Hudsons Crossing

by Altonya Washington

  “Hush.” He spoke the gruff order as he entered her body.

  Riley buried her face in the crook of his neck and let her cries settle there as she inhaled the fantastic scent of his cologne. She lost her fingers in the silken beauty of his close-cut waves and accepted all that he gave.

  They took each other slowly yet with much enthusiasm. Asher’s satisfied grunts were low, tortured sounds while he relished her moisture drenching his length as her walls gripped him like the perfect glove.

  A knock sounded on the office door. The phone rang a few times. Both forms of communication were ignored.

  Chapter 15

  Riley literally floated past her front door that afternoon. The interlude with Asher had ended all too soon, and she could only hope he’d return home early to continue what had been an ongoing love scene.

  She grabbed a glass of orange juice from the kitchen, ignored the flashing light on the answering machine and opted for a soothing bath, which she hoped to follow with a hearty dinner and lovemaking with her husband. Not to mention alleviating the source of tension she could no longer tolerate. She planned to tell Asher about the job offer that evening. The only remaining question was, should she tell him before or after they made love?

  Riley decided to ponder the question during her bath. It didn’t take much time to fill the tub with scented oil and remove her clothes. As she passed before one of the mirrors, she caught sight of her body. A smile of curious wonder tugged at her lips, and she trailed her fingers across the tiny rise of her belly.

  A bump. The baby was really there. Closing her eyes, she uttered a tiny prayer that her child would not be disappointed in her, that she’d do right by it. While her own childhood hadn’t been a tragedy, she’d ensure her child had a far better one than she’d had.

  And doesn’t that include having its father in the same house?

  Contemplating the question, Riley went to enjoy the hot bath and cold glass of orange juice.

  She heard the front door close over the easy listening CD she had playing at low volume in the bathroom. “Asher?” she called and shivered happily when his deep voice responded.

  Settling back in the still-warm bath, she’d closed her eyes for only a second when she heard the voice of her publisher, Gloria Reynolds, wafting in the air. Tapping fingers on her forehead then, Riley realized the flashing light on the answering machine was something she should have seen to.

  Gloria was speaking of the new publication and saying there was one more meeting with a few people she and Misha hadn’t spoken with before.

  “…Riley please rest assured that I’m not trying to pressure you here. I know you still need to hash out all the details with your husband. It’s just that these folks are eager to speak with you and Misha. They’ve heard so much about you both and are quite pleased by the possibility of you coming on board.”

  Gloria apologized for the lengthy message, explaining she hadn’t wanted to risk having to leave it on her cell. “We’re looking at the middle of next week for a dinner meet, but I’ll give you a call with the particulars. Oh! And feel free to bring Asher along. The group would definitely love to meet him.”

  An emptiness filled the loft then. Gloria’s bubbly message only accentuated the dread now soaking the air. Riley sat in the middle of the water, which now felt tepid around her. She didn’t dare move, especially when she heard Asher’s footsteps bringing him closer to the bathroom.

  It took only a few seconds for him to arrive. To Riley, it felt like hours. When he leaned against the doorjamb and eased both hands into his pockets, she knew her voice had deserted her before she tried to utter a word.

  “So when were you gonna tell me about that?”

  “I’ve been…trying to for weeks. I could never work up the nerve to do it.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed wickedly. “Is that because you’re going to tell me you’re taking the job?”

  “Well, I haven’t really decided.” She stopped talking when his expression told her the answer didn’t pass muster.

  With slow steps, he entered the bathroom and took a seat on the counter. “I think they’ll want an answer soon. Surely you’re favoring one decision over another?” He felt his heart lurch at the guilt he saw in her eyes and knew she’d probably made her decision the very first day.

  Riley ran a shaky hand through her hair. “It’s hard to make a decision like this, Asher. I can’t—”

  “Damn, stop lying to me, Ri!” He stopped and forced a measure of calm to his voice. “This isn’t a hard choice to make. It’s our marriage or your job.”

