Chapter 10
Hazel
Five Years Later…
“Hazel.”
“Hmm?” I mumble as I stir the batter, keeping my eyes on the mixing bowl in front of me.
My husband appears beside me like he’s sensed my discomfort, one big hand instantly settling on my lower back. “Why are you standing?”
I blink up at him. “Because I have legs?”
His eyes narrow. “You said your back hurt.”
“It does hurt,” I admit. “I’m pregnant, Hudson. Everything hurts.”
His jaw tightens immediately as if I’ve just confirmed his worst fear.
Ivy, our four-year-old daughter, sighs dramatically where she’s sitting at the kitchen table. “Daddy’s being weird again,” she announces before taking another bite of her pancake.
Hudson points at her without taking his eyes off me. “Your mother should be sitting down.”
“She was sitting down,” Ivy says patiently. “Then she got up.”
Hudson looks at me like that somehow makes it worse. I bite back a smile and turn away before he can see it.
Five years later, and this man still loses his mind every time I so much as wince.
Actually… scratch that. He’s worse now, much worse, especially since I got pregnant again.
“You should let me do that,” he grumbles, reaching for the bowl.
“You don’t know how to bake.”
“I can learn.”
I snort softly. “You almost burned down the kitchen trying to make grilled cheese last month.”
“That was one time.”
“It was three times.”
Hudson mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like betrayal while he carefully takes the spoon from my hand anyway.
I lean against the counter, rubbing my belly as I watch him stir the batter with the same intensity he uses during billion-dollar meetings.
Dark hair slightly messy, gray Henley stretched over broad shoulders, wedding ring glinting under the kitchen lights. He’s still grumpy, still terrifying everyone except me, still completely obsessed with me.
My chest warms as he glances over at me again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Your feet hurt?”
“A little.”
“You should sit down.”
I laugh softly. “Hudson—”
Before I can finish, a sharp cramp tightens low in my stomach. “Ow.”
The word slips out before I can stop it, and Hudson freezes.
The spoon clatters onto the counter.
“What?” he asks in a panic, already reaching for me.
“It’s nothing.”
“Hazel,” he warns.
“It was just a cramp.”
His face goes pale.
Ivy groans loudly from the table. “See? Weird.”
Hudson ignores her as he steps in front of me, his hands on my stomach. “Are you having contractions?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You look uncomfortable.”
“I am uncomfortable,” I say dryly. “I’m eight months pregnant.”
His expression turns murderous like he wants to fight pregnancy itself.
I can’t help it; I start laughing.
Hudson looks deeply unimpressed by this reaction. “I don’t see what’s funny.”
“Oh, I do,” I murmur, cupping his jaw. “You’re ridiculous, but I love you anyway.”
“I’m not ridiculous,” he grumbles.
I smile as he leans down to kiss me.
Ivy giggles into her juice, and I’m thrown back to the hospital four years ago. Back to Hudson pacing holes into the labor and delivery room floor while I was in labor with Ivy. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I was calmer than he was.
“Her heart rate went up,” he barked at the nurse at one point.
The poor woman blinked at him. “Sir, that’s normal during labor.”
Hudson looked unconvinced.
“Normal or not, fix it.”
I laughed so hard that I nearly cried.
Then there was the IV incident. Hudson went sheet white watching them put it in my arm. The nurse wasn’t able to find a vein right away, and I kept wincing every time she tried.
“Baby,” he said tightly, kneeling beside the hospital bed. “Why are they stabbing you?”
The nurse looked like she was trying not to laugh. Meanwhile, I was the one in labor and somehow comforting him.
And every single time I winced? Hudson completely unraveled.
“She’s in pain.”
“That contraction looked worse.”
“Can’t you give her something?”
“I don’t like how pale she is.”
The nurses smiled every time he spoke because it was painfully obvious that my grumpy husband was one step away from fighting the entire hospital staff for me.
Then Ivy was born, and Hudson… God. Even now my throat tightens thinking about it.
The second they placed her in his arms, every ounce of tension vanished from him. He was completely still. Our daughter looked tiny against his massive chest.
Hudson stared down at her with glassy eyes, his entire expression cracked wide open with awe. Then he kissed the top of her head and whispered one rough, wrecked word.
“Mine.”
I fell even more in love with him then because Hudson never loved halfway. Not me, not our daughter, not our family. He loved with everything he had.
“Mommy?”
I blink back into the present to find Ivy staring at me.
“You’re smiling weird.”
Hudson immediately looks alarmed again. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I promise through a laugh.
I reach for his hand and tug him closer until his body settles against mine. “You’re just reminding me of when I had Ivy.”
His expression softens instantly. “Best and worst day.”
I snort. “Worst?”
“You were in pain,” he explains, tightening his grip on me.
“Yeah, I was having a baby. Remember how you almost passed out when they put in my IV?”
“I did not.”
“Daddy passed out?” Ivy gasps dramatically.
“I did not pass out,” Hudson growls.
“He sat on the floor and looked like he was about to meet Jesus,” I correct.
My daughter dissolves into giggles.
Hudson glares at both of us before pulling me fully into his arms, one hand protectively cradling my belly. The baby kicks hard beneath his palm, and I watch as his entire face changes.
Every single time, like he still can’t believe this is real.
His throat works as he looks down at my stomach. “Hey, little troublemaker.”
My heart melts because this man who terrifies boardrooms of billionaires talks to our babies like they hung the moon.
Ivy climbs onto one of the kitchen stools beside us. “Daddy,” she says seriously. “Mommy’s okay.”
Hudson kisses the top of my head. “I know,” he says, but his arms tighten around me anyway.
I rest my cheek against his chest and smile, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.
Some people probably still think Hudson Cole is cold, gruff, and impossible, but they don’t know the man who rubs my feet every night without complaint.
The man who wakes up three times a night just to make sure I’m still comfortable. The man who looks at me now with the same overwhelming love he did five years ago.
Hudson loves fiercely, completely, forever. And honestly?
I wouldn’t have him any other way.