Felony Ever After

by Helena Hunting

  Verity nodded at this image of his past, not sure what to say.

  “She passed away two weeks after that picture was taken. She had ALS. She loved that crazy wig.”

  Verity looked at his face, but he was still looking at the picture.

  “I’m so sorry.” Verity looked at the picture again. And true enough, his mother had dark circles under her eyes, and her arms were too thin.

  “She was my everything. And you’d never guess it—she always hid it—but her arms, her legs, her back? Covered in gorgeous tattoos. She stayed covered up, though. A sweater, long-sleeved tops in summer. She never went swimming. I thought she just didn’t like it. I didn’t know she had them until I helped her after she started experiencing symptoms. First was tripping, then dropping things. Do you know they can’t diagnose ALS? They can only eliminate everything else.”

  Verity ran her fingertips down his forearms before shaking her head. “Lou Gehrig’s disease, right? I’ve never known anyone else who had it.”

  He nodded slowly. “It’s a bitch. A vicious bitch of a disease—degenerates nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord.”

  Verity felt her eyes fill up.

  “Her muscles went slowly at first, but with a predictable decline, they failed her. And my father—the man who’d promised her until death did them part—wouldn’t help her. He said it hurt him too much to see her losing herself. He didn’t even care that it was still her inside—maybe even more amplified because it was like she was a concentrated version of herself. If he’d let himself, he would have seen the beauty in helping her. I could see it, and I was just a teenager. The fight in her. She fought to bike every day until she fell off for the fourth time. Then she got a stationary bike.”

  “That was heartless of him.” Verity felt the words slip out. She couldn’t even fathom what that kind of diagnoses would do to a family dynamic.

  His jaw and neck tensed. “Well, good ol’ dad? He runs a vitamin company. And not just any vitamin company. The one that promises to ward off cancer and other disease. So my mom getting ALS? She made him look bad. He’s a charlatan who claims vitamins can make you live forever. So his wife wasn’t allowed to be anything but perfect. Wholesome. No tattoos, no diseases, no weakness.” He shook his head. “He didn’t understand that she was the strongest person in the world. So much stronger than him.”

  Verity touched Hudson’s neck, then his jaw. She had no words, but she could listen.

  “He divorced my mom. So he could distance himself from what she was going through.”

  She felt her mouth drop at the audacity.

  “Oh yeah. He’s an asshole.” Hudson picked up his phone with the image of his mom on the screen.

  “So I had to wheel her into divorce court and translate for her because they couldn’t understand her speech anymore—you had to be around her every day to understand her, you had to be used to her. The day after that she had me call her tattoo artist. Spring Felt was her name. She tattooed a bike on my mom. She had a bike squeezed in between all these beautiful tattoos, and she told me to keep on getting on any bike I fell off of. That’s what she wanted to leave me with.”

  Verity saw the outline of a bike on Hudson’s arm, and she traced it.

  “I got this at seventeen, the day after my mother’s funeral. My father thought that after I was done caring for his wife—doing the things a husband should have done to help her survive, to help her stay as comfortable as possible—he thought then I would want to go to college and take over his vitamin empire. I was required by the courts to live with him until I was eighteen, and I got as many tattoos as Spring would give me. I made him look at them. He wanted a wholesome heir. I was determined to give him a thug.”

  “And that’s what I assumed you were when I met you. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I forgive you. They’re my favorite disguise. My protection.”

  He ran his hands through his hair.

  Verity shifted so she could straddle him. She held out her arms.

  He leaned forward and accepted her hug. She kissed the top of his head.

  “You’re a beautiful son. I bet she’s so proud of you.”

  Hudson wiped at his face and hugged her back. “Yeah. So that’s why the tattoos. Lots. Everywhere. She hid them from my dad, so I made sure he had to look at them on me.”

  Verity hugged him hard again and then placed her hands on his jaw, lifting it so she could kiss him.

  “Thank you.”

  “You need to know anything else?”

  “Not tonight. Now I want to see all those tattoos in motion again.”

  Hudson was tender this time. Gentle. And when they came, they were looking into each other’s eyes.

  Verity dreamed of a warmth and comfort she could never quite capture, and in the morning, she woke up in a twisted knot of limbs. She could tell from Hudson’s dead weight and even breathing that he was still asleep. She stroked his hair gently. He’d been through so much, and it must have taken a lot for him to finally open up a little last night. He was his mother’s only child, though he had a good relationship with the younger half-sisters his father had gone on to create with two other much younger women. She felt honored that he’d shared this with her, but Hudson’s heart-wrenching story didn’t explain where he went from time to time. And she felt like an intruder asking that now. He seemed to need some mystery, and maybe that was okay.

  When her phone started pinging, she remembered she’d scheduled a highly coveted hot yoga class with Angie this morning. There was no missing it.

  Verity got dressed with “help” from Hudson, who tried to slow her down with kisses and gropes. She didn’t even have time to tour the apartment, though she could tell it was spacious and likely full of interesting things. On her way out, she was looking for her shoes and tried what she thought was a closet. Hudson caught her hand before she could open the door.

  “What?” Verity thought he was trying to distract her again.

