Chapter 10
Ten
AUDREY COULDN’T SLEEP. RESTLESS, she retreated to the pottery studio.
Probably there was some rule about being in here at night, without staff supervision.
But she’d come often enough that she knew the ropes, how all the equipment worked.
She wouldn’t break anything. She just wanted some quiet time alone with the clay, to feel it beneath her hands.
Switching on just a couple of the lamps on low, she perched on the stool and turned on the wheel.
The steady whir of it soothed her. This was better than all the therapy she’d had after the accident.
There was a distinct possibility she’d need a crate to pack up all the pieces she’d made since she got here.
She ached, in body and mind, both from overdoing it the last several days and from the discovery of yet another loss.
There’d been so many in the wake of the accident.
She didn’t know why this one felt so huge, especially when she hadn’t even known it was an issue until today.
But it made her feel somehow incomplete. Yet another sign of being broken.
Hudson didn’t think she was broken. And he’d certainly gone above and beyond to show her that she could absolutely still feel everywhere it counted.
And dear God, how she’d felt. Just the thought of his mouth on her had her going wet and achy again.
He’d given her the best orgasms of her life.
She had the beard burn on her thighs to prove it.
What did some lasting nerve damage mean in the face of that?
But he hadn’t taken anything for himself.
She didn’t know how to feel about that. In truth, she didn’t know how she felt about any of this, and for once her scientist’s mind wasn’t keen on analyzing it.
She didn’t want to be in this alone, didn’t want to be the only one overwhelmed with feelings that were far too complex for a mere camp fling.
She was in over her head, and she was deathly afraid that even Hudson couldn’t save her from this.
The outside door opened. Audrey braced to explain her presence to camp security, but lost her train of thought when Hudson stepped into the room, as if summoned by her thoughts.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Had she become so predictable? Maybe. She’d been in here every day since camp started.
He crossed over to lean against a bench, looking mouth-watering and sexy in low-slung jeans and a T-shirt. Beneath her hands, the vessel she was drawing up began to dip. In an effort to save it, she switched her attention back to her project and said nothing.
“You okay?”
She jerked her shoulder in a shrug, keeping her focus on the quiet whir of the wheel and the clay.
“I’m sorry.”
Her gaze flickered to his, and she managed a small smile. “For what? The two mind-blowing orgasms? I think we both know I enjoyed them.” Just looking at him had her legs going loose and heat gathering low in her belly. She’d happily spend the next week in his bed.
Hudson shifted. She wasn’t used to seeing him as anything but fully self-assured and confident. “No. I just…I don’t know if I handled things the best way today, and I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
He was so sweet, and he wasn’t the kind of guy you expected sweetness from.
She didn’t know why he cared, but it was obvious he did.
And that did something to her, warming a long cold place in her chest. She could get used to that.
Which was foolish, as there was no room for a future with him.
Regardless of what choice she made, neither job option was anywhere close to Syracuse.
She wasn’t even sure how she’d feel going anywhere near the site of the accident.
Not that it mattered. They hadn’t broached the subject of whether this could be more than whatever it was.
Come next week, they’d both go back to the real world, and they’d both have to find a way to be okay with that.
Because he seemed to need the reassurance, Audrey worked up a smile. “There’s no need for apologies. I’m fine.”
“You’re upset or you wouldn’t be in here in the middle of the night.”
She could’ve pointed out what his own nocturnal wanderings said about his mental state, but deflection wasn’t going to work on him. “I’m not upset.” Being upset with reality was pointless.
“I know you better than that.” The irritating truth was that he did. He understood her in a way few people ever had
But she didn’t want to get into that. “Ever done pottery?”
“No.”
“It’s very therapeutic. Come sit with me. Get your hands dirty.”
She didn’t think he’d really do it. But after only a moment’s hesitation, he crossed the room.
She opened her mouth to tell him where all the supplies were located, but before she could speak, he’d dragged the stool from the next potter’s wheel and sat behind her.
