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Every circle, every little nudge of his fingers sent me plummeting over the edge. The climax ripped through me as his movements stuttered, taking everything and more with it, sending me below the waves that sloshed against the walls of the boat and drowning me in the most immense amount of bliss I’d ever felt. I couldn’t hear the sounds I made, couldn’t see through the fog, but Hudson’s words echoed in my head.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
It wasn’t the last time I’d hear it that night. It wasn’t the last time we’d find our ends together, either, and when we’d finally exhausted every drop of energy we had left and couldn’t last another round, Hudson pulled me to his chest and held me close. Our measured breaths filled the room, the waves barely noticeable, and as he turned the lights off and I drifted toward sleep, I could have sworn I heard him say, “Thank you.”
Chapter 39
Hudson
One Week Later
Ayear ago, if someone had asked me if I’d be up at seven on a Saturday morning making breakfast for my fiancée and son, I’d have said they were insane. A year ago, I couldn’t see myself being with anyone in a serious relationship for the rest of my life. A year ago, the thought of bringing a woman into Jamey’s life would have never crossed my mind. A year ago, I wouldn’t have been making chocolate chip pancakes. In reality, I still shouldn’t be making chocolate chip pancakes. They were turning out horribly.
The soft pad of footsteps coming down the stairs told me that Sophie had woken up.
“Hudson?” She called, the tail of my name ending in a yawn. “What’s burning?”
“Pancakes,” I laughed. I flipped the one in the pan, frowning as I was met with yet another nearly black bottom. “Didn’t think you’d be up yet.”
“Hard to sleep when the house smells like it’s on fire.” She saddled up to me, wearing one of my oversized shirts from my Harvard days that nearly reached down to her knees. “It didn’t help the morning sickness.”
I pulled her in under my arm, tucking her close to my chest. “I’m sorry, angel,” I mumbled. I planted a kiss on the top of her head as she buried her sleep-coated face in my side. “Were you sick?”
“Just twice.”
“Why didn’t you call for me?” I dragged my fingers through her hair as I flipped the pancake once more, happy to see only a dark brown side instead of charcoal.
“Didn’t want to distract you from the fire I thought you were putting out,” she said, her voice muffled from where she nuzzled into me. “And I didn’t want to wake Jamey.”
“I’m already awake.”
I looked over my shoulder, finding one very sleepy Jamey at the bottom of the stairs, one hand rubbing his eyes and the other clutching his teddy bear by the paw. “Aw, bud, you could’ve slept a little longer.”
“I thought there was a fire,” he grumbled.
I frowned as I looked back at the stack of cooked, mostly blackened pancakes. “Is it really that bad?”
“Yes,” Sophie groaned.
Jamey’s eyes blinked open, still out of sorts from sleep, and I watched as the realization settled into him. “Sophie’s here? This early? Hi, Sophie!”
Sophie lifted her head, her mop of brown hair flowing back over her shoulders. “Hi, squirt.”
“Did you and Daddy have a sleepover?” He asked, his little eyes going wide as he looked at us. “You get to have breakfast with us!”
“I don’t know if I’d call this breakfast…”
“Oh come on, Soph, it’s not that bad,” I said, turning back to the saddest stack of pancakes I’d ever seen in my life. “They’re just that color because of all the chocolate.”
Sophie snorted. “Nice try. Cereal, Jamey?”
“Yes please!”
I frowned as Sophie picked up the plate of pancakes and immediately dumped them into the trash. “It’s okay, Hudson. Not everyone was made to cook,” she teased, scraping off the scraps before plopping the dirty plate in the sink.
