Page 37 of Paper Horses

“What?” she asked, her voice growing quiet as her brows pinched.

“Your smile.”

Her cheeks darkened further, and she looked away. And that moment, so reminiscent of our youth, continued as I forgot the hate that had nested beside the love that refused to stop hounding my heart. I leaned down and kissed the bump on her forehead as if we were still something. In love and lying in each other’s arms while we planned out our future.

Hazel eyes jumped to mine, and I dropped my hands, stepping away from her.

“Sorry,” I said, rubbing my jaw and turning back to the stairs, needing to get away from those eyes that always saw into my most private thoughts. I ran back up, ignoring the idiot move and focusing on socks. “So you don’t have socks?”

A pause. A beat of silence that left what I’d done in the present, loud and significant.

“I only wear them when I work out,” she finally said.

“Great.”

“And don’t even think about getting me a pair of Jessie’s!”

I snickered as I picked up the other boot and headed to my room. “Wouldn’t think of it. Not after the boot situation.”

I grabbed a pair of my socks, knowing they would be too big but having no other options.

“Why didn’t you say something when we were at Sheila’s?”

“She put four pairs of them in the pile of clothes she handed me.”

I returned to the landing. “Then where are they?”

“In the washer.”

I rubbed the space between my eyes. She’d had me too worked up to even notice when she was stuffing her clothes into the machine. “And you didn’t think to keep a pair aside?”

“I didn’t think I’d need them, although walking on this floor is taking every ounce of control because I never walk barefoot.”

My brow quirked.

“Besides, I was hoping the annoying cartoon dogs and cats on them would wash off.”

My head went back with the laugh that hit me. Leave it to Sheila to pick the most ridiculous socks for Olivia. I threw my pair of socks at her, watching as she jumped back like it was a snake. That only made me laugh more.

“Stop throwing stuff at me,” she whined.

“But it’s so fun.” Dark eyes jumped to me, sharp and angry. “I promise only soft things from now on.”

She bent and snagged the socks, holding the boot in her other hand as she sauntered away. I couldn’t stop my gaze from lingering on that ass.

This was a bad idea, Hudson. Very bad.

So was the next thing I was considering, but that didn’t stop me from saying, “So you don’t walk in the grass barefoot anymore?”

“Of course not. It’s the city.”

“But Central Park is there. There’s plenty of grass.”

She turned her nose up as she questioned me with her eyes.

“Don’t tell me you don’t go to the park. Union Square at least?” I’d been a few times, especially when I was young and my mother would drag me on her business trips, telling me I needed to pay attention so I could run the company in her shoes one day. She learned after the third time I snuck off and she found me sitting in the park, my eyes tracing horses in the clouds. You’d think she would have known then what a colossal disappointment I’d be.

“I don’t,” she said, leaning on a stool and lifting the socks. “How am I supposed to fit in these? Your feet are huge.” Color climbed her cheeks, and I chuckled, knowing exactly where her mind had gone.