Chapter 8
Eight
AUDREY KNEW THERE WAS a chance she’d just ruined her shot at another kiss, but she was pretty sure he was entirely capable of scrambling her brain and distracting her, and she needed to know his story.
They made their way to the bottom of the course.
Thank God there were stairs down from the top.
She didn’t think she had it in her to navigate the whole thing again to get back to the start.
She’d probably overdone it again, but she’d done it—made it all the way from beginning to end, through every single obstacle—and she was proud of that.
Hudson looked proud, too. Though, why should he? She was nothing to him.
He challenged that assumption when he took her hand, after they turned in their gear.
Sam and Charlie, predictably, disappeared at that, saying they’d catch up at dinner later and making all kinds of suggestive eyebrow waggles behind Hudson’s back.
Audrey thought he’d let her go once he tugged her away from the ropes course, but he kept his fingers curved around hers, connected, at least superficially.
In truth, she felt more than superficially connected to him, and that was dangerous territory.
Except, he’d come back, seeking her out this afternoon, despite what had happened at the zipline.
In the wake of all his rescues, that had to mean… something. Right?
“I’m sorry about this morning,” he said.
“Which part?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. But since when had she ever avoided asking the difficult questions?
“Right now, it’s an even split between not kissing you back and letting you walk off embarrassed.”
Well. That was more honesty than she’d expected.
“You said it wasn’t about me and that you aren’t with anyone. Are you in the middle of a divorce?” It was one explanation that had occurred to her as she hung forty feet above the ground.
“No. Never married. Not coming out of any other relationship either.”
Okay, so she hadn’t been unintentionally poaching in someone else’s territory.
Which left what? The possibilities circled around her brain as he led her toward the gazebo by the lake, her analytical mind taking what she’d seen, what he’d said, and turning over the pieces, trying to make them fit.
As they stepped into the shade of the gazebo, she voiced her conclusion. “You lost someone.”
His head snapped toward her.
“You weren’t calm and collected after the fire the other night. It wasn’t the fire itself, because you didn’t hesitate. It was that you thought I was hurt. Since you’ve been doing the job for years, the only way that made sense was that something happened on the job.”
Hudson’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly is it you’re a professor of?”
“Sociology. I study broader trends in the development, structure, and functioning of human society, not individuals.” Though she’d taken enough graduate courses in psychology out of her own interests to complete a master’s degree.
“But I am someone who’s been on the outside for most of my life.
I’m good at observing people. You’re hurting.
You’re good at hiding it, but you’re hurting. ”
He just stared at her, saying nothing, for long enough that her shoulders began to twitch.
“What?”
“I’m just wondering, if I wait long enough, if you’ll guess the rest.”
“That’s as far as I’ve gotten.” She squeezed the hand she still held. “Tell me what’s going on, Hudson.”
He released her hand and turned away, leaning his forearms on the railing and looking out over the water. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“With me? At camp?”
“Alive.”
Whatever Audrey had expected, it wasn’t that. She moved up beside him and mirrored his position, close, but not touching, and waited.
“Three months ago, my company got called to a structure fire. Multi-story apartment building. Three of us were on the roof. Me, John, and Steve. We’ve been tight since diapers. Done everything together. School. Firefighter academy. Joined the same company when we finished. We were a unit.”
She didn’t miss his use of the past tense.
“Shit was getting dicey, but there was a woman trapped in a corner room on the back side of the building. We were trying to get a handle on the blaze, redirect it so our people could get to her. But things took a turn.” Hudson closed his eyes, his face twisting.
Audrey couldn’t stop herself from laying a hand on his where it curved over the rail. It was hard as iron beneath her touch.
“The roof collapsed on us. Steve and I fell through. I hit the top floor landing. Steve crashed through the railing and fell all the way to the lobby below. Four stories.”
She felt her heart twist and bleed with all the emotions he wasn’t letting into his voice.
“I was out of it from the fall. Dislocated my shoulder, sprained some shit. Didn’t know which way was up.
Probably would’ve tried to go down the stairs, even though it was too late for Steve.
John came down after me. He—well the details don’t matter.
He got me out. But before he could get out himself, more of the roof collapsed.
