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I blink and look up at Hudson, who is holding a glass of water out to me. I take it with a shaking hand and offer him a small smile.
“Thank you.”
Hudson sits opposite me, elbows on his knees, his hands hanging between his thick thighs. He looks different here, relaxed in a way I’ve never seen.
“What’s going on, Aud?”
“My father has cancer.” Just saying the words makes me want to vomit all over the floor.
He moves to reach for me and then stops himself, seemingly not sure what to do. We’re both a little lost in how to act.
“I’m so sorry. What can I do?”
That right there is the man I fell in love with. He doesn’t try and console me or ask me a hundred questions that I can’t face right now. He just asks what he can do to help me. I hate that he can still be that man and the man who broke me. It makes hating him so much harder.
I draw myself up, placing the glass on the side table, and try and channel my inner badass. I can’t show him weakness even if he does have the upper hand in this situation. His lips twitch as if he can see the shift in me, and desire buzzes in the air around us.
“You can stay married to me.”
His eyebrow quirks, giving him a rakish appearance, but I can handle this man easier than the kind one who let me fall apart in his arms.
“And how does that work exactly?”
“My father has six months to a year to live. We stay married and trot out a few appearances for my parents to keep them happy.”
“And why would you marrying me in Vegas have made them happy?”
I tuck my hands beneath my bag so he doesn’t see the slight tremor. “My father is old-fashioned in some ways and I’m his baby girl. He thinks having a man beside me will make his passing easier for me.”
“I see.”
I’m not sure he does. How could he possibly understand?
“And why would he think the man who broke his daughter’s heart in college is that man?”
I suck in a sharp breath at his words. This is the closest we’ve come to talking about what happened and it catches me by surprise. I focus on my breathing and look up to see Hudson watching me, an expression I can’t read on his handsome face.
“He doesn’t know about college.”
“So, you propose we remain married and live a lie until he passes and then get a quiet divorce?”
“Yes.”
“And what do I get out of this?”
I knew he couldn’t do it just to be a good human being. Somehow that makes it easier. The thought of it being transactional is better than owing this man anything. “What is it you want?”
Hudson stands and walks to the fireplace, his broad back to me. He’s a fine specimen, with broad shoulders, narrow hips, and, God, the rest of him is perfect too. The image of him naked and wet from this morning is etched on my eyelids. The fact I can remember every moment that has passed between us even after all these years should be an indication of how dangerous this is to my mental health. He could eviscerate me, but if it makes my father’s final months happy then I’ll walk through the fires of hell for him.
Hudson spins around and pins me with his gaze. “I want weekly dates. I want you to get to know me, to let me show you who I am now, without the sins of my past standing between us like a mating chasm.”
I freeze. What he’s asking, on the face of it, seems easy, but spending time with him is dangerous. He reeled me in before, with his charisma and charm, and I fell so hard it took me years to even get back up. Yet, I’m not the same woman anymore. I’m stronger, harder, colder and I’ll remain so. If he thinks he can win me over with a few dates, he’s sadly mistaken. “Fine.”
“And nobody can know this is a lie. Not Lincoln. Not anyone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We can’t keep a secret like that.”
Hudson smirks and shoves a hand in the pocket of his faded jeans, and I wonder if I’ll even get out of here without tackling him to the ground and demanding he fuck me. I might hate him, but the effect he has on my body is undeniable.
