HUDSON
CHAPTER NINE
I set my alarm for five-thirty, but I’m up at five.
I lie there on the edge of the mattress, the ceiling above me already glowing a sickly pre-dawn blue.
The ranch house is quiet except for the distant sound of a cattle truck shifting gears as it grinds down the county road.
After downing a cup of coffee, I dress and head out to my truck.
I spent all day yesterday missing Tinsley, and I can’t wait another second to see her.
I drive over to her apartment building and park in the shade.
It kills me that she insists on coming out to meet me, but I wait impatiently for her to appear.
She strolls out right on time, dressed for the heat.
Pale blue T-shirt, black jeans, hair braided over one shoulder.
As she walks to my truck, I hop out and rush around to open her door.
“Morning,” I whisper against her soft lips as I pull her curvy body close.
“Good morning,” she breathes as my lips cover hers. Before things get out of control on the busy Silver Spoon Falls street, I pull back and help her into the passenger seat.
We drive in silence for the first ten minutes.
She’s watching the road, and I’m watching her in the reflection off the windshield, the lines of her profile etched against the harsh glare of sunrise.
I take her soft hand in mine and bring it to my lips for a kiss.
“Do you need me to stop for coffee on the way?”
“No, I had two cups already.” She looks over and smiles at me. “But thank you.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” I mean those words. I’d do absolutely anything for her.
A while later, we pull up outside the bank.
“You want me to come in?” I ask.
She’s already grabbing her bag. “I’ve got this.”
I know she wants to do this on her own, so I don’t argue.
I turn up the AC and pull out my book. “I’ll just wait here then.
” After a few minutes, I realize I’ve been staring at the same goddamn page without reading a single word.
So, I pull out my phone to check my emails.
I check the markets. I text the stable manager about the new mare.
Nothing holds my attention. I keep looking back at the glass doors, telling myself I should’ve at least waited inside.
She’s in there for almost an hour, and I sweat every goddamn minute.
When she finally steps out, there’s a flush on her cheeks and a smile on her lips. I hop out of the truck and walk over to her.
“It’s official,” she says, voice ringing. “I’m the proud owner of a 2019 Corolla.”
Fuck, she’s something else. “Let’s go check out your new car.”
I follow her to the black Corolla, and she unlocks it with the key fob. She opens the door and looks up at me, her eyes bright in the late-morning sun. “Thanks for coming with me,” she says. “I know you probably have a million other things to do.”
“Nothing is more important than you,” I tell her. “Drive safe. I’ll be right behind you.”
The drive back to Silver Spoon Falls is a test of willpower.
I keep her little black car in view the whole way, watching every swerve and lane change, my mind running wild with every possible disaster that could befall her on the open road.
She’s a good driver. Confident. And I’m a pussy-whipped moron.
By the time we’re back in town, the heat has reached a fever pitch. I follow her to her apartment and park behind her in the lot. She waits for me by the stairwell, arms crossed, hair a little wild from the AC, and I know she feels the same static buzzing between us.
I walk her to the door, neither of us saying a word. At her doorstep, she turns to face me.
“Thanks again,” she says, voice low.
I don’t let myself think. I reach for her, hand cupping her jaw, and kiss her like I’ve been dying to do since the day we met. She freezes for half a second, then melts into me, her hands grabbing my shirt, pulling me closer.
It’s not a polite kiss. It’s hungry, unbalanced, desperate. When she breaks away, we’re both breathing hard.
I want to ask her out tomorrow night, but I have a meeting tomorrow in Dallas and I have to catch up on a million things at the office this week. Fucking business is getting in the way of my wooing campaign. “Will you have dinner with me Friday night?” I ask. “At my place.”
She grins, brushing her thumb along the edge of my jaw. “I’ll be there. What time do you want me to come over?”
“Does seven work for you?”
“It does. I’ll see you then.” She leans in, quick and fierce, and kisses me again. Then she turns and disappears inside, leaving me standing on the landing, the taste of her still fresh in my mouth.
I walk back to the truck, feeling like a man who just bet the whole ranch on a single hand of cards. I have no idea if I’m going to win or lose, but for the first time in my life, I don’t care.
Friday can’t come soon enough.
Tuesday morning, the alarm buzzes at six. I slap it silent, then stare at the ceiling and count every second until it’s reasonable to text her. Five minutes later, I decide to hell with it and type out a message.
Me
Good morning. I won’t see you at The Golden Mug today. I have a meeting up in Dallas.
Tinsley
My day just won’t be the same. Have a safe trip.
Me
I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.
Tinsley
I am. But I really will miss seeing you.
Me
Good to know
Wednesday morning, I can’t focus on shit. I spend two hours in the main barn pretending to look at invoices while my mind drifts off to her, wondering what she’s doing, if she’s thinking of me, too.
Me
How’s the new acquisition doing?
Tinsley
Great. How was your meeting in Dallas?
Me
It was okay. I miss you.
Tinsley
I miss you, too. I can’t wait until Friday.
Me
See you then.
At dusk, a storm rolls in from the west, all thunderheads and dry lightning.
I get soaked running from the main barn over to the main house.
By the time I get inside, my boots are leaking and my shirt clings to me like a second skin.
I strip down, towel off, and stand at the window for a minute, watching the rain stream down the glass and the blue-black sky split by lightning. On impulse, I take a photo.
Me
Looks like we’re getting a show tonight.
Tinsley
I love thunderstorms.
Me
Me too.
Thursday morning, I wake up before the sun. I don’t even bother with the alarm. I make coffee and spend an hour checking my emails, then I text her.
Me
Good morning. I can’t wait until tomorrow.
She doesn’t reply for two hours. When the message finally comes, I realize I’ve been holding my breath, waiting for her response.
Tinsley
You’re up early.
Me
I couldn’t sleep. Thinking about you.
Tinsley
You’ve been on my mind, too.
Her words are enough to keep me going all day. I ride the fence line again, but this time, I barely notice the heat or the dust. All I can think of is her, tomorrow night, in my home.