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“Really?” I found that hard to believe. Most men I dated thought it was my job to take care of them but didn’t want to do anything for me. Unless it was to fuck, and that was always lackluster.
My ex, Jared, was by far the worst, though. He thought I was put on Earth to cater to his every whim. He convinced me to quit my job and wait on him at home. I had just graduated high school, and he had been older. I thought it seemed so sweet to move out of Gran’s and have my own place. What I thought would be sweet became a nightmare. He wanted a little maid. It turned out I was far too stubborn to be under the thumb of a man, especially one who thought it was his job to belittle me for a speck of dirt on the floor. Never again would I allow a man to smack me across the face for it either.
Even so, I still carried Jared around in my thoughts when I shouldn’t. The damage he did to me stuck around. But as I thought about it, I realized I hadn’t gotten too nervous as of late when I made messes around Hudson. Maybe I was learning that not all men were bad, even if it seemed that way.
Besides my brother, I’d only known no-good men. Hudson was proving to be a good guy. I wasn’t even his girlfriend, and he did so much. The thought unlocks something inside my chest as I sat in front of him. Like a hidden longing for something I told my heart didn’t exist.
“She does the same for him, so why wouldn’t he?” he replied.
He was right. If someone cared for you, the same should be given back. The reality was different for most. Some of us were used, either for our bodies or money. Someone continuously gave all their love, patience, and time to their partner while never getting any love back. A person could love you one day, despise you the next. I’d been around enough family members to know that.
I thought of Aunt Cheryl and wondered what sick type of love she let consume her those days. She taught me first with all her lovers. The bruises, the tears, and all the yelling as they chased her to Gran’s. My past relationships taught me second how little we could matter to men. So, Hudson’s words were like magic. Or his life was a fantasy one. I’d never seen the type of love he spoke about.
As I watched him, I suddenly wanted to believe in the magic of love.
“They sound lucky. That’s not the case for most people.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said in a gravelly tone. “The idea of sharing a life with someone used to seem exhausting to me, but…”
I tensed when he placed his fingers in my hair and turned on the blow-dryer. Warmth blasted against my head, blowing my hair all over my face. Chills erupted on my skin, and I closed my eyes.Ah. That was nice.
Abrupt movement near my thigh made me open my lids. Hudson put his legs on either side of me, caging me in.
His soft touch, along with the heat, threatened to lull me to sleep. My body started tipping backward, wanting to lean into the comfort more. I slouched forward to keep myself from laying back and put my hands at my sides. My palms landed on each of his thighs. He was so close.
A tsunami of desire began to swirl and form in my stomach the longer I stared at my hands on his thighs. My body heated inside and out.
I felt Hudson’s chest press into my back right before he spoke near my ear. “Am I putting you to sleep?”
My nipples pebbled against my bra. I leaned forward and jerked my hands from his legs as I panted. Oh, shit. How was I getting turned on by something so innocent? Hudson would likely be disgusted if he knew what his act of kindness was doing to my body. It had been so long since anyone touched me. I tried to ignore what his proximity was doing to me.
When the blow-dryer cut off, I jumped up. “I’m sorry. The heat was making me comfortable.”
He stood and touched my hair again, which made me look back. “Much better. I’ll dry it for you from now on.”
Hudson couldn’t be serious. I could not survive his kindness! It was turning me into a mess of need. Maybe I should ease off on romance books for a while.
TWENTY-FIVE
HUDSON
“So, Genie lives with you?” Randall asked while making biscuit batter.
Glaring at the man, I scratched my forehead and said, “Yes.How many times are you going to ask?”
“My bad, my bad.” He laughed. “I’m just curious about her.”
What did he mean by curious? It better not have anything to do with the sappy expression he had on his face that morning.
“Why are you curious about her?”
“Since she lives with you, you must know if she has a boyfriend.”
I gritted my teeth. I fucking guessed he liked Eugene. Like he had a chance with her. As if I’d let him get close to her, or any man, for that matter. With a grin, I replied, “She has many.”
“What?”
“She sees a different guy nearly every night.” At least, that was my presumption. Each night, she sat by the fireplace with her Kindle. I made sure a fire was lit to encourage her to come downstairs so I could watch her. The woman was so animated whenever she read from that device.
