Or had that been me that had done that?

Either way, the contact sent goose bumps running down my arms and warmth spreading through my chest. It had been so long since I’d touched him in any form. My body yearned for more while my head sent warning bells to run, run, run.

And my heart played some sort of Switzerland in the whole transaction, deciding not to make its desires clear.

With the war going on inside, I didn’t know what to do or say. I stood frozen, my gaze locked on his. It felt so good—so right—to do nothing but get lost in his grays. Couldn’t I find a way to do this every day of my life?

“Order!” a waitress called from down the counter.

I blinked, recovering from the trance Hudson had me in. “I have to go.” Silly to explain. I didn’t owe him anything. “Um, will you be wanting another when you’ve finished?”

“No, just the one. But I might sit here for a while, if you don’t mind.” His eyes moved down my body. “The view is stunning.”

I turned before he could see my blush.

When he left, over an hour later, he settled his bill with Liesl. I only noticed he was leaving when she handed me an envelope. “This is from the suit.”

I opened it and found a hundred dollar bill and a certificate to his spa in Poughkeepsie—the same gifts he’d given me that night in May.

“Liesl, I’ll, um, I’ll be right back.” Maybe it was because I was disappointed to see him go, but I came up with an excuse to run after him.

“Hudson!” I yelled when I found him outside headed toward the parking garage.

He stopped and waited for me to catch up.

I held the envelope out toward him. “I can’t accept this. I’m in charge here. I can’t leave for a week to go to a spa.”

It suddenly occurred to me that we hadn’t talked about my job since our break-up. “Unless you’d rather I wasn’t working here.”

“Don’t ever think that.” His tone was harsh, final. “If you think you can’t work with me as your owner, I’ll give you the club.” He would too, knowing him.

And that was definitely not a gift I could accept. “I just want to keep my job, thank you.”

He softened. “It’s yours as long as you want it.” He pushed my hand that still held the envelope back toward me. “And the certificate—keep it. You can use it anytime you want. There’s no expiration.” His fingers lingered on mine.

Was this what we’d been reduced to? Stealing touches at any opportunity possible? Making up reasons to talk?

I pulled my hand—and the envelope—away from his. “Fine. Whatever.”

A chill ran through me, though the night was warm. Frantically, I searched for something else to say. “There’s another thing.” I took a deep breath. There really was something I’d been avoiding. “I need to get my stuff from the penthouse.”

His mouth tightened. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

I ignored him. It was the easiest way to deal with statements like that. Especially when I so liked the way they sounded on his lips. “I want to come get the rest of my things Monday.”

“I can have it packed and moved for you, if you’d like.”

“I’d rather pack it myself.” If he packed, I’d end up with all sorts of things that didn’t belong to me—things he wanted me to have. As sweet as it might be, I didn’t want his gifts. I also didn’t have any room for them in the apartment with Liesl. Even if we got a two-bedroom place together as we’d been talking about doing, we couldn’t afford anything that big.

“At least let me arrange a truck.” His tone was insistent, but his eyes were pleading. It was hard to resist.

So I didn’t. “Okay. You can do that.” Only because it was going to be a pain to do it myself. And he did owe me.

“It’s done.” His lip curled up at the edge. “This doesn’t mean I’m done trying to win you back.”

“I didn’t think for a second that it did.” Though I bit back a smile, my pleasure at his declaration showed in my voice.

Hudson tilted his head to study me. “You say that as if you almost enjoy my groveling.”

I rolled my eyes and turned toward the club with a wave. But I couldn’t resist calling back over my shoulder, “I couldn’t say, H. I haven’t really seen you grovel yet.”

***

Friday and Saturday saw more gifts delivered—a coffee table book of pictures from the Poconos and concert tickets to Phillip Phillips.

“He’s, like, recalling your entire relationship with this stuff, isn’t he?” Liesl said on Sunday as I opened the box that had arrived that morning. “I hate to say it, but he’s kinda good.”

I wadded up the brown packaging paper from the box and tossed it at her. “Shut up.”

“What’s this one?”

“I don’t know yet.” I pulled out the John Legend CD I found inside and read the song list on back. I knew of the artist but had never listened to any of his music. The case wasn’t sealed so I opened it easily and found Hudson’s note.

This is the song that makes me think of you. Track 6. - H

R&B. Huh. Hudson rarely listened to music around me. When he did, he deferred to me to choose. I didn’t even know what style he liked. Was this it?

I looked back at the song list and found track six. “All of Me,” I read out loud. “I don’t know it. Do you?”

“Never heard of it. Let’s stick it in.” She grinned and added her own, “That’s what she said.”

Shaking my head at her, I pulled out my new laptop, put in the disc and pushed play on the track Hudson had indicated. I leaned my head back against the futon and listened.

The song started with a haunting piano line. Then a tenor voice crooned about a beautiful woman with a smart mouth who had the singer distracted and spinning. He was a mess, but it was all good, because no matter how crazy she made him, she was still everything to him.

It was the chorus that had me in tears, when he sang about “all of me” loving “all of you” and offered to give all of himself to her in exchange for the same.

Sure, it was just a song, but if it really held the message that Hudson meant for me to hear, well, I couldn’t help but hear it loud and clear. If he could really give all of himself to me—no more walls, no more secrets—then what was left holding us back? The past?