Page 13 of Tequila Burn


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“We are happy.” I smile, sipping my tea.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Lenny. He seems wonderful but how well do you really know him?”

I don’t confess how much I’ve asked myself that same question over the last few days and instead focus on what I am willing to share.

“I love him, Mom.”

“I know you do. That’s why I’m worried.”

“You don’t need to worry,” I tell her, suddenly wishing Nana was here to save me like she always does when my mom insists on talking about something I really don’t want to talk about.

Nana came down sick last week and even though she’s doing much better, she didn’t want to risk infecting everyone. I think it was just her excuse to play hooky. I swear my Nana acts like she’s still a teenager most days.

“I’m your mom. It’s my job to worry. It’s clear to see you’re crazy about him and if the way he looks at you is any indication as to how he feels, I’d say he’s just as crazy about you. But he’s a musician and a pretty well known one at that. How long before his interest starts to stray? Men can only take so much temptation, especially when it’s thrown in your face day in and day out.”

“Hudson isn’t like that, Mom. He would never do that to me.” Even though there’s really no way I can know that for sure.

“I just want you to be careful. You’re already in so deep after such a short period of time. I worry what this will do to you if it all falls apart.”

“I worry about that too, Mom, but I’m not willing to give up what we have just because I’m scared.”

“God, you are so much like your father. Fearless. Strong. Always willing to go after what you want no matter what.”

“I think I get that from you, not Dad,” I point out, knowing my mom is the strong one and always has been.

Before she can respond, Starr comes bounding out of the house, a large zip lock back hanging from her fingers.

“Here.” Leaning across the table, she drops the bag in front of me before reclaiming her seat.

“What’s this?” I ask, picking it up and turning it around before she can answer. “Starr.” I look up at my sister, then back down at the photograph in front of me, not able to wipe the smile off my face.

It’s of Hudson and me at Starr and Mark’s wedding. We’re on the dance floor. My hands are wrapped around the back of his neck, his arms around my waist. Our foreheads are touching as we look into each other’s eyes. I’m wearing an ear to ear smile, while one side of his mouth is quirked up in a smirk. Total Hudson.

It’s one of those pictures you would swear was staged because it’s that perfect, only it’s completely candid because Hudson and I didn’t pose for any pictures together.

“I came across that when we were ordering our pictures. I knew you’d want to have a copy so I had it printed for you when we had our wedding album made.” My sister grins across the table at me.

“This is perfect, Starr. Seriously, thank you so much.”

“There’s two copies in there. One for you and one for him. I thought maybe he’d like to have something to keep with him.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Anyway, there’s a few others of you two but that was my favorite. I can send you the link to our portfolio and you can order more.”

“Please. I’d like to look at them.”

“No problem. I’ll forward you everything later. That one.” She points to the photo on the table. “Made it into the wedding album. No way I wasn’t going to put Hudson freaking James in there.” Mom chuckles at her unapologetic youngest daughter. “Seriously, I still can’t believe it. My sister dating Hudson James. My freaking sister. Still feels unreal.”

“For me too,” I agree simply because it’s the truth. Only my disbelief has nothing to do with the fact that he’s famous and everything to do with how he makes me feel.

“Where are the guys anyway?” Starr asks like she’s just realized they’re no longer sitting at the table.

“Garage,” Mom answers, pointing in the general vicinity of where the garage is located.

“You let Dad take him to the garage?” Starr gapes at me.

“I figured he’s safe as long as Mark is in there with him.” I shrug.

“Have you forgotten what Dad said to Mark the first time he took him to the garage? I’m pretty sure he pulled out his shot gun and threatened to hunt him down if he ever hurt me.”

“He wouldn’t...” I look at Mom.

“This is your father.” She shrugs, standing as she begins to clear the table.

“I think I’m gonna go peek in on them,” I say, snagging the bag with the pictures in it before taking off toward the garage.

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