car and am about to back out of the driveway when I remember something Mami said and roll down the window. Hudson still stands there as if expecting this … hoping?
“I forgot to tell you that we have to make a meal for each other. It’s a Wedding Eve tradition.”
“Cool.”
“Dangerous.”
“How’s that? Isn’t your cousin Larz an EMT?”
“Yes, and Nils. That’s beside the point. The tradition goes that if the bride and groom don’t try to poison each other, the marriage will last.”
“Did you say poison?” He distinctly swallows.
“Family members choose the ingredients. Then we have to cook something palatable. Last time, when Romi and William made the meal, there were oranges, Nutella, anchovies, chili peppers, eggplant, bacon, and tofu.” I stick out my tongue.
“Oh, so it’s like the mystery basket of ingredients on that HLTV show?”
“You have to use all of them.”
“What if someone in the family doesn’t want you to get married and they poison the ingredients?”
“I didn’t think of that. I mean, we don’t have to go through with it.”
He bobs his head. “I’m up for it.”
“I could secure tickets to Bora Bora in five minutes.”
“Is that where we’d go on our honeymoon?”
“I don’t even know where it is, but it has a fun name.”
He wears that lazy half-smile that I’ve grown to love. “We could just go wild and do everything out of order.”
“But seriously.”
“I’m serious.”
“As serious as a puppy dog,” I say with laughter in my voice.
“Seems like you have family events every week.”
“Usually multiple. My mom has seven siblings. Dad has ten. It’s a big bunch.”
“And to think they settled on four.”
“Would you really want there to be more of me?”
Bracing his hands on the roof of my car, Hudson peers inside. “Just you, Leah. Just you.”
As I drive away, I’m really starting to believe that he’s serious … and so am I.