Chapter 20
Hudson
Ipulled the truck into an open spot directly in front of the general store. That this town was so small it didn’t have a grocery store, just the general store, had been one of the appealing features. No commercialism, just small businesses run by ordinary people.
“This doesn’t look like a bar.”
I glanced at Olivia. “Good observation. They teach you that in the city?”
She glared at me, but it didn’t stop me from grinning. Her scent lingered on my hand as I rubbed it over my face. I’d nearly kept her home for the night after seeing her fall apart on the hood of my truck. Certainly would never look at it the same again after that.
“Don’t be a smart ass.”
“Come on. We have a stop before we go to the bar.” I’d planned to be there earlier, maybe grab some dinner before we hit the bar but she’d taken so long to get ready and I’d taken so long tearing her clothes back off that it was now growing dark.
“Can we stop at Sheila’s?” she asked, hopping from the truck.
I looked at my watch. Close to closing time. “Why?”
“I want to pick something up for Tori.”
She passed through the door as I questioned her with my eyes.
“Socks,” she explained as we walked in.
“Hey, Hudson,” Ben, the shop owner, said, giving us a wave. “And you must be Olivia.”
“Hi,” she said, waving back. This was one of the shops we hadn’t stopped in to help when we’d been in town last. Of course, that didn’t mean everyone in town hadn’t already heard about Olivia and me.
“Sorry to come in at closing, but we need to grab some supplies. We’ll be out of your hair quick so you can get home to the family.”
“No problem,” he said. “Take your time.”
I walked Olivia back to the corner where the art supplies were and took my phone out, sending a quick text to Sheila to see if she’d keep the store open a few extra minutes.
“What’s this?” Olivia asked.
“What does it look like?”
Her lips turned down, and she gave me one of those looks that had made me hot when we were at each other’s throats.
“They’re art supplies. Pick what you need, and we’ll head to Sheila’s.”
“I don’t need art supplies.”
“Yes, you do. You can’t keep drawing in that lined notebook with my number two pencil that’s five years old.”
“But it’s a waste of money.”
Brow cocked, I waited for more, but she didn’t give me anything.
“You’re a billionaire, and you’re worried about spending ten dollars on art supplies.”
She rolled her eyes and thinned her lips. “Art supplies cost more than that.”
“Just pick a pad and a set of pencils out, Olivia.”
The way her face dropped, the life draining from her body, had my heart palpitating.
I knew exactly where her mind had gone again, just like earlier.
Placing my hands on both sides of her face, I gazed into her eyes and said, “Stop. I told you we’d figure it out, and we’re not going to worry about it until we have to.
Now get the damn supplies and get out of your head. ”
“You don’t have to be such a dick about it,” she muttered, avoiding my eyes.
“Yes, I do.” I kissed her forehead and turned her body around to face the few art supplies Ben had in stock. His kids loved to draw, so he had more selection than most small stores would.
She reached out and picked a sketchbook and a metal container of pencils.
“I won’t use these at home,” she said so quietly that I almost missed it.
“Stop,” I told her again, brushing my mouth over her ear. “You’ll use these in our home.”
If it were possible for someone to melt, that’s what she did, her body going limp in my hands and falling against me. I almost thought she’d passed out until she peeked up at me. From under the brim of my baseball hat she still had on, I saw the misty sheen over her hazel eyes.
“You broke my eyes again,” she said with a sniffle.
Chuckling, I kissed the corner of her eye, poking myself with the edge of my hat in the process and shifting it from her head. She reached up and took it off, shaking out her auburn curls before she plopped it on my head.
“You look cuter in it,” she said, giving me a small smile. Good God, what this woman did to me when she was like this. Sweet and soft. It made me want to scoop her into my arms and hold her protectively to keep the world at bay so she could have a few minutes of peace and safety.
I took the things from her and paid for them, holding her hand as we left the store and bid Ben goodnight. As we walked to Sheila’s, Olivia rested her head on my arm.
“I love you, Hudson,” she said, and I stopped and turned to her. Bringing her into my arms, I kissed her, loving how she melted again, her body like putty in my hands.
“And I love you, Olivia. Always have. Always will.” And it was the truth because Olivia Icinda had stolen my heart the day I met her and never given it back. I had never taken it back because it belonged to her and no one else, no matter how I’d hated the pain she’d caused me.
