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“Divorced life suiting you?” he quizzes as we make for the baggage claim to retrieve my luggage. He knows it’s not official yet, but it’s as good as.
“More than I could have expected.”
He gives me a look, but I’m not elaborating on that yet.
“Almost didn’t recognize you with your hair short.” I only caught up with him briefly on my last visit, just before I flew to New York, and it was still long then.
“They say a change is as good as a holiday,” he muses.
“It suits you.”
He gives me the side eye. Hudson runs the family cotton farm and lives only a few miles from the distillery. He’s always over on our property, helping out wherever he’s needed when he’s not doing his own shit.
“What’s new?” he asks when we’ve retrieved my luggage and he’s wheeling the trolley out to his truck.
“Not too much.”
“How was New York?”
“I got some business done.”
“I heard Celeste’s brothers and Callan got the drop on the asshole that jilted her while you were there?”
Now that’s something to grin about. “Yeah, I’m sure I’m gonna hear all about what happened when I get home. The guy’s a real life asshole.”
“Word is you set the whole thing up?”
I chuckle and hold my hands up. “Guilty as charged.”
“Why are you in such a good mood anyway?” he asks, as he reaches the truck and we load my shit in. Hudson is almost as tall as me, but he’s more wide-set, heavily built and as strong as an ox. He was a bullfighter until an injury took hold and forced him to retire at the peak of his career. He took over his family’s cotton farm soon after, when his mom got sick and passed away.
“Maybe I’m just happy to be back in Stoney.” I shrug.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I glance at him as we climb into his truck and he rumbles her to life. His truck is his baby and not a lot else, other than his horses. The guy is broodier than I am, though he seems in a good mood today. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re enjoying something, and it sure as hell ain’t talking to me about shit. What gives?” He swiftly exits the parking lot as I try to keep my grin in check. I can’t help it because I had the best night of my life last night. I’m still reveling in everything Hartley. Which reminds me… I fish my cell out of my back pocket and take it off airplane mode.
I’ve known Hudson since we were kids, so I know it’s useless trying to hide anything from him. The fucker is too observant for his own good.
“I met a woman last night,” I say with a sigh, pulling my shades down and settling back into the seat. I’m tired from lack of sleep last night, and can’t wait to crash when I get over to my pad.
“About time.” He grins. “Anyone would think you’ve been lying low with women on purpose since your divorce started.”
“Something like that.” I sigh, shaking my head. “But man, Hudson. You should’ve seen this woman.”
“Yeah?”
I give him a rundown of her appearance, and what she wore and then the whole table mix up shit and downing a bottle of Bollinger. There’s no prizes for guessing what happened next. I don’t give him all the details, of course, but by the time we’re arriving in Stoney Creek, he knows we were up all night. I still have her thong in my jeans pocket.
“Sounds smokin’,” he says. “You get her number?”
“Now there’s a funny story with that,” I chuckle. One that wasn’t a laughing matter when I woke up to one cold side of the bed this morning.
“Sounds like we have a lot of catching up to do.” He clutches the wheel, the sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up, revealing the black leather cuffs on his wrists and an array of tattoos traveling up his forearms. This man likes his ink.
He glances at me. “Welcome home, Gray. I mean it, man. It’s good to have you back.”
