by JC Harroway
I hadn’t even noticed she’d come to sit next to me, so engrossed am I in the man I seem to need like oxygen. I shield my eyes from the sun and squint at the game taking place.
‘Who...Elliot? I should hope so.’ My deliberate misunderstanding fools no one. Brie shoots me an ‘I’m onto you’ look. There’s no point trying to pull the wool over any of my siblings’ eyes. They know me too well.
‘Yes, he is,’ I admit on a sigh, recalling the wide smiles of the Blackhearts’ boys from Hudson’s photo in Tokyo. ‘Shame he doesn’t want any, though... He’d make a great dad.’ My throat grows tight. I gulp some of my ice-cold drink to fight off the choking feeling.
I’m seriously falling for Hudson Black. It’s the only explanation for the terrible, wonderful way I feel.
‘How do you know he doesn’t want any?’ My sister interrupts my flight of panic. ‘It’s something most men don’t even think about until they meet the one, or get married.’ Brie looks and sounds so much like Mum sometimes, it’s hard to talk to her. I can imagine Mum sharing the same wisdom over a vast glass of wine or bottomless cup of tea.
‘Well, that’s just it—Hudson doesn’t want to get married. I’ve never known him to have a relationship, even. He’s a committed lone wolf.’ I knew that from the start and I stupidly allowed feelings to develop.
And now what? Do I pretend as if everything is normal, as I promised I would back in Tokyo? Do I tell him how I feel, freak him out? Should I ask Sterling’s advice and risk hurting him too?
This was exactly the kind of mess I’d hoped to avoid.
‘Perhaps you’re the one.’ Brie makes air quotes. ‘You could be the woman to make him change his mind.’
I glare at my sister, fear and longing warring for control of my pulse.
‘Oh, come on, sis.’ Brie nudges my arm. ‘You’re looking at him the way you used to drool over my Barbie playhouse when you were four.’
‘Well, you should have let me play with it, then. Perhaps I’d be more inclined to confide in you now if you had.’ I turn away from her in a huff and then snigger at my ridiculous lifelong grudge over my sister’s doll collection. I’ve never been able to hold on to resentment for long where my siblings are concerned. They’ve rescued me more than they’ve dragged me down or disappointed me. And it seems they’re still at it, as Brie’s gentle intervention proves.
She regards me with compassion, the way only a sister can.
I collapse in defeat. ‘You’re right. We have been fooling around. But we haven’t told Sterling,’ I hiss, my eyes darting around the garden in search of my ex. I don’t want him to overhear us. I’m not sure I want him to find out at all. Hudson’s leaving soon. Life will go back to normal. Why rock the boat and cause unnecessary pain?
Because a part of you hopes that Hudson will tell Sterling he wants to keep seeing you...
No. That’s a fantasy I can’t indulge.
‘Have you fallen for him?’ asks Brie.
I sigh, abandoning my drink altogether and gripping my hands in my lap. ‘I think I could.’ My eyes burn. I can’t look at Brie, and I’m grateful for my sunglasses. ‘But it’s pointless. We want different things.’
‘Are you sure about that? He can’t seem to keep his eyes off you. Claire’s noticed too,’ she says, referring to our eldest sister. ‘You won’t be able to hide it from Sterling for much longer if he carries on like that.’
I sigh, understandably exhausted, both physically and mentally. ‘The thing is, I’ve always wanted to be like Mum and Dad, like you lot. You know—a husband, a family, the whole package.’ I glance up at my parents’ beautiful Tudor cottage with the thatched roof and remember endless summers, when us kids built forts and dens by stringing blankets between the trees to play house or castles...
‘But...?’
I roll my eyes in defeat. ‘But, when I think of Hudson, I think I could be happy just the two of us. Living together, here, in Tokyo, anywhere. The white dress and the rush for a family seems...less important, somehow.’
‘And that bothers you?’
‘Not really. Just surprises me. It’s not that I’d be willing to give up my dreams for him. It’s more that my dreams seem to have shifted. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Well, love will do that to you,’ says Brie.