I held her hand on the way to Sheila’s and watched as she bought every pair of cat and dog socks Sheila had in stock. She leaned on the counter as Sheila rang her up.
“Where can I get a cowboy hat?”
“Damn, what did you do to this woman, Hudson?” Sheila asked with a laugh.
“Not for me,” Olivia explained. “For my nephew. A birthday present.”
I smiled, thinking of how she may not have told the people in her life that she loved them, but she showed it in simple ways like this. Cat socks and cowboy hats.
“Well, that would be Sam’s,” Sheila said.
“I’ll call him tomorrow, and we can pick it up when we go to the festival on Friday night,” I told her.
“Festival?”
“Remember, I mentioned it before? It starts on Friday, and I’m taking you.”
She turned to me while Sheila bagged up the socks. “Are you asking me on a date, Hudson Thomas?”
Sheila laughed and handed us the bag.
“Why, yes, I am,” I replied, taking the bag.
“I’ll have to think about that, check my planner and see if I can pencil you in.”
I gave her a scolding look, snatching her hand and saying good night to Sheila before I dragged her out of the store. Slamming her against the wall, I dropped the bags and pinned her there.
“Pencil me in?”
Heaving breaths only made her more delicious, her breasts swelling over her neckline with each one. She tilted her head and gave me a sexy grin.
“I’m a very busy woman, Hudson.”
I dropped my head closer to hers, saying, “The only thing you’ll be busy with until Monday is coming for me.”
“See, I have to pencil a date in around that. Plus, I have this sketchbook to fill, and the riding, and—”
I smashed my mouth into hers, silencing her words. There was an unstoppable craving for her I couldn’t satisfy, no matter how many times I took her. It was almost as if my body was making up for the years we’d lost.
“Come to the festival with me, Olivia,” I murmured between kisses.
Her arms wove around my neck, deepening the kiss. “Only if you promise to keep kissing me like this.”
My smile stopped our kiss, and I tipped my head back to look at her. Flushed cheeks and languid eyes. She was gorgeous.
“Always.”
Hazel irises with a gold dusting searched my eyes before she gave me a grin that had my insides heating. “Yes, I will be your date for the festival.” She sucked her bottom lip in. “What do we do there?”
My eyes creased, waiting for her to tell me she was joking, but she didn’t. “Seriously?”
She shrugged, and I groaned, hating how sheltered she’d been.
I picked the bags up and took her hand, leading her back to the truck.
“Remember when I took you to that thing at school where you ate too much funnel cake and got sick? It’s a bigger version of that.
” The school event had been nothing like it, a few games, some carnival food, but no rides or anything close to what the town put on.
“Oh, yuck. That was miserable. I don’t think I’ve ever thrown up so much in my life. Except for the time I drank a whole bottle of wine by myself. Is that what you’re taking me to?”
I opened the truck door for her. “Why did you drink a bottle of wine by yourself?”
Her eyes darted from mine, and she tried to push past me to get into the truck, but I blocked her.
“Olivia.”
Huffing, she said, “Because it was our anniversary and I wanted to go back to you and I couldn’t. My father had been up my ass about how I needed to get it together. And, well, I drank by myself in my suite and woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and threw up all morning.”
“You drank yourself into a stupor on our anniversary that year?”
“Yes,” she admitted, tucking her arms around her chest as if they could protect her from the memory.
“I sat in my room and drank an entire six-pack while I binged on pizza and listened to depressing songs that night.”
Her eyes jumped to mine.
“Been silently mourning that day for the past fifteen years, Olivia. I don’t go out. I stay on the couch with my beer and eat cold pizza and watch stupid movies.”
“Even when you were dating?”
I nodded and tugged her to me. “Even then. I told you, Olivia. You are the only one who has ever owned my heart, and it has broken more every year that we’ve been apart. That day is the only day I ever let it show.”
Her hand reached up to my cheek, caressing it as she said, “I drink merlot and stuff myself with cheese and crackers while I watch cheesy romance movies. It’s the only time I allow myself so many carbs and the only time I indulge in those kinds of movies.”
I took her hand and brought it to my lips. “For our next anniversary, it’s wine, beer, pizza, cheese and crackers, and cheesy romance movies that we will watch together.”
Her brows pulled together, and I recognized the flash of doubt, the worry that continued to hound her, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come, and she dragged my head down to kiss me.
“I love that idea,” she breathed, and I held her close, relishing the thought of celebrating us together instead of apart, like we had been for far too long.