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“I’m glad you like it.” He takes a drink of wine. “So how was work?”
“It was work.” I shrug. “I love the house we’re working on but I’m not as excited about it as I was the beach house. Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever been as excited about any project as I was the beach house.”
“It’s a pretty fantastic house,” he agrees, giving me a knowing look.
A vision of me pressed up against the glass window while he pounded into me from behind flashes through my mind and instantly my face heats.
“It sold today,” I tell him, grabbing a piece of bread from the middle of the table and tearing off a bite before popping it into my mouth. “Emma texted me just a few minutes ago.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“For my bank account, yes. But I really loved that house. I’m sad to see it go.”
“I get that. Probably comes with the job.”
“It’s definitely not the first house I’ve wished I could buy for myself, but it’s the one I wanted the most. I’m sure it won’t be the last though.” I take another long drink of wine. “What about you? How was your day?” I change topics.
“Pretty good. I went to the store, ran a couple errands, caught up with Jerry, and did a Skype interview with an online music broadcast.”
“You did all that and still managed to make all this?” I question.
“This week has felt like a vacation in comparison to the last few months. I forgot how nice it is to just exist and not be stretched so thin I feel like I might snap in half.” He chuckles. “Speaking of, I’m going to have to head back to Nashville next week to take care of a few things.”
“Okay.” I try not to let the disappointment I feel show on my face.
It’s been a week since everything went down with Gage, and while things are almost back to normal, there’s still an uncertainty with us that wasn’t there before. Having him here the last few days has really helped to silence some of the doubts that continue to creep in. I’m worried how I’ll feel once he’s gone, but I know he can’t stay here forever.
“I shouldn’t be gone more than a few days. I was thinking I would head out Sunday after lunch and be back by Friday.”
“You’re planning on going to Sunday lunch again?” I ask.
“Of course I am. This is part of your life and they’re your family. I want to submerse myself into your world as much as I can.”
“Is that so?” I question, smiling at him like a damn idiot.
“You have a problem with that?”
“Not at all.”
“Besides, I think it’s about time I meet this Nana of yours.” His smile widens.
“Oh lord.” I laugh. “She’s likely to grope you under the table.”
“Noted. Don’t sit next to Nana.”
We spend the remainder of dinner talking about everything from our childhoods to some of the things we’d like to do before Hudson leaves on tour. By the end of our meal I feel more relaxed than I have in days and I have no idea why. Maybe it’s the wine or the amazing meal Hudson made, or maybe it’s that I’m finally letting go of everything that happened last week.
After some persuading on my part, Hudson took a glass of wine with him to the balcony while I cleaned up. He was adamant that he should be the one to do the dishes, but I explained to him that in the Claire household one cooks and one cleans. Since he cooked, it was my job to clean up. He wasn’t happy about it but he let me have my way.
Tearing off a piece of paper towel, I dry my hands before tossing it into the trash can. After refilling my third glass of wine, I make my way through the open balcony door. Hudson’s kicked back in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the railing.
His gaze comes to me as I approach, a lazy smile pulling up the sides of his mouth.
“Hey.” I pull up a chair next to him before taking a seat.
“Hey.” He stretches, reaching behind him to retrieve his wine from the table. “You get everything squared away?”
“All clean.” I sip my wine, my gaze on the gulf as I relax back into my seat.
