Page 66 of Paper Horses

“Because most houses do, unless you’re in Florida or Texas, maybe.”

“I live in a hotel, and our house in the Hamptons doesn’t have one,” I snapped.

“Seriously? Why would it not have a basement?”

“How would I know? I didn’t design it.”

“I see the bickering stage hasn’t faded after all,” Sheila mumbled.

Hudson and I stayed locked in a battle of stares, the tension thick between us again, but within it a simmering sexual overtone.

“You sure you two don’t want to head back home? Sort this out through other means?”

Hudson snapped his gaze from mine. “We’re fine. You need help?”

“Nah, just sweeping out some water. Stan’s in the back with the shop vac. I had everything up high, expecting we’d get some damage.”

I pulled my phone out while they talked and texted Gabe.

Liv: Does the house have a basement?

Hudson and Sheila continued to talk while I waited for Gabe’s reply.

Gabe: Yeah. Why?

Liv: How did I not know that?

Gabe: Because you’re oblivious and in your own world.

Liv: Not making me like you any better.

He sent a laughing emoji.

Gabe: Then you’re really going to hate me now.

Liv: How could it get worse?

Gabe: I can’t get the plane back to you until next Monday.

I stared at his words, a sense of elation mixing with dread. I’d have a week with Hudson, but now an expiration date sat over us.

Why so late? I texted, not wanting him to suspect that I wanted to stay.

Gabe: Roads are flooded and, from what the pilot says, it’ll be days before they clear. I need the plane Thursday. Taking Tori and Reid to Salem and Boston. Doesn’t make sense to send it to you until we get back.

Liv: You really suck. You know that?

Gabe: Yup.

“Olivia?”

My head snapped up to find Hudson and Sheila staring at me.

“Did you hear any of that?” he asked.

“No, but we have a basement.”

He shook his head, fighting his grin as I sent Gabe a quick emoji with its tongue sticking out before I tucked my phone away.