  “Your shoes are over there.” He pointed at the couch, but kept his hand on the knob.

  “What’s in there?” She put her hand flat on the door.

  “I thought you were late?” Hudson put his distracting body between her and the room she was curious about now.

  “And I thought you were trying to get me to stay?” Verity narrowed her eyes.

  “I am. In there.” He nodded toward the bedroom. “Not in here.” He tapped the door in question with the back of his head.

  Verity’s phone pinged again. She had to go. She was going to be even later than she was.

  “I’ll have the doorman call you a car.” Hudson tapped his lips with his finger.

  She hesitated a moment, but then remembered the vulnerable man who’d fallen asleep in her arms last night and gave him a pass. For now.

  She gave him a lingering kiss and hurried to her shoes.

  He held the front door open for her, and she made sure to swing her hips a little extra for his benefit.

  Verity Michaels @VerityPics03

  And then he changes everything with his beautiful heart. #HuggingHim

  Hudson Fenn @tatwhiteknight

  You bring out the best in this crazy old organ. #YoureBeautiful

  Chapter 14

  Splinters

  Katherine Stevens

  After a fabulously sweaty session of hot yoga and an even hotter shower at the gym, Verity parted ways with Angie and took herself on a special birthday shopping trip on the way home. She’d calculated carefully, and she deserved it.

  Back at her apartment, she surveyed her haul for a moment and then knew exactly what to do.

  Hudson answered on the first ring. “What’s up, Honeybee?”

  The flip-floppy thing her stomach did at the sound of his voice hadn’t changed since this morning. “Actually, I have a favor to ask you.”

  “Does it involve grand theft auto?”

  Verity sighed. “No.”

  “Do you want me to steal some
thing smaller, like a bike?”

  “No.”

  “A unicycle?”

  “Also no. I bought myself a birthday present, and I want you to help me use it. Meet me in Washington Square Park in thirty minutes?”

  “Please tell me your present is a unicycle. I’ll see you soon.”

  Verity packed up her purchases and was sitting on the edge of the fountain exactly twenty-nine minutes later. A moment later she saw Hudson walking toward her, ink flowing from beneath every part of his short-sleeved shirt. Knowing why he’d chosen to get those tattoos made them even more beautiful.

  When he reached her, Hudson pulled her to standing and kissed her firmly, finishing with a dip. “Now what’s this about a favor?” He pointed to the case slung over her shoulder. “That doesn’t look big enough for a unicycle.”

  “Let the unicycle go.” Verity rolled her eyes as she unzipped the case, but couldn’t stop smiling as she pulled out the camera. It felt so good in her hands. “I bought my camera back,” she said, turning to face Hudson. “I’ve worked the receptionist job long enough to afford this, and I’ve realized I really missed it, even without the business. I’d like you to help me break it in.”

  Hudson kissed her again. “I like seeing you with a camera in your hands. You look happy. And you have some impressive miserly ways too. I’m so glad you’re taking back this part of who you are.” He looked around eagerly. “Am I your assistant? Do you want to take pictures of the park?”

  Verity suddenly felt nervous. “Ummm… not exactly. I was hoping I could take pictures of your tattoos...in the park.”

  Hudson was silent for a moment—amazingly. “You want to take pictures of...me?”

  Verity smiled. “I do. The light is perfect right now too. And when I’m done, you’ll be able to add modeling to your résumé.”

  Hudson rubbed his chin, feigning deep thought. “The Messaging Model? That’s got a nice ring. I like it. Snap away!”

  She led him to a group of trees and found him a comfy spot in the grass. Then she created image after image of the designs and pictures on his arms. She wanted to ask him about every single one, but the park seemed too open and exposed for such a conversation. She did, however, coax him out of his shirt for a little while.

  As she photographed, following her instincts and letting the details catch her eye, Verity felt a number of conflicting emotions she couldn’t quite explain. She’d forgotten what it felt like to capture beauty with the proper equipment, to transform a moment in time into something permanent. And Hudson was so beautiful. She could see that now—so alive and fierce and vibrant. How had she ever dismissed him as a criminal? He turned to stick his tongue out at her. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.

  At the end of their session, she laced their fingers together and photographed their hands, just as she’d imagined doing.

  “I think I’ve got enough for now,” she told him after that, setting the camera back in its case. “Do you want to come back to my place for a drink? I can hook this up to my laptop and show you what I did.”

  Hudson stood, pulling his shirt back over his head. “I’m all yours. Lead the way.”

  They held hands on the short walk back to her apartment, but they didn’t talk much. Perhaps Hudson was saving his energy because the second they walked through her door, he spun her around and pulled off her shirt.

  “Your turn to be topless!” he announced, and Verity needed little convincing. They jettisoned their remaining clothes faster than a plane trying to break the sound barrier.

  They were soon a pile of sweaty limbs on the hardwood floor of her living room. She knew they’d be sore the next day, but neither seemed interested in breaking their connection long enough to move to the bedroom.

  A little while later, after nearly being drilled into Mrs. Beatman’s apartment one story below, Verity really wanted to be that girl who could say something sexy. But she wasn’t that girl.

