Chapter 8 #2
“I have peace,” I said, gathering the bag. “I have more money than I’ll ever need, a suite at the finest hotel in New York City, one I own, and people at my beck and call. I have all I need.”
I turned and rushed toward the door.
“But do you have what you really want?”
My step faltered, and I glanced back at her. “Everything.” The word was a mere whispered fragment of syllables because it was a lie.
She gave me a sad nod, and I looked away before my facade broke. Pushing through the door, I snapped at Hudson, who stood like a solid mass of muscle, waiting for me. His mouth was turned downward, his arms crossed, eyes dark.
“Let’s go. I’ve had enough of small-town life to last a century. How do you stand this?”
I walked past him, my steps solid and unfaltering, not caring for an answer.
I wanted to get out of here. To run from it all.
From him. From the possibility that flickered in the distance.
From the disruption to my life. I wanted to go back to the previous morning and tell Gabe no.
To never have seen Hudson again. To never have my heart so unprotected and my guardrails so rusty and bent.
Hudson was outside, letting the horses out to pasture, and I was gaping at the clothes on my bed, contemplating them as if they might reach up and smother me.
He had barked at me to get changed, and I fully intended to ignore his command.
I rolled the leather cord of the necklace between my fingers, its weight like I held a collapsing bridge in my palm.
I gently placed it on the dresser, smoothing my finger over the stone. Grabbing my laptop from where I had it charging, I headed downstairs, my heels clumping on the wooden stairs. I sat at the island, booting up and biting my lip as I realized I didn’t have his Wi-Fi password.
With an annoyed huff, I slid off the stool and surveyed the kitchen, seeing no notes anywhere.
I wandered into the living room, where the fireplace sat quiet with no fire to fill it.
Leather couches, masculine and large, took up the bulk of the room with a worn recliner in the corner.
A pile of books sat on the table next to it, and I picked one up to find it was a history of horse husbandry.
A smile rose on my lips as I looked at the other titles, all horse books.
Hudson had always been obsessed with horses, which is why it surprised me that he’d bought a cattle ranch. Horses were his passion.
I continued my search, walking into the office tucked at the back of the house.
After hitting the lights, I looked around, seeing signs of a man whose very presence unlocked a part of me that fought to be free again.
I draped my hands over the bookshelves, seeing his diploma framed and hung in the corner, a few trophies from when he played lacrosse sitting on a wooden filing cabinet.
I remembered going to his games and sitting in the stands, cheering him on as he loped across the field with grace and confidence.
A few medals from riding when he was young, before I’d met him, hung on a hook near the door.
But it was what I found on his desk, something so familiar and achingly painful, that caused my chest to lurch and a cry to escape.
I bit it back, covering my mouth with my hand and shoving my emotion into its prison.
The row of paper horses spanned out as I picked them up, the paper worn and faded, but the shapes still there.
“Keep them closed!” I warned Hudson as I brought him through the door of the apartment he shared with his roommate.
“What are you up to?” he asked with a deep chuckle as his lashes fluttered behind my hand. I was on my toes, trying to keep him from peeking.
“Surprising you.”
“Are you naked?”
I hissed through my teeth. “No, how would I be naked when you just saw me dressed not two minutes ago?”
“It was worth the ask. Not that I won’t have you naked soon.”
“Hudson!”
His laugh was a rich, hearty sound that sent my stomach swirling.
When I had him through the door, I kicked it closed and dragged him further into the living room. His roommate had let me in earlier that day when I knew Hudson would be in class, and he promised to be scarce the rest of the day.
“Ready?” I asked, excitement bubbling inside of me.
He grabbed my waist. “To taste you, honey.”
This time my stomach tumbled because Hudson’s mouth was like magic, and whenever he used my nickname, I knew what was coming…me.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he said, his fingers sliding into my pants.
“You’re going to ruin this if you don’t stop that.”
“How can making you come ruin anything?”
I smacked his arm, my hand slipping to find his eyes open and locked on mine. He pulled me to him, kissing me and leaving me dizzy. As he drew away, he had a mischievous grin on his face that faltered as his eyes rose.
