Chapter 16
Liv
The leather melded to my skin, soft and warm as I took a seat on the couch.
I brought the collar of Hudson’s T-shirt to my nose, inhaling his scent as I closed my eyes and thought of what he’d done to my body.
Restaking his claim and lighting it on fire.
In a matter of hours, I had peeled back layers of myself that I had placed over too many years, expecting they would guard me for life.
Never had I thought Hudson would be back in it, or that safe in his presence, those layers would fall away to leave me exposed and there for him to destroy if he wanted.
But he hadn’t. He’d gathered me up and reassured me that the safety he’d always provided was still there. He was like a warm fire that melted away the frostbite. A fireproof vault fighting flames that threatened to turn it to ash. A hand stretched out to catch me when I fell.
That’s what he had always been to me, and he hadn’t changed. I rested my head back, ready to scold myself for breaking down, for letting him see tears I’d caged since childhood, but I couldn’t because if anyone understood the weight of those tears, it was Hudson.
Outside, the storm continued to batter the house, and I rose from the couch to look out the window.
The barn stood in the distance; the door closed as water rushed past it.
I didn't see Hudson, so he must have made it inside. There was no way I was going back out there. He didn’t want me to, and I would respect his wish this time.
I wasn’t about to take another swim. As if in answer, the wound on my arm throbbed.
I touched my cheek where the bruise had formed, noting how neither it nor my arm had hurt while Hudson had made love to me.
I wasn’t so certain that was the term for what we’d done.
It seemed more frenzied, like years of need released in one explosive event that transformed me.
But there had been moments of softness, hushed proclamations of love.
He still loved me after all these years, after all I’d done to him.
The future threatened to taint the thought, crouching in my periphery ready to strike, but I shoved it away, just like he’d said to.
He was right, and as much as the thought had paralyzed me earlier, I would pretend separation didn’t loom ahead of us, that our blissful bubble would remain forever.
Only, just like the rain that would cease at some point, the future would present itself in a text from Gabe saying the plane was coming to pick me up.
I tucked the thought away, rummaging through Hudson’s stash of movies and finding one that wasn’t as gory. A historical documentary that would likely put me to sleep. As I popped it into the DVD player and started watching it, I questioned how he could watch these things.
I was two blinks from falling asleep an hour into the thing and surprised I’d made it this far when the door opened and Hudson came in, shaking himself like a dog.
“That’s cute,” I said. “You want me to give you a treat and call you a good boy?”
He shoved his hood down, his hair soaked even with it in place. “You can give me a treat, but leave the good boy. I’m the only one who uses that term.”
“Don’t you dare call me a good boy.”
The scolding frown he gave me was enough to make my insides tumble.
I watched as he pulled his boots off, followed by his soaked socks after hanging his coat up.
He unhooked his buckle, turning his eyes to mine, and my cheeks warmed.
Rain soaked his pants almost as much as his hair, and from the way he popped his button and unzipped them, hunger shading his eyes, I knew they’d be off before he even made his way over to me.
He shoved them down, his boxers not hiding how ready he was to follow through on his earlier promise.
Yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it in the pile, he stalked over to me, saying, “I thought I told you I wanted you in bed when I got back.”
“Well, I didn’t want to lie around in bed, so I put this boring movie on instead.”
He looked over at the television. “I like that movie.”
“You would.”
Arms caging me, he leaned over, his wet hair dripping on me. I ran my fingers through it and ruffled it.
“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he complained, biting at my lip.
He grabbed my waist and, in one swift move, had me sitting on his lap, straddling him. His thick length pulsed against me, and I ground into it as he lifted the shirt from my body.
“That’s better,” he said, smothering my reply with a kiss that left my words scattered like fall leaves on a windy day.
Every touch was like a brand on my skin, scorching me with its heat until I could no longer contain my climax, and it tumbled, sending me into an abyss only he could reach.
And as he met my writhing body with fevered thrusts, he chased my release, tunneling down that abyss, sweeping me up and encapsulating me until it felt as if our souls had merged.
