Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Hudson
I wasn’t quite sure how I had ended up in this position, but I knew that something was going to have to change. Spending so many hours constantly fighting with Scarlett, even though it felt as if we were always forced in each other’s proximity, wasn’t going to work anymore.
Although the sun had risen about an hour ago, I had been up for more than two.
I had my studio door open, as well as the back door to my home with just the screen door, that way I could hear if Scarlett woke up.
I still couldn’t quite believe that she was in my guest bedroom, snoring away, hopefully waking up without too bad of a hangover.
I didn’t know if Scarlett got hangovers.
Since we weren’t really friends, it wasn’t something I should know. I frowned and dipped my paintbrush into the green. Though it really wasn’t a true green, more of a cerulean.
Were Scarlett and I friends? Perhaps we were after all this time.
We had just done such a good job of pushing each other away, it didn’t feel as if we should consider ourselves friends.
I didn’t know what we were, but I was damn tired of fighting it.
Ms. Perfect didn’t want me to protect her?
Fine. But I had a feeling keeping away from each other like we were trying wasn’t going to work as it should.
From what I knew, Scarlett had the full day off today, so she could either sleep it off, or go with what I had planned.
I frowned, trying to get the shade just right for this part of my piece.
My head clearly wasn’t in the game, if it was taking me this long to find the right green.
I sighed, set my supplies down, and stared at the easel.
I didn’t always work with such small pieces, but I’d wanted to gift Ford’s son something cute-ish for his nursery wall.
The kid soon would get a big boy bed, at least that’s what I thought, and that meant his decorations would change.
Right? I didn’t know kids. The idea that my siblings were all having them meant I needed to learn what milestones were.
And that wasn’t something on my radar. When did they learn to talk?
Walk? Were Sophia’s twins dating people yet? Were they even two yet?
I ran my hand over my face and cringed before I realized I didn’t have paint on this particular one. The number of times I had slid paint through my hair was astronomical at this point.
Ford’s son liked frogs from what I could tell, since he always babbled and smiled when frogs were around, so I figured I’d paint a frog-like picture for the kid. They could throw it away for all I cared, but I could at least give them something.
I had started the tradition with Sophia’s kids, and I would continue to do so with Aston and Blakely’s once it was born.
I quickly cleaned up my area, and washed my hands, and figured I’d get back to this whenever my head was in the game.
My thoughts had been straying towards the woman in my guest room far too much.
I knew some things about her, but not enough.
And the part of me that I had thought long since dormant wanted to know more.
Like why the hell she had chosen Ronin in first place.
Growling, I shook my head and closed up my studio.
I liked being out in the mountains, away from the rest of the world.
The idea that Scarlett was so close however, hadn’t really bothered me before.
Before the huge storm that had taken out part of the Ackerson place, there had been a line of trees separating us.
So I hadn’t really seen Scarlett that often.
But we had lost four large trees in that storm, creating a perfect view between the two places.
My sense of solitude had been disrupted.
And that was what Scarlett Blair was good at.
Destruction.
I checked my watch and realized that she would be waking up soon. She was always an early riser from what I could tell, so sleeping off however much wine that she had, would end soon.
I pulled out bacon and eggs and a couple of potatoes, I figured I’d put up a sort of breakfast for her.
A scramble could work. I added some spinach, peppers, mushrooms, and hoped to hell she liked all of this.
When grapped the serrano, I grinned and remembered the time we’d eaten all of Harper’s dinner, because Harper hadn’t realized it had been so spicy, and Scarlett could handle it.
If she wanted heat, I’d give her heat.
I frowned in the midst of chopping.
What the hell was that about?
Did she want heat? Well she had sure as fuck kissed me back. But what did I want from that?
I hadn’t dated or wanted anybody in a long while.
Sure I’d slept with people, but it had been transactional.
Each of us had wanted a single night, and that’s what we’d had.
And I didn’t fuck people in Cage Lake. I went to one of the other small towns around the area, like Ashford Creek, or Silver Lake, or even Sunrise Ridge.
It was easier to find somebody for a single night there, than deal with the drama of fucking with anybody in Cage Lake.