  “There’s a twenty on the dresser for you.” Not even close to being that girl.

  Hudson shifted to look her in the face. “Excuse me?”

  Verity giggled. At least she’d been able to throw him off balance. That was a nice change of pace. He laid on top of her while they caught their breath.

  “I’m kidding,” she said. “But I do need to get up.”

  She helped him to his feet as well. “Can I get you something to drink like I originally promised? I’m not a very good hostess.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Hudson said. “This beats the reception I get at most places.”

  Verity looked down at the spot on the floor where they’d just had sex. It was buffed and shinier than the rest. Perhaps they could make the rest of the floor match it over time. Her apartment wasn’t very big, so it wouldn’t even take that long.

  She went to the kitchen, rubbing her sore backside as she went. It was a good hurt though. Or actually, no. No, this is a bad hurt. Ow.

  Verity jogged to her bedroom to look in the mirror. Oh, boy. And it had been such a magical day…

  “Everything all right?” Hudson called from the couch.

  She was woefully unprepared for this situation. Requiring help with an intimate area in broad daylight seemed like it should involve a co-pay. Would Hudson be up for this? Would she survive the mortification? She looked in the mirror at different angles, as if the problem might have been caused by a fun house mirror or a trick of the light. No such luck.

  She looked back and forth between the mirror and the couch where her unsuspecting visitor sat. They were close now, right? Closer. She knew about his mom. It was time for her to share this side of herself. The backside. Her backside.

  Her tattooed lover craned his head around the door frame. “Honeybee, is everything okay?”

  She was out of options now. Smiling her bravest smile, she asked, “How are you with splinter removal?”

  The expression on Hudson’s face went from confused to whatever emotion comes after really confused. “Come again?”

  “I don’t think I can.” Verity looked at the rug under her feet. If only she had rugs in the living room.

  “You’ve really lost me now.”

  She exhaled the last of her dignity. “Splinters. I’ve got splinters in my behind from when I was being hashtag pounded by Hudson!” She took another breath. “I can’t get them out myself. Will you help me?”

  It seemed to take him a few tries to put together a thought. “You very willingly put my penis in your mouth—not to mention bossing me around as your photo subject all over the park—yet you’re having trouble asking for my help? When did you get so shy?”

  “When I got splinters in my ass. Are you going to help or not?” The dread of what was to come made her hostile.

  A mischievous grin spread across Hudson’s face. “What’s it worth to you?”

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Verity sat down on her bed with a dramatic huff and immediately bounced back up with a yelp. “Okay, fine! What do you want?”

  “Another date,” he said with a hint of a question.

  “Another date?” she repeated with far more than a hint of a question.

  “Yes. Another date with my girlfriend.” He tried to look serious, but burst into a smile.

  Despite the pain in her nether regions, Verity couldn’t help but smile too. She resisted the urge to make a joke about his niece. “Are you really bargaining with me to be your girlfriend?”

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to bargain, Honeybee. I say we just go with it.” When she nodded, feeling a blush warm her cheeks, he rubbed his hands together. “Now, how about we take a closer look at that spectacular ass of yours?”

  Verity held up a finger and trudged to the bathroom to retrieve her tweezers. When she returned, Hudson was sitting on her bed, looking like the cat who ate the canary. The pain in her butt felt slightly anesthetized by his use of the word girlfriend. It gave her a very middle-school thrill.

  He
put out his hand. “Tweezers.”

  She placed them in his open palm.

  “Scalpel.”

  “This isn’t really that funny, you know.”

  Hudson tried to cover his laughter with a cough. “Can I make one joke about you being full of wood? Please?”

  Verity giggled in spite of herself. “No! Just get these freaking splinters out of me!”

  “Your wish is my command.” He patted his legs. “Lay across my lap.”

  She laid face-down, hoping to suffocate in her embarrassment.

  “This is kind of like playing that Operation game,” he said after a moment. “I was always pretty good at that. Can you make a buzzing sound from time to time?”

  “That’s not helping…” Verity tried for her best warning tone.

  Hudson snorted. “I disagree. They say laughter is the best medicine, and I’m feeling great!” He ruffled her hair. “All right, I think I’m all done with that side. Flip around so I can take care of the other cheek.”

  Verity repositioned, and Hudson kissed the center of her back. “You’re beautiful, Verity. This is my favorite new game. We are never sanding that floor.”

  Her teeth remained clenched, but she soon found that to be more trouble than it was worth. While not exactly enjoyable, this was certainly not the worst experience she’d had with a man. She prepared herself for pain that never came. What was he doing back there? She twisted her head to look at her tattooed Florence Nightingale, only to find him staring quizzically at her wounded rump.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “What’s what?”

  “You have a mole on your left cheek. I’ve never noticed it before.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, I got it for my birthday when I was born.” Verity had no idea why anyone would be so fixated on this. It was a tiny mole, not a third arm growing out of her ass.

  “It’s heart-shaped.”

  “That it is.” She felt another blush creeping over her with all the scrutiny, but before she could encourage him to get back to work, she found herself unceremoniously dumped onto her bedroom floor. What the—?