  “You’re wrong! There’s a lot more!”

  “What more?” His gaze took on a curious gleam that seemed harsh. “Is there another reason why you’re so reluctant to leave New York?”

  Riley didn’t need further clarification. “Jackass. Don’t do that. You know I’d never—”

  “Do I, Ri? Do I really know that? Hell, you can’t decide between me and our child and some job writing for a paper. What the hell do you expect me to think!”

  Her temper flaring, Riley commanded her tears to stay hidden. “Why can’t you come back?” She pinned him with a glare of her own. “Why don’t you tell me the secret you’re keeping, Asher? Admit it, there’s a lot more to you not wanting to be here with me and the baby than you’re letting on.”

  He smirked knowingly. “So you have made your decision, huh?”

  “Don’t turn this around on me.”

  “It already is on you.” He aimed an index finger in her direction. “You’re the one with a decision to make.”

  “Snake.” She pounded a wet fist on the edge of the tub. “You can work just as easily here as you can in Phoenix. You are the boss, Asher.”

  He was pacing the dark tiled floor. “I told you New York is no place to raise a child.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Jeez, not this again.”

  Turning the tables, he stormed to the tub and leaned down to cup her chin. “New York is no place to raise my child.”

  “Damn you, Asher.” Riley blinked the tears from her lashes. “I don’t want to fight about this anymore.”

  His smile was grim. “Then thank them for the offer and turn it down.” With those words, he smacked a hand against the surface of the chilled bathwater and walked out of the door.

  Riley lifted her head quickly and then dropped it back to the pillow when she realized she wasn’t late. She’d taken the day off to rest and be refreshed for Victor Lyne’s signing party. Groaning into the pillow, she wondered if she shouldn’t just go on into work.

  Asher probably wouldn’t want her at the party, anyway. She smoothed a hand across the mattress, feeling the coolness of the sheets. He hadn’t come to bed last night, and she’d bet good money he was nowhere inside the loft. Rarely had she seen him lose his temper—not even when she’d written that story that prompted their meeting and refused to give up her source.

  “Mmm…hungry, baby?” she inquired when her stomach growled. “Me too.” She moved to leave the bed but found she had no strength to push back the covers.

  “In a little while, baby,” she whispered seconds before falling back into a dead sleep.

  Asher hadn’t left the loft. He’d wanted to, but something wouldn’t let him walk out the door. He wouldn’t lose her over this. They’d been through too much. She was his, and his she would remain. But he had to tell her. He had to tell her the truth about why living in New York wasn’t an option for him.

  She already knew he was keeping something from her, and she was too sharp to let it slide much longer. Soon she would begin to dig and gather the facts on her own. He stood in the bedroom doorway and watched her sleep. Admitting he was afraid wasn’t a thing he was finding it easy to tell her. He’d dealt with it long enough before hightailing it to Phoenix all those years ago. Then Riley came into his life, and she was an NYC girl through and through. Then he fell in love with her, and slowly the fear began to root itself in his soul onc
e more.

  When she told him about the baby, he was a hair’s breath away from hustling her out of New York, by force if he had to. He strolled over to take a seat on the bed. He smiled at the haphazard hairstyle that flattered her lovely dark face. Idly, he toyed with the clipped locks while she dozed. He wouldn’t lose her, but he couldn’t move back. Stalling or sharing the reasons why would only add more damage to the situation. That wasn’t fair to her, and it couldn’t be good for the baby.

  He felt a vibration in his pocket and pulled out his BlackBerry. Pressing a kiss to Riley’s temple, he left the room to take the call.

  “Oooh, Justine, he’s so…lovely. I don’t think I’d want a man like that pissed at me,” Diane Sims noted as she watched Asher greet his lunch partner across the dining room.

  Justine Duke rolled her baby-blue gaze and checked that her recorder was filled with a fresh cassette. “I’m not trying to sleep with him. I only want a story.”

  Diane shrugged and spared her friend a fleeting glance. “Sleeping with him might just be the way.”