” Hudson’s throat worked as he swallowed.
“The rest of the company got him out, but he sustained some pretty awful head trauma. He’s been in a coma ever since.
” He turned toward her, and the grief in his eyes all but brought Audrey to her knees. “I walked away because of him.”
She wrapped her arms around him, holding tight. She didn’t say a word, didn’t offer false platitudes or “It’ll be okays.” Because who knew if it would? She just hung on, pressing her cheek against his heart. “I’m so sorry.”
He folded her in, wrapping his arms tight around her and burying his face in her hair.
She had the impression he hadn’t had—or let himself have—any comfort.
It was clear he still blamed himself. And instead of embracing his second chance at life, as she had, he’d shut himself off.
That made her heart ache for him. He felt such wells of grief, and she couldn’t fix it.
Eventually he pulled back enough to look down at her. “I don’t know why I told you that.”
He’d made her a deal, but Audrey knew if he really hadn’t wanted to tell her, he’d have found a way around it. “Because I’ve also been through stuff. You were there for part of it, so you know. And sometimes, you just have to talk about it. To get it out.”
“I’m a guy. We don’t talk about feelings.”
“I won’t tell anybody.” It was part teasing, part serious. She’d keep what he told her in confidence. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you have to deal with what you feel. I don’t want to make you feel guilty.” No camp fling was worth that.
Hudson lifted a hand to her cheek, searching her face. “I feel a lot of things when I’m with you. Guilt isn’t one of them.”
She arched a brow. “So, you feel guilty about that?”
He gave a wry smile. “Yeah. Then I felt guilty for letting you walk away.”
Her heart gave a hard bump under her breastbone. “I’m not walking away now.”
“I should.” But he didn’t move.
“Hudson.”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe you should just acknowledge we both need this.” Because this thing growing between them—whatever it was—had moved well past just wanting, well past the simple.
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Are you always this rational?”
“Usually.”
“Thank God.” He closed the distance between them, settling his mouth firmly over hers.
Audrey sighed into the kiss, relaxing against him when he pulled her closer.
His body was hard and hot, but his mouth…
his mouth was a sweet seduction. No rush, no impatient escalation, just a bone-melting assault on her senses.
She’d never been kissed like this, never even imagined this existed outside the pages of a book or a Hollywood screen.
Like she was the center of his world and he had an eternity just to explore her mouth.
When he eased back, she sagged, hanging onto him for balance.
Instantly concerned, he shifted his grip to better support her. “You okay? Are your knees hurting?”
“Nope. I just don’t have any anymore. You dissolved them.”
The rumble of his chuckle felt delicious. “You’re good for my ego.”
Audrey had a feeling he’d be good for her everything.
And that was just a little bit terrifying.
She turned her focus back to stiffening her legs so she wasn’t hanging onto Hudson like a limp noodle.
Now that she thought about it, the exhaustion from her day’s exertion was starting to make itself felt.
She hadn’t been kidding about needing a rest earlier.
As if reading her mind, he wrapped an arm around her waist. “How about we find one of those two-person hammocks and take a little nap?”
Snuggling up against that big, warm body and snoozing? “That sounds…perfect.”
Hudson didn’t know quite how it had happened, but he was smack dab in the middle of a camp fling. Well, okay, he knew how. He’d kissed Audrey and quickly discovered one taste would never be enough. But he didn’t know how he’d gotten to a place where he wasn’t beating himself up about that.
There’d still been no change with John’s condition.
After assuring Hudson that she’d contact him the moment there was anything worth reporting, Rachel had threatened total radio silence if he didn’t actually focus on his vacation.
So, he’d focused on Audrey. It had been a blast. Somehow, when he was with her, his world felt—not okay, exactly, but less out of balance.
And since they’d spent every waking minute together for the last three days, he was feeling—dare he admit it?
—happy, for the first time since the fire.
“That’s what you’re wearing to go canoeing?” He eyed her cargo pants and long-sleeved t-shirt. “You do know it’s June, right?”
“I also know I’m a red-head, and I’ll be applying SPF 100 all day.” She added a wide-brimmed hat to the outfit. It should’ve looked ridiculous. Mostly, he just thought she was adorable.