Chapter Seventeen

Streams of sunlight poured through the windows, warming and waking me up earlier than I would have on my usual sleep schedule. Before looking, I sensed I was alone. When I turned, I squinted at the clock on the nightstand next to where Hudson should have been sleeping. Nine-twenty-seven.

I blinked several times, adjusting my eyes, while I considered whether I wanted to get up and search for my lover or roll over and go back to sleep. I still hadn’t made a decision when the doors opened to the bedroom and Hudson appeared wearing nothing but black silk pajama bottoms and carrying a breakfast tray.

“Good, you’re awake,” he said as I sat up, the smell of coffee luring me further out of sleep. “I’m showing my family what an awesome boyfriend I am by bringing you breakfast in bed. Omelets. Sans mushrooms, of course. No cherry-flavored blow pops.” He winked as he set the tray on the table in the sitting area.

“This is one of those inappropriate moments for a blow pop anyway. And you should have said amazingly awesome boyfriend. Breakfast in bed is the best.” Though the thing making my mouth water was the never tiresome sight of Hudson barefoot and shirtless.

“I’m not that awesome.” He left the tray and untied the string of his PJs, letting them fall to the ground, exposing his beautifully erect penis. He slid under the covers and climbed over me. “I’m going to make you eat it cold.”

Before his kiss prevented me from speech or thought I mumbled, “Cold breakfast sounds perfect.”

***

It was almost noon before we were ready to dress for the day. Hudson had offered to draw me a bath to soak my sex sore limbs, but I opted for a shared shower, wanting to extend our intimacy as long as possible before we were on-duty again.

After we’d dried and dressed—Hudson in khaki pants and polo, me in a cream sundress—he left me to take our dirty dishes down while I finished primping. I chose to sweep my hair into a ponytail, an easy and quick option, so I could follow him shortly, though the idea of hiding out in the bedroom as long as I could, had crossed my mind. Truth was, as much as I didn’t want to face Sophia, I wanted to be with Hudson more.

Not knowing my way around the house yet, I headed first to the kitchen, hopeful that he’d still be there. I paused outside the swinging kitchen door when I heard voices—Hudson’s and Sophia’s.

“—didn’t invite you so you could stay in your room all day and f**k like bunnies,” Sophia was saying.

Yeah, I wasn’t walking in yet. I pressed my ear to the door, listening.

“Then why did you invite us?” Hudson’s voice was calm, his ability to smoothly wield his mother impressing me. Was Sophia the first woman he’d mastered? Had he practiced his skills of manipulation on her? Was our elaborate scheme to fool her now a substitute for the games he’d played on other women?

I wasn’t judging him for any of it. Just curious.

“I invited you because I think she—any woman you involve yourself with, for that matter—has a right to be protected. Has a right to know.”

“Her name is Alayna, Mother.” He surprised me with the sharpness of his tone. “And she already knows.” He laughed gruffly. “I love how you believe no one could possibly feel something for me because of who I was in the past.”

My chest tightened, ached for what I knew Hudson must be feeling. Brian had held my mistakes over me as well, always doubting that I could ever be better. The lack of familial support made healing all the more difficult.

Maybe Hudson and I could be strength for each other. It was a dangerous thought, putting too much importance into our solely physical relationship, but whom was I kidding? I’d long passed the moment when my emotions had entered into the picture. What was the point of fighting it longer?

Maybe we could be...more.

I’d missed some of the conversation, lost in my own head, but Sophia’s raised voice drew me back. “—can’t understand how you could tell her? What if she exposes you? Exposes us? Our family doesn’t need that kind of scandal.”

“My life is more than a scandal waiting to happen, Mother.”

“Your life is a series of scandals. Scandals that your father and I are continuously cleaning up. Your bartender whore is just the next scandal.”

Even though I’d promised myself to not let her get to me, Sophia’s insult was a punch in the gut. My eyes stung, but before tears could form, Hudson’s defense softened the blow.

“Don’t you dare talk about Alayna like that again. If you do, I—“

“Finding out anything good?”

I jumped away from the door, the unfamiliar male’s voice behind me both startling and shaming me for being caught eavesdropping. I forced my eyes to his and blushed even deeper. The chiseled face was more attractive in person than in the pictures I’d seen on the Internet, and the resemblance to his son so striking it was almost eerie, as if I were viewing Hudson thirty years in the future. He looked younger than the sixty years I knew him to be, his frame trim with only a slight paunch, and his features striking against his goatee and long salt and peppered hair.

Hudson’s father cocked his head and stroked his goatee, a gesture that seemed so natural I imagined he frequently employed it. “I’m judging by the look on your face that you already know who I am.”

“Yes. You’re Jonathan Pierce.”

“And you…hmm…don’t tell me…” He looked me over in such a way that I knew he appreciated what he saw, yet I didn’t feel ogled. “You’re a little old for Chandler, and Mira doesn’t ever pick friends who are prettier than her. That leaves Hudson. I’d heard a rumor he was dating someone, but I never imagined it was true.”

His tone was charming and easy, a hint of a drawl revealing his Texas roots. His manner relaxed me even though I’d been caught in an embarrassing situation. “I’m Hudson’s girlfriend, Alayna Withers.” I held my hand out to him. “But please call me Laynie, Mr. Pierce.”

He took my hand with both of his and held it as he spoke. “My friends call me Jack, and I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.” He patted my hand, the action managing to stay just on the right side of the okay/creepy line. When he let go, he nodded his head toward the kitchen. “Who’s in there anyway?”

A guilty smile lined my lips. “Hudson and your wife.”

Jack rolled his head dramatically. “Please refrain from reminding me I’m married to that woman.” His eye twinkled mischievously. “We obviously don’t want to go in there. Have you been given a tour of Mabel Shores?”