  “Please. Everyone knows the man’s obsessed with his wife.”

  “True.” Diane sighed, a smidgen of envy in her eyes. “Riley Stamper is definitely a goddess.” She grimaced and turned to face her friend more fully. “Are you really sure about this?”

  “I have to be if I expect to get my story.”

  “But are you really sure there is a story? Like you said, the man is obsessed with his wife.”

  “There’s a story there. I know it.” Justine placed a perfect French-manicured fingertip on the table. “No way is all that distance not an issue between them.”

  “Justine…sweetie, every couple is different. Asher and Riley are a high-powered couple. Maybe it works for them.”

  “Bull.”

  “And you just expect him to admit that?”

  Justine winked. “No, but I’m a good enough reporter to squeeze out at least one comment that’ll tell me if I’m on the right track.”

  “And if you’re not and Bob and Grady find out?”

  Justine was on the verge of laughter. “Then they’ll know there’s a story there, too, and I’m all set.”

  Asher and Talib chuckled heartily over the joke made by their lunch partner—reporter Hayes Ortiz.

  “Seriously, though, guys, congrats on Victor Lyne’s signing. That was a matchup no one saw coming. Any comment?”

  Asher and Talib exchanged glances. They generally shied away from the spotlight, preferring to leave that domain to their clients. Hayes was a friend who usually got first dibs on the goings-on at Hud-Mason.

  Talib nudged his partner’s elbow. “Is he fishing for a story or an apology?”

  Hayes laughed. “Only a story. I swear.” His dark eyes sparkled as brightly as his smile. “No one’s surprised Bastian Grovers got the exclusive. After all, the kid worked at his paper and on Riley’s team, no less. I’m sure the lovely Mrs. Hudson looks out for her own contacts before her husband’s.”

  “Damn right.” Asher tilted back a bit of his gin. “Word to the wise, though, Hay. If Riley hears you call her Mrs. Hudson, she’ll break your jaw.”

  The resulting laughter from the male trio only roused further interest from the restaurant’s female diners.

  Talib and Hayes left shortly after Asher offered to pick up the check. He stood next to the table, signing the receipt and adding a hefty tip for their server.

  “Mr. Hudson?”

  Asher turned, offering a soft smile to the attractive brunette who’d called his name.

  “Justine Duke.” She offered her hand. “The First Beacon.”

  Asher’s smile began to fade into a grim line. “I leave all media comments to my clients, Ms. Duke.”

  “I understand, Mr. Hudson, but my interest isn’t in your clients, but you.”

  Asher bowed his head at the obvious manner in which she batted her lashes. “Ms. Duke, I’m a married man. I’m sure you know that.” He studied the keys in his palm as he spoke.

  Justine nodded. “I do. You and Riley are one of New York’s dream couples.”

  Asher eased the keys into the pocket of his dark trousers. “Then you know I love my wife, and the thought of doing anything to hurt her nauseates me.”

  Again, Justine nodded, but she raised her hand defensively. “If I could just clarify, Mr. Hudson.” Her gaze softened a bit more. “While any woman in her right mind would adore a moment of your time that way, my interest is actually in the dream couple status that you and Ms. Stamper enjoy.”

  Curious, Asher remained silent.

  “It’s interesting that you’ve maintained such a great relationship when there’s such distance between you.” A wave of excitement shook her voice when she noticed a flicker of emotion in the man’s bright, alluring stare.

  “It’s incredible that it hasn’t upset things overly much. Or has it?” She went on, glimpsing the muscle jumping along his jaw, in addition to the emotion now blazing in his eyes.

  Asher scanned the dining room before stepping close to Justine. “I don’t give comments about my business, Ms. Duke. Acquiring one about my marriage is even less of a possibility. Good day,” he said and brushed past her.

  Justine fought to keep her smile from broadening. “Just as I thought.” She clicked off her recorder.

  Riley cast a resentful look at the peach frock hanging from the back of her washroom door. The party for Victor Lyne’s signing was not an event she was looking forward to attending.