My head whips to the side and my jaw drops. ‘I’m not in love with him. I just...care.’ Blood whooshes through my head.
‘Aren’t you? Pretty close, I’d say.’ Brie’s toddler, Ami, runs into her arms at that moment, distracting us both. They share a brief hug and some conversation about snails before Ami rushes off again in her bare feet.
Panic fills every cell of my body. I can’t be in love with Hudson. It’s ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
‘The thing is,’ continues Brie, her tone full of sympathy, ‘when you find the one, you work all that other stuff out with them, together. Kids, where you’re going to live, who gets to empty the dishwasher. Mum and Dad didn’t always agree. He wanted another child after you and she didn’t. At one stage his job wanted to relocate him to the States and they planned to pack us all up and move before it fell through.’
I gasp. ‘Really? I didn’t know that.’
My sister nods. ‘My point is that life often turns out different from how we expect, but love and respect are the keys to compromise, and that’s really all it takes for any relationship to work. Look at you and Sterling—it didn’t work out, but you still love each other. Still respect each other enough to stay friends and work together. How many couples achieve that?’
I nod because she’s right. I’d been in search of perfection when I married Sterling. I put so much pressure on us. I was inflexible and he had his own hang-ups to contend with. We only really started communicating and compromising well once we agreed to split but decided to keep the business partnership intact.
I stare at Brie, my head spinning. What if she’s right? What if I have fallen in love with Hudson? What will I do? It’s destined to be a bigger fail than the last time I was in love. And I vowed that next time I’d get it right.
‘Oh-oh,’ she says under her breath. ‘Incoming.’ She looks up and grins at whoever is approaching. I turn, temporarily blinded by the sun, then making out Hudson’s tall, broad outline.
‘I thought I might head back to London,’ he says. ‘Sterling suggested I can take his car, if he can grab a lift with you later.’
My blood runs cold. I can’t see his eyes behind his dark glasses, but I can tell from the rigid set of his shoulders that he’s out of his comfort zone and withdrawing. He’s probably been uncomfortable since the moment he arrived.
Brie and I stand.
‘Okay,’ I agree, hiding my disappointment. I shouldn’t have forced him to attend. I hoped he might come home with me tonight, as he’s leaving London early the day after tomorrow.
Hudson bids my sister farewell and he and I move through the garden, passing from group to group so he can say his goodbyes.
We crunch across the gravel driveway to the hire car Sterling drove here—a cute cherry-red Porsche convertible.
‘Nice car,’ I say. Sterling loves cars.
Hudson nods and fiddles with the keys.
It’s like we’re strangers, not two lovers who didn’t sleep the night before because of our incendiary desire for each other. I scrape my foot through an uneven gravel patch, searching for something to say that won’t convey my feelings.
But desire isn’t love. As far as I know, Hudson’s never been in love. Do I want to risk my own dreams and happiness and security to be his test case, even if he wants a relationship with me beyond sex? Can I fail again? Break the promise I made to myself in memory of Mum?
I look up. He’s standing close, but he too is at a loss for words.
I take pity on him, because it’s not his fault that he’s out of
his depth emotionally, or that he can’t love me back. ‘Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me that you were here. I know it’s not your kind of thing.’
He grips my elbow and presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a few fraught seconds.
When he pulls back I almost blurt out my feelings. Beg him to stay. Convince him that we have something worth taking a risk on.
But the words that emerge tell me I too am scared to break what we’ve built these past five years. ‘Drive carefully—don’t fall asleep at the wheel.’
‘You too.’
It’s our only acknowledgement of our lapse last night. There’s no secret communication this time. No promise that tonight there’ll be another lapse.
My chest feels hollow as he jumps in the car and drives away. I watch the road for a whole minute and then return to my family, my realisation iron-cast.
Brie’s right: I do love him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hudson
THE KNOCK AT the door jacks my heart rate sky-high. Please let it be Monroe. I push my wet hair back from my face and pull the door inwards.
Air rushes from my chest on an excited exhale.
