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I’m in love.
It took a trip halfway across the world to accept it, but I’ve only had so much practice erecting those walls around my heart to be a good photojournalist. Only I’m not just a photojournalist right now. I’m a woman capable of feeling love while knowing I’d have to set the emotion aside if I had to do my job. And I did. I had to.
It made me realize what I really wanted after the job was done. And as Hudson scoops me in his arms, his mouth covering mine in a very publicidgaf-what-anyone-saysdisplay of affection, his arms squeezing me against him, it’s all I need to know that I am loved, too. Guess there’s a big difference when you’ve got the whole package.
“Hey, stranger,” I say when he finally pulls away, allowing me to catch my breath.
“Hey, stranger yourself.” Hudson plants another kiss on my lips. “You ready to head home?”
I love the way he says the word.Home.“Hell, yeah, I am.” I pull my phone from my back pocket and switch on the camera. “This one’s for Harlow. She wanted to make sure I got back safely.”
I snap a selfie of both of us before texting it to Harlow with the wordsGonna catch up later. Will be busy for a few hoursbefore putting my phone away again.
To say Hudson and I will be busy is an understatement. We have a lot of catching up to do, starting with a long shower to wash all the travel off me—that and the life I used to know.
My producer wasn’t happy, but there was nothing he could do. I was moving on, and after fourteen years, even he had to admit I deserved it. This time I get to live on my terms with nothing on the agenda but to be happy.
That’s what Hudson wants for me, and our daily text exchanges while I was away said the same thing.
I want you to be happy, he texted me one night.Preferably with me.
I like the sound of that, I texted back.
Hudson
Really?
Arden
The ‘with you’ part is a huge selling point.
Hudson
Say it again.
And I did, this time with a phone call using my international minutes. “Yes, Hudson. I want to be happy with you.”
The silence that followed made me wonder if I should have texted the words instead.
“I love you, Arden.”
As I held my breath, there was no mistaking the words, even on a static-filled digital line. “I love you, too, Hudson.”
“Now get your ass home to me.”
And here I am.
“What are you smiling about?” Hudson asks as he hoists my luggage onto the cart.
“You waited for me.”
He pulls me to him, planting a kiss on my forehead. “We’ve got something that could last. Do you believe that?”
I could lie and say yes, but there’s no need to because I believe him. And I believe in us. “I do.”
The smile on his lips makes the butterflies in my belly flutter to life. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
As Hudson pushes the luggage cart with one hand and holds my hand with the other, I can’t help but feel the realness of his words, especially that last one:home.
