“You love me?”
He brushed his lips over mine. “I love you, precious. I’ve always loved you. From the moment I first saw you. I knew before you did, I think.” He tilted my chin to meet his eyes. “But there are things—things in my past—that have kept me from being able to tell you. And now…I have to do this…this thing. Finish this deal. Then, when I get back, we’ll talk.”
“We’ll talk?” I felt like a parrot, repeating his last words, but I was delirious, my mind hazy with happiness. It was all I could manage.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know. And if you still want me, I’ll come home.” He swept a strand of my hair behind my ear, seeming to need to keep touching me as badly as I needed to be touched.
God, he’s such an idiot! “Yes, I want you home. Of course I do. We belong there together. There’s nothing you could say that would make me stop loving you. Nothing. I stick, remember?”
He sighed into me. “Oh, precious. I hope that’s true.”
“It is.” It was the truest thing I knew, like the way the sun knew to rise in the morning, the way a rosebud knew to blossom in the spring. He was in my veins, in the innermost recesses of my heart and soul. I’d love him until I died—through death, even. Through fire, through hell. I’d love him through eternity.
And now I believed he might love me that way too.
I dug my fingers into his jacket and shook him softly. “Say it again.”
“You’re such a spoiled girl.” He circled my nose with his. “And I love…spoiling you.”
I leaned back and smacked his chest.
“And I love you.” He pulled me back toward his mouth. “I love you, I love you. I love you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Hudson and I kissed and cuddled right until the moment he was supposed to leave, neither of us wanting to end our reunion . Hand in hand, we walked out of the building together. He invited me to ride with him in the limo to the airport. I considered it, but Norma was accompanying him, and the look in Hudson’s eyes said he’d have his way with me, no matter who was present.
We did get a chance for a goodbye kiss. “I’ll miss you,” he mumbled against my lips.
If he wasn’t going to say it, I would. “You could ask me to come to L.A.”
“Someone keeps reminding me about a club that she has to run…” He ran a hand down my bare arm, sending chills down my spine. “And I’m going to be swamped. Though I’d love you there, you’d be ignored.”
Briefly I wondered if he had an ulterior reason for not wanting me to go with him, but I didn’t let the thought stay. He was right. I had responsibilities at home. His recognition of that was a big step on his part.
But I pouted all the same.
Hudson kissed my forehead. “Don’t pout. Stay here, go to David’s going away party on Sunday, I’ll be back by Monday.”
“Back to the penthouse?” I wanted his reassurance once more. I could bear a few more days if he’d come home for good.
“Back to our house, yes.” He brushed one more kiss against my lips then got in the limo and rode away.
Though Hudson and I were still apart in the literal sense, the fact that we were a couple again made all the difference in our distance. Finally, we were happy and in love. Happy and in love like we’d never been before. I fluttered around work all shift like I had wings. Gwen introduced herself to me, claiming we’d never met. David, on the other hand, spent the evening being glum. He blamed it on his impending move, but I knew it was me. He’d been hoping Hudson and I were over. Thank god we weren’t.
Even across the miles, Hudson showed me things were different. He had flowers sent to work—a bouquet of wildflowers that looked exactly like the patches we’d seen in the Poconos. He also texted me, something he rarely initiated. I’d received several before I had the chance to look at my phone.
Just landed in L.A.
Did you get my flowers?
I had some sent to my room too, so I could think of you.
Are you avoiding me now?
I laughed at his repeat of what I’d said when he hadn’t responded to my texts. Then I sent: Not avoiding you, working. Thnx for the flowers. Keep texting. I’ll read every one.
His next message came immediately, as though he’d been sitting with his phone in his hand, waiting for it to buzz. If that’s a challenge, I accept.
He continued texting me throughout the evening. I responded when I could between the busy Friday nightclub scene. Our messages varied from romantic to sexual to sweet to funny. We acted like a couple in that slaphappy, I-can’t-get-enough-of-you phase that happened at the beginning of relationships. With our untraditional start, we’d never really experienced that. Then we’d had too many walls. But now they were all down—or nearly all down.