‘Hi. I just wanted to check on you.’ She’s wearing her dress from the party as if she’s come straight here. I hold open the door and she strides inside the hotel suite and drops her bag on the chair.
‘Did you bring Sterling back with you?’ I ask, because I want to reach for her, but also need a reason to stop myself.
‘Yes.’ Her eyes roam over my naked torso and my cock responds under the towel wrapped around my waist. The greedy fucker can’t help but react to her.
‘Did you tell him...? About us?’ Acid burns my throat, jealous that they might have shared confidences after I left. But I need to know if he’s likely to punch me at breakfast tomorrow.
She shoots me a look full of hurt and accusation. ‘No, why would I do that? What is there to tell?’
She’s right. There’s nothing, except this endless, almost incapacitating craving. But it can’t be endless. I’m leaving in thirty-five hours. I’m fine. Great. I just allowed the sex to go a bit too far and I’m addicted. Time to start weaning myself off.
Right...
Before I lose my mind, I drag her close and kiss her the way I’ve wanted to all the long day. Only she can stop this tornado of need in me. And I’m running out of time. I can’t help selfishly gorging myself until I have to give her up for good. Soon.
Not yet.
Monroe tugs at the towel on my hips and it drops to the floor. She palms my cock, encircling my length and running her hand up and down in a way that makes me boil with heat.
‘I want you.’ Her stare is alive with sincerity and passion and bravery. She’s so open and fearless. She brings me to my knees, time and time again.
I tug down the zip at the back of her dress and strip it overhead so she’s naked but for her lacy white bra and panties. I spear my fingers into her luxuriant hair and angle her head so I can trail kisses along her neck and collar bone. I want to kiss every inch of her, to imprint her on my brain like an indelible brand, something I can carry with me for ever. Something no one can take away.
I flick open the bra and spin her to the bed, removing the garment that is only in my way. She lies back, her hand gripping mine to tug me down with her, but I resist. I want to look at her, to commit every inch of her perfect body to memory—the freckles dotted on her shoulders, the exquisite hourglass curve of her waist and hips, and her long shapely legs and dainty feet.
‘Hudson,’ she says, her colour high on her cheeks. I feel her desperation. It pounds through me too. But I want so many things all at once, and I’m terrified to miss out. I want more hours in the day. To delay the inevitable and just exist like this with her.
‘I want to look at you. To kiss you everywhere. Call it old-fashioned seduction, if you want.’ I smile, trying to inject this moment with the playfulness we enjoyed in Tokyo, but it doesn’t work. Her eyes stay intense and searching, and my smile feels rubbery.
I wrap my fingers around her foot and raise her leg, pressing my lips to her ankle and then kissing a path along her calf. She gasps. Shudders.
‘Ticklish...’ She sighs as I kiss the back of her knee and drag my tongue up her thigh.
‘Put your hands over your head,’ I murmur against her sweet-scented skin.
She does what I ask, her stunning hazel eyes half hidden behind her heavy lashes. With her arms overhead, her beautiful breasts are thrust up, her nipples erect and begging for my touch.
I kneel over her, entwine my fingers with hers and then press our joined hands into the bed, pinning her in place. I lower my mouth to her breast, flicking one nipple with my tongue and blowing a stream of air over her puckered flesh. She writhes under me, her thighs parting and her hips jerking.
‘Do you ache for me as much as I ache for you, my beautiful Dove?’
‘Yes...so badly.’
I take her breast into my mouth, sucking hard. Then I alternate, treating the other side to the same attention until she gasps and begs.
‘Don’t move your arms.’ I trail my lips over her stomach and position myself between her thighs so I can lavish her pussy with the same adoration. I grip her thighs, holding her open, and then I cup her arse and lift her hips from the bed, bringing her up to my mouth.
My cock weeps. My balls are desperate for release, but I never want to stop. If I delay her climax, I can keep her here for ever, hovering on the edge.