It wasn’t at all what she’d meant, but what red-blooded woman could sit in a pottery studio for a week and not have at least one fantasy about a Patrick Swayze in Ghost moment?
So, Audrey went with it. “Give me your hands.”
The hardness of his chest pressed into her back as he leaned forward, stretching his arms toward the wheel.
She laid her hands over his and knew she’d be adding this to the roster of fantasies she’d begun to collect about them.
She pressed his palms against the clay, deliberately collapsing the shape she’d begun in on itself. Starting over.
“I messed it up.”
She thought maybe he was talking about more than the vase. “No. It was just a first attempt. Sometimes it takes a few tries to get it right.” Reaching over, she dribbled more water on the clay. “What does it feel like?”
“Cool. Slick. There are lumps, but I can feel them smoothing out under my fingers.”
Audrey felt her own rough edges smoothing out as his warm breath brushed her nape.
“I love that feeling. It’s very Zen. Like no matter how much of a mess things might be, if you stick with it, apply consistent pressure and effort—” She cupped his fingers and used them to mold the clay.
“—eventually things get better.” Reaching to the center of the lump, she pressed a thumb in, guiding his hands to draw it into a bowl shape.
“Not everything does.”
“No,” she agreed. “Sometimes things are just broken.” She brought their hands in again, collapsing the shape.
“You aren’t.” The fierceness made her smile.
Because she didn’t want to do anything else, she let herself relax back against him, let herself have the illusion that she’d always have this strong body to lean on.
That idea was as seductive as his very talented mouth.
“Not in any important way, no. It’s not how I think of myself most of the time.
But sometimes something happens that reminds me. ”
“Being around me this week has to be one gigantic reminder. I didn’t think about that before today.” His tone dripped with a regret that shocked her.
“No. You don’t remind me of the accident.
Not how you’re thinking. You remind me that I’m still alive.
That I’m still perfectly capable of living a full life.
I don’t feel broken when I’m with you. Because when you look at me, you actually see me.
Not the aftermath of the accident. Not the girl genius.
Me.” He had from the beginning. Turning her head, she met his eyes and swallowed against a throat gone suddenly tight.
“I’m going to miss the hell out of you when camp is over. ”
“Likewise.” He flexed his fingers to curl with hers. Neither of them looked at the clay.
“Hudson.”
“Yeah?”
The words piled up like a logjam in her throat, but she forced them out anyway. “Tell me this isn’t just me.”
He shook his head. “It’s not just you.”
Something loosened around her heart at that, even as a part of her thought of the ticking time clock. They had only days left together. How could that possibly be enough? “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to keep this simple.”
“Because we’re not.” He dropped his brow to hers. When he spoke again, his voice was deceptively light. “You know how you survive a camp romance?”
“How?” She needed all the survival tips she could get, because she knew that walking away from him, from this, would be brutal.
“You take the time you have and don’t talk about the end of camp.”
Accept that this was time out of time and embrace it. If that was the choice, she’d already made hers. Maybe she’d made her choice that first night on the pier. “Okay.”
Hudson angled his head slightly. “Okay?”
“Then I’m all in. I want you—all of you—for whatever time we have left.”
Of course, Audrey would choose to seize the day.
Hudson should’ve realized that when he’d offered up the accepted wisdom for surviving camp romances.
But there’d been a part of him hoping that she’d do what he couldn’t and stop this thing between them before hearts got involved.
Instead she’d offered him everything he wanted—for the next week, at least.
If this were a normal camp fling, following through would be a no-brainer.
She was a beautiful woman, and he still had a pulse—currently drumming in his chest with anticipation.
But this wasn’t just a camp fling. They’d both already admitted to feeling more than they should, and taking this step would certainly reinforce that.
There would be no going back, and he was positive that the week wouldn’t be enough.
But it wasn’t in him to deny her anything.
Not now. She was the only one who could still pull back.
Hudson searched for the right words to get her to think about this one last time, without making her feel like it was a rejection. “Is that a good idea?”
She understood. Of course, she understood. “I’ve already told you I don’t expect a permanent happy ending.”