I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking when it came to Scarlett Blair, but she was in my house, and something needed to change, or I was never going to get any sleep.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I quickly tossed everything into the skillet, working on my scramble.
“Good morning, sleepyhead. Coffee is made, but if you prefer tea, I have an electric kettle because Isabella dropped it off.” It amazed me how quickly our two families had begun to blend.
Though I hadn’t grown up with any of my sisters, I saw them nearly as much as I did the brothers I had grown up with.
The only one I didn’t see often was Kyler, and that was because he was out on tour.
And frankly, he didn’t spend much time in Cage Lake.
And I did my best to avoid people in Denver.
Our father had done his best to split us up, and then forced us together, and somehow in spite of him, we were becoming a family.
“Thank you for the water and ibuprofen,” Scarlett said softly as she padded towards the kitchen.
She’d unearthed a hair tie somehow and piled her hair on the top of her head.
Thankfully she had put on the long sweats and T-shirt I had set on the edge of the bed.
I’d put her to sleep in her dress, and while part of me had wanted to undress her so she would be comfortable—and probably other reasons—I hadn’t.
Being a gentleman wasn’t easy. Not that I was actually a gentleman.
“Thank you for the clothes too. And, well, everything.” She put her hands over her face and groaned. “I never drink that much.” At least that’s what I thought she mumbled.
“I don’t either, but when I do, I like a hearty breakfast the next morning. You in or is it going to make you queasy?”
I looked over my shoulder at her silence and she just stood there, frowning at me, her hands at her sides. “Why are you being so nice to me? You’re never nice to me.”
A sliver of guilt slid inside me at that comment, but I did my best to ignore it.
“I’m tired of fighting all the time, and I’m hungry.
Are you going to eat? I found your keys by the way.
They had rolled to the back of the truck, at least inside the cabin.
So you can get into your house when you need to.
But I did make enough breakfast for two. ”
She was quiet for so long I was afraid she had left, but then she came to my side and looked down into the skillet.
“Is that a quiche? Or the beginnings of one?”
I snorted. “I’m not Theo, or that fancy. But it’s a scramble. Everything will be cooked, you won’t die of salmonella. At least I don’t think so.”
“That makes me feel safe.” She paused, and I knew she was wrestling with similar thoughts to my own. “I would love breakfast. Thank you.”
“No problem. Do you want that coffee?”
“I can get it. Are the mugs near the maker?”
“They are.”
“Would you like me to top you off as well?”
We met gazes, even though the unintended innuendo lay heavy between us, and I nodded. “Yes please, I don’t need cream or sugar.”
“I’m in the mood for all of the cream and sugar if that’s okay.”
“I don’t have any of that fancy creamer stuff, but I have half-and-half. I think.”
Her lips twitched. “I can make that work.” She paused. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me.”
“Would you rather me yell at you? For old time’s sake?”
“It would feel normal, but come on, let’s get you fed. And then we can go on a ride.”
I had been thinking about that for hours and knew it was probably the best thing to do.
I loved riding my bike in the mountains and couldn’t for half of the year.
But now that the snow had melted in some of the passes, we could wind around a couple of small towns and have lunch.
And yes, the idea of her legs wrapped around me as we rode had entered my mind, but I wasn’t going to mention that.
“Excuse me?” she asked as she poured nearly half of the container of half-and-half into her cup.
“I’m going for a ride and you’re coming with me. It’s your day off, isn’t it?”
“It is. Which I’m glad it is since I slept so late. I haven’t slept in ages.”
“You needed it,” I said with a shrug.
“Maybe, but it makes me feel lazy.”
“You are the least lazy person I know, and I have Aston and Isabella and Blakely in my family,” I said dryly.
“I suppose that is true.” Her lips twitched. “And you want me to ride your motorcycle with you. Like a date?”
I paused in the act of scraping the rest of the scramble onto two plates before letting out a breath.
“Not really. It’s just a ride.”
“Okay.” She blinked as she said it before taking a sip of her coffee. “Good coffee.”
“Okay, as in you’re fine it’s not a date? Or okay, as in you’re coming with me.”