“Olivia?” he asked, his eyes taking in the room.
Paper horses I’d spent hours making streamed across the room.
Four strands in different colors. And in the center of the room, a cake I’d made him, doing my best to follow the recipe our chef had sent me.
It was thick and gritty, but the horse I’d drawn on it was one of the best I’d done.
He looked back at me, emotions splayed across his features.
“Happy birthday,” I said with a big smile.
“You did all this?”
I nodded as he released me and inspected the cake.
“And you baked? And…shit, Olivia, this horse is beautiful.” I’d been drawing since starting college, keeping a journal I left at school and far from home because my father would only have belittled me for it and punished Gabe for my foolishness.
Horses were my favorite, and Hudson had kept every horse I’d ever drawn him.
“And…” He reached up and touched a line of brown paper horses before turning his eyes back to me. “Made these?”
Another nod, and he rushed to me, lifting me and spinning me as I giggled.
“Best birthday ever,” he said, kissing me. “I’m going to keep those paper horses forever, and when we own our horse farm and have a slew of little Olivias running under our feet, I will have them hanging in our house to remind me of how amazing you are.”
“A slew?” I asked. “That sounds like a lot of kids.”
He set me down and took my face in his hands. “Then we’ll have dogs. A dozen dogs running through the fields and the house.”
I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck.
“I love you, Olivia. So much that it kills me to think of how long I went without you in my life.”
“What the fuck are you doing in here?”
My eyes jumped up to see Hudson’s grimace as the brown horses fell from my hand. His sight flicked to them before it returned to me, his expression guarded.
“I…I was looking for the Wi-Fi password,” I stuttered, still in the throes of the memory, the joy of that girl echoing through me.
“It’s in the kitchen.”
“You kept them,” I said as he turned away.
His steps ceased, his body going rigid. “I told you I always would.”
He left the room, his words leaving me unsettled, just like the necklace had.
Just like everything had all day. A juxtaposition of hatred and sentiment that didn’t balance out and left me confused.
But I supposed I was just as confusing, the memories meddling with my ability to think clearly, to keep my cold demeanor in place.
I put the horses back where he had them and followed him out of the room.
“I want to go over the numbers.”
“Sounds fantastic.” He walked to the refrigerator and pulled a beer out, popping the cap off with the quick flick of his hand. It dropped onto the counter, rolling with a sound that captured the silence until it stopped, and the silence became stifling.
“And I have some ideas.”
He took a swig and lowered the bottle to the counter.
“Let’s hear them.”
“But the numbers.”
“Can wait. Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
I pursed my lips, not liking how bossy he was. This was my job. My money had saved his ranch, and technically he worked for me and Gabe.
“Fine. Give me the password.”
He pulled a pen and a piece of paper out of a drawer and slapped them on the counter, keeping his palm on them.
“Ideas first.”
I cocked my head, trying to understand this gruff, demanding asshole and trying not to leap over the counter and strangle him.
With an emphasized shove, I pushed the computer aside.
“Draw out the ranch. I want a broad perspective of the land and where the barns and facilities are located.”
He eyed me. “Why?”
“Just do it and stop being so grouchy.”
His jaw twitched before it hardened, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. He grabbed the pen and began sketching.
“You still draw?” he asked, not looking up, as I did a double-take.
“God, you’re a confusing man.”
“What’s confusing about the question? It’s a yes or no answer.”
“Not that,” I said, running a hand through my hair and hating how knotted my curls were. “This hot and cold thing. One second you sound like you want to strangle me, the next you’re asking civilized questions albeit in a very rough manner.”
“You do that to me. Like a fucking scale that tilts from hate to…” He trailed off, the pen freezing, and I inhaled. His eyes leaped to me, settling on my lips as they parted. “Never mind. Just answer the damn question.”
“No,” I huffed, looking away. I hopped down from the stool and walked around the island, opening the refrigerator door.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting a drink because I know if I ask you for one, you’ll tell me to get it myself or poison it.”
“Hm, hadn’t thought about that.”