‘Please, please...’ She moves rhythmically against my face, a fine sheen of perspiration blooming over her chest. I abandon her clit and run my tongue along the length of her torso, tasting more of her salty sweetness. I push my tongue into her mouth, swallowing her cries as I glide inside her in one smooth thrust.
She moans long and low in her throat and wraps her legs around my hips so I sink closer.
‘Hudson... I’m so close.’ Her mouth is slack with desire, her stunning eyes glazed. I slowly tilt my hips, each gentle thrust deep and disciplined, as if I have all the time in the world.
I want all the time in the world.
Her arms are still over her head, one hand gripping the other. I lay kisses over her breasts and her lips and all the places in between.
‘You are so perfect. You feel perfect wrapped around me. You taste perfect too.’ Words start to spill from me as fire builds along my spine. My hips pick up speed, the race to empty myself in her too powerful to stave off any longer.
‘Come with me,’ I say, rearing up on my elbows so I can see all of her perfection splayed out beneath me.
‘Yes...yes.’ She squeezes my fingers, centring me, holding me to the earth.
I watch in wonder as she detonates at my command, clamping around me like a vice, her face shattered in ecstasy. And I spill into her with a feral roar that I know will leave me altered for ever.
It’s a long time before either of us speaks, but I feel her questions beat against me like the insistent knocking at a door.
I wrap my arm around her waist from behind and press a kiss to her temple. ‘I’m sorry I left the party early.’
Standing in her father’s picture-perfect garden, surrounded by her large, loving family, my chest was so tight I couldn’t breathe. But it was more than claustrophobia. I felt split open with longing and grief. For what I’d missed out on. For what I’d denied myself. For what might be. And, more than that, I’d wanted to go to Monroe with an intensity that had shocked me to the core. I had to leave before I did something stupid and unforgivable.
‘That’s okay. I know how hard today was for you.’
I wince. She’s comforting me when it was her mother’s memorial. I’m the worst friend. Even a lover would be able to put their personal stuff aside and be there for her. I push up on one elbow and turn her to face
me.
‘No—it was a hard day for you. I let you down.’ I remind myself that I’ve promised her nothing, but the self-loathing remains, perhaps because I wish things could be different. That I could be different. But I can’t be her saviour. She has her family and Sterling for that—I saw the evidence today with my own eyes.
‘You didn’t let me down.’
I press a finger to her lips. ‘Let me explain. Remember I told you about Wendy, my first foster mother?’ My throat grows scratchy.
Monroe nods.
‘I think her and Bill would have kept me longer, perhaps even have adopted me, but Wendy got sick and they had to give me up.’
She blinks rapidly and I plough on. ‘I try not to think about Wendy too much, but today kind of reminded me. She was the only real mother figure I had and...well...she died. Years ago.’
She cups my face, shock and pain in her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?’
I shrug, wanting the memories to disappear. ‘I found out just before I met you and Sterling. I’d contacted Bill for the first time since I had to leave them, although I’d almost reached out so many times over the years, but then always chickened out. She had already passed. I’d left it too late.’
My breath feels like ground glass.
Monroe wraps her arms around me. ‘You weren’t to know.’
‘No.’ But it proved to me I was beyond repair. A whole person would have contacted them the minute he was able to as an adult free of the system, just to say thanks. Whatever happy memories I had were down to them, and yet it took me a lifetime to show my gratitude and concern.
I’m not whole and Monroe deserves better. She deserves a man to worship her, to sweep her off the market and spend the rest of his life sharing her dreams.
‘What about Bill?’ she asks in a whisper.
‘We’ve stayed in touch. We’re planning a visit next time I’m in London.’
‘I’ll come with you if you need company,’ she says with conviction. ‘I’m happy you told me how today made you feel.’ New resolve flashes in her eyes. ‘I wouldn’t want you to go through those feelings alone.’ She brushes the hair back from my forehead. ‘Plus, you were a huge hit with the kids. Elliot already has some business idea he wants to run by you and Claire practically burst into tears when you gave her the flowers.’ She presses her mouth to mine—tender and soft. ‘Thank you.’