Steady and calming, Hudson’s chest rose with his breaths. My hand rested on it, moving with the rhythm as his fingers played in my hair.
“Why did you move to Montana?” I asked, my voice a lazy drawl.
“It seemed far enough from my mother to annoy her.”
I peeked up at him, my hair falling into my eyes. He swept it back, leaning in to give my forehead a kiss before he flopped his head back on the pillow. With a sigh, he stared up at the ceiling.
“After we broke up, I didn’t know what to do.
I wasn’t ready to run the company with my mother, so I told her I needed time to travel, to get my head on straight.
She relented. I think she could tell how wounded I was, and my mother may be a bitch most times, but she still loves us.
She told me to go but made it clear that when I returned, I would take my place by her side.
She’d already given me the year after college when I’d insisted on staying near campus until you graduated. This was the last she’d give.”
His hand drifted over my waist as he spoke, a move that seemed as natural as breathing.
“I drove across the country, staying in cities at first, but the small towns drew me in. When I was heading back home, I went north, and as I drove into Montana, I knew it was where I needed to be. Like a feeling that hit me square in the chest.” He peered down at me again.
“Same as the day I met you. It was like everything aligned and the world was perfect.”
I scooted up and turned his face to mine, rubbing my hand over his rough stubble.
“So you stayed,” I said as his hand circled my back.
“No, but I knew I was coming back. I spent a week here in Valley Knoll and met the Rittons, who owned this ranch, before I returned to New York. I spent two years working for my mother and hated every minute. When I took time off, I returned here, stayed with the Rittons, and it was like returning home each time.” He took a moment, and I gave it to him, wondering what he was thinking about.
“I got a call from their son, John, telling me his father had passed unexpectedly and they were moving his mother in with his sister in Colorado. Neither of the kids had any interest in the ranch, and since I loved it so much, he called to see if I wanted to buy it.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head.
“It was impulsive and foolish. I knew nothing about running a ranch or cattle. I knew horses and thought the rest would come.” Rich chocolate irises looked back at me when he opened his eyes.
“I gave him a verbal agreement and told my mother that day.”
“I bet that went over well.” Although it must have gone better than when Gabe had told our father he was choosing Tori and the bastard had threatened her and her family. Not that I wouldn’t have cut off ties with him if he’d done it after all I’d given up.
He took my hand and kissed it before lacing his fingers through mine.
“Not really. She handed me a check to buy the ranch, but it came with her disinheriting me. Like I said, she gave me time to fail, and when I didn’t return home, she cut me off. That was the last cent she ever gave me. I haven’t talked to her since the day I walked out of her office.”
Stunned, I couldn’t stop my gasp.
“And your father? Your brother?”
He shrugged. “Dad and I talk maybe once a month. You know how my mother is. She runs the house, and he tiptoes around her moods.”
“What about Parker?”
This time the streak of pain was stark. Hudson and his brother, Parker, had been close.
Like Gabe and I were, but without the awkward distance that tainted our relationship.
Our father had shaped us to be different as had our circumstance and while Hudson and Parker never failed to hug and laugh, their bond clear in their body language, Gabe and I didn’t touch, rarely laughed, knew that to do so would embarrass our father.
Hugs were not a thing in our world, but they had been in Hudson’s.
Even though his mother was a shrewd, calculating businesswoman, there had been affection.
His throat bobbed, and pain etched its way into my chest. “She insisted he cut me off, too. He took my place, the new golden child. He was always better in that environment, so it's good for him.”
“Is he happy?”
“Yup. And the company is better for it. He’s a mini version of my mother, and he was made for it. My heart wasn’t in it. I was never a company man, but Parker is.”
I’d always known he wasn’t. He was an outdoorsman. That’s where he thrived. Even if he hadn’t fully thrived since I left him. Of course, I was a city girl, and I hadn’t thrived either, even in my element.
“Do you still talk to him?”
He smiled, the tension lessening in his muscles.
Parker was five years younger. I’d met him several times, and each time he’d grilled me on my father’s business, asking about technical aspects I had yet to learn, even though he was still a teenager.
It made sense that he had done so well with their mother’s company.