  She put down the lipstick tube and braced both hands around the basin of the sink. Lately, keeping her eyes open was about as difficult as staying on her feet. She needed a vacation. No, that wasn’t it…She needed her husband to meet her halfway. Actually, she needed her husband to meet her in New York.

  They’d barely spoken since the bathroom blowup a few days earlier. She’d always known Asher to be a reasonable man. She’d assumed it was one of the greatest keys to his success, and it was one of the many things she loved about him. Now, he was like a man she didn’t know—stubborn, close minded, argumentative….

  Of course, the issue of his child’s upbringing was the topic now. But there was more. It was time for Asher to be a little forthcoming about why he was really so against relocating to New York.

  Pushing herself away from the sink, Riley made it over to her desk and began a search of the newspaper archives. She did a search on Asher’s name, and for the next thirty-five minutes, she read what she already knew: how a black kid from Connecticut graduated with honors from Rutgers and went on to make a great name for himself in pro basketball.

  It was a pretty good life until he walked into a convenience store around ten one evening and found himself in the middle of a holdup. Instead of doing what the gunman said, Asher played hero, suffering a gash along the cheek and a bullet wound to the knee, which ended his young career.

  When asked if he’d do it again, Asher said, “In a heartbeat.” The store owner, along with a mother and her two kids, never stopped singing his praises. Riley read on until she got to the rather sensationalized coverage of their relationship. She then conducted an extensive search, which uncovered pretty much the same documents. There were always ways to go deeper, but Riley decided it would just be a waste of her time. She asked if it was really something she wanted to know. Want, however, had nothing to do with it. Whatever it was, it was starting to unravel her marriage and to destroy her child’s home before he or she even entered the world.

  “Twice in one week! I don’t know whether to be honored or suspicious!”

  Hayes Ortiz only managed a brief smile at Talib’s quip and stepped inside the suite. “Sorry for dropping by unannounced, man.”

  Talib waved him forward. “Not a problem.”

  “I didn’t want to sit on this for long. I’ve probably waited too long as it is.”

  “Can I get you a drink?” Talib tried to lighten the mood, not caring for Hayes’s foreboding tone.

  “
Whatever you’re havin’.”

  “Spill it,” Talib urged while preparing two Scotch and waters.

  “Some, uh…some pics came through the lab yesterday.” Hayes cleared his throat. “We got a lot of photographers on staff who take on freelance projects.”

  Talib passed Hayes a glass and sipped from his drink while waiting.

  “Um…a lot of the photographers come across interesting pieces and usually try to sell them to reporters on staff for a hefty sum and a photo cred.”

  Talib noticed the man slapping a wide manila envelope against his thigh.

  “These photos weren’t sold in-house. Probably because I’m on staff.” Hayes lost his taste for the drink and set the glass on the nearest table. “I got a few photographers down there who look out for me when the juicy stuff comes through. Guess I found out about this because I’m friends with Asher.”

  Talib’s glass stopped midway to his mouth. “Hayes, why don’t you get to the point? What’s this all about?”

  Wasting no more time with words, Hayes passed the envelope. Talib finished his drink and tore into the envelope. His frown vanished as he shuffled through shots of Riley and Bastian Grovers.

  “So?” He shrugged and looked up at Hayes.

  “You don’t think those could be misconstrued?”

  “How?” Talib waved the photos slightly. “His hand on her cheek, sitting next to her on the back of a car? Hardly a hotel-room romp here, Hay.”

  Hayes reached for his glass and motioned toward the pictures with it. “What about the hug and kiss? Two of ’em.”

  “Could be anything.” Talib scanned the shots again.

  Hayes considered Talib’s disinterest and shrugged. “Guess you’re right. But would you believe that if you were a husband living over halfway across the country, with a wife living here in New York and looking like that?” He smirked and tilted back a bit of his drink. “I haven’t met a man yet who doesn’t envy Ashe for snagging her.”