Chapter 27 Mira
Outside I find Hudson’s leaning against the Jeep, arms crossed as he stares into the distance.
He’s wearing tapered tan trousers and a mossy green sports coat that complements his freckled complexion.
His auburn hair is unruly, in that just-woke-up way I love, and his stubble is more defined, landing in that sweet spot between beard and five o’clock shadow.
And his undershirt is a vibrant paisley print of gold and burgundy.
He takes a moment to notice me, but when he does, he offers me a dimpled grin and it takes every bit of willpower I have not to grab him by his bolo tie and pull him in for a kiss.
“You look . . .” He trails off, his eyes tracing along my curves with desire, and heat rushes to my cheeks. “Incredible.”
“Thank Vanessa, she did all the work,” I say as he removes my bag and slings it over his shoulder.
After blowing out my hair, contouring my face, and applying a shimmery powder to all my exposed skin, she sent me out the door to Hudson like a fairy godmother.
“Her dress?” he asks, biting his lip in appreciation.
The gold dress hugs my curves in all the right places, creating a Grecian ruching all down my body. There is a slit up the side that makes it completely impractical for work, but with the way Hudson is staring, I’d wear it every day.
I nod, smoothing out the silky fabric beneath my palms. “She really should start a rental service. I think she’d make a killing.”
“Ask her how much it would be for me to buy it.”
“Why? Want me to wear it on date night?” I ask playfully.
Hudson matches my smile and presses his lips just below my ear. “Just in case I end up ripping it off you later.”
The comment sends an instant pulse between my legs. If Hudson had been this confident in the bar, Finn would have had to install protective glass for all the people who’d have thrown themselves at him.
“Get a room, you guys,” Vanessa says, coming around the corner, Adrian trailing behind her.
“We had one but you barged in,” Hudson says, resting his hand on the small of my back. I’m glad we don’t have to hide in front of them.
“I told them they could ride with us, since they missed the shuttle,” I explain, and Hudson opens the back door for Vanessa. Always the gentleman.
Once they’re settled, he helps me climb in, a feat in this dress, and waits until we’re all buckled to start the engine.
Noah Kahan plays on the radio as we ease onto the main highway.
The drive into town is idyllic. Long stretches of quiet roads, baby-blue skies, and actual tumbleweed blowing across the deserted streets.
Hudson’s hand burns against my thigh. Every few miles, I catch him smiling to himself.
Being here, with him, invokes a sense of belonging I hadn’t known I was missing.
Even when things between Phoebe and I were at our best, I always felt as if I needed to keep parts of myself hidden for fear of rejection.
But Hudson never makes me feel as if I need to be anyone other than myself.
He never judged me when I sang out of tune on karaoke nights or mixed my metals on my fingers.
He didn’t care that I let my curls stay unruly or had a second helping of chicken wings.
And he is the only person who brought me back from my grief, even if he had no idea I let a piece of myself go.
“I can’t believe the sunsets are so late here,” Vanessa says, the sky barely melting into a haze of pink and purple.
“I like it,” Adrian replies, scooting forward in his seat to be heard over the wind. “I feel like I’m actually taking advantage of the entire day.”
“Because you’re normally in bed with a book by now,” Vanessa argues.
“It’s how I decompress.”
I breathe in the crisp Wyoming air. This is one of those memories I wish I could bottle, to open on rainy days, and then I remember that I can preserve it another way.
Reaching down, I unzip my camera bag, removing the smaller of the two bodies and attaching the wide-angle lens.
Bringing the viewfinder up to my eyes, I take the photo.
The background is a bit blurry, Hudson’s smile a little off-center, his arm cut off on the frame as it reaches once more for my thigh. But it’s perfect.
I’m about to put my camera away when I see movement against the horizon. Massive, dark brown behemoths, gliding across the grassy fields. “Are those—?”
“Buffalo,” Vanessa says, as we all turn to look.
“Bison actually,” Hudson corrects.
“But they are basically the same thing though?” Adrian asks.
“Buffalo tend to live in warmer climates, while bison have thicker fur which allows them to survive the harsh winters,” Hudson explains.
“Can you pull over?” I ask, moving my viewfinder to my eye to find the perfect frame.
Hudson eases the car onto the shoulder. I unbuckle and stand up on my seat, holding the roll bars of the Jeep.
I’m in no danger of falling, but I don’t mind the way Hudson keeps a hand on the back of my calf, keeping me steady.
The animals move in a herd, the littlest lagging behind as I wait for the shot. I wait until there’s equal distance between them, the animals taking up the entirety of the frame before I click the shutter. I check the image on the back of the LCD screen when I catch Hudson staring at me.
“I can’t wait to see that one,” he beams.
And for the first time since Phoebe’s wedding, I’m actually excited to be holding my camera.