Page 17 of The Wedding Fake
“I definitely have a point,” I muttered.
“We still need to talk about ground rules,” he said. Although I was the one to bring it up hours earlier, this was a conversation I positively dreaded. I would almost certainly regret whatever I agreed to right now. If we decided hands off? I’d picture his hands all over me. Hands on? I’d grow attached, like some helpless baby duck imprinting on the first person she saw. “We want people to believe we’re sleeping together,” he said, and the words gave me pause.
It was a part of the charade I hadn’t even considered, and the impulse to drop my head back and groan was nearly overwhelming.“We can’t sleep together,” I protested, instantly embarrassed by how squeaky my voice came out.
Hudson let out a low chuckle. “Noted. I was not suggesting we sleep together, but it will inform how we behave.”
My face flamed red. Of course he hadn’t been suggesting we sleep together. I wanted to crawl into a hole for a while, or maybe just cover my eyes and block out the world like I used to when I’d been embarrassed as a child. Both seemed like a bad plan while driving seventy, though.
When I didn’t offer any suggestions, Hudson continued. “If we were sleeping together, I would touch you,” he said.
This was it. I was going to spontaneously combust. I fought the urge to fan myself. “Touch me?” These words came out squeakier than the last, and I couldn’t bear to make eye contact with Hudson, so I focused hard on the driving.
Hudson politely ignored all evidence of my mortification, continuing with a casual shrug. “If we were actually sleeping together, I wouldn’t hesitate to touch you every opportunity I got. I’d pull you close when we sat next to each other. I’d run the backs of my fingers down your cheek and push your hair behind your ear. I’d kiss you. But I don’t want to cross any lines, so I want to make sure we talk about it.”
There was a moment when I was lost in imagining each of these scenarios, one more delightful than the next, and I wet my lips, pulling the bottom one between my teeth in an effort to curb the desire to reply, Sign me up! “I think it would be weird if we didn’t touch at all,” I replied judiciously, not sure where I was going with the statement. “Let’s not rule out any of those things,” I continued slowly, “but maybe aim for half as many as you’d do with a real girlfriend.” I glanced at him to see how he felt about this, adding, “It’s okay if my family assumes you’re not that into public displays of affection.”
10
HUDSON
The tick of the signal came on, and Claire guided us off the expressway. Next to me, I could see her blinking rapidly, chewing on her pink lower lip. I’d noticed she chewed on that spot when she was particularly nervous, and I could envision running my thumb over the area. I shouldn’t find enjoyment in getting Claire riled up, but I did. I privately liked any indication, no matter how small, that she was interested in me. It was a dangerous game, though. Even if she might be sexually attracted to me, I couldn’t forget Claire wasn’t interested in anything more. She’d been very clear about that.
And yet, mysteriously, I’d spent the car ride thinking about what would happen if the week did lead to something more. “Did we decide how long we’ve been together?” I asked.
She frowned thoughtfully. “Six weeks?” She looked over for approval. “Do you think that’s enough time to bring you home for my sister’s wedding?”
I shrugged. “Sure. Who cares what anyone thinks? Besides, I’m really there to save you from Grant, right?” She hadn’t talked about Grant today, just like she hadn’t said much about Ethan. Instead, she’d explained a lot about her family and a little more about her job. I’d tried to do the same, but it was hard to delve into my family situation without talking about Lawrence, and I didn’t want to talk about Lawrence.
Claire grimaced in reply, but didn’t look my way as she turned onto a smaller side street. The houses here were nice homes, probably built in the nineties. She turned into a driveway and shifted to look at me seriously as she put the car into park. “Thank you for doing this, Hudson. You barely even know me.”
Funny how that was entirely true, but it didn’t feel true at all. Was it all the time we’d already spent trapped together, or was there something special about Claire that made me feel like I’d known her forever? I wasn’t sure. “Maybe not, but I like you so far,” I answered honestly, shooting her a wink. Claire looked nauseous in reply. I was going to have to impress the hell out of her family so she didn’t regret this instantly.
Claire slipped out of the car and I followed her to the trunk, lifting the two suitcases out for her. She frowned down at the empty trunk, her eyes darting nervously. “This was a terrible idea, Hudson,” she whispered frantically. Panic had settled in her green eyes, dimming their usual glow. “Not you,” she backpedaled, “Just this.”
For a moment, I stood frozen, blinking, not sure how to reassure her, then instinct kicked in, and I set down the suitcases. Inhaling deeply, I cupped her chin between my palms and settled my thumb over her lips, delicately running it over the spot I’d just watched her bite. “I’m not having a panic attack,” she murmured from behind my thumb. “I’m just nervous.”
“I know,” I said, centering the appendage and pressing down lightly, hoping it would stop her protestations. “You trust me?”
She nodded, evidently understanding the thumb was meant to quiet her rather than regulate her breathing this time.
“I’m here with you—one hundred percent. If you need me to do this for real like I did in the elevator—” I nodded down to where my thumb rested on her lips, “then I’ll calm you down. But Claire, I’ve got you.” In this position, the sudden desire to kiss her was intense. Our first—and last—kiss had been interrupted, and I wished I had the time to remedy that. Unfortunately, right now I had neither time nor permission to do as I wished.
Sliding my thumb over her lips once more, I widened my eyes, the question—We good?—clear on my face, and she nodded. “I’m ready,” she replied. She seemed much calmer, so I took her at her word, tucking a wave of brown hair behind her ear as my hands released her face and I picked up the suitcases once more.
With significantly more confidence, Claire strode ahead, leading the way into her parents’ home. “Claire Bear!” a woman exclaimed as we walked through the door, and I couldn’t help but grin. I hadn’t thought to ask Claire what her childhood nickname was, but this discovery was delightful. I could already picture ribbing her when we were alone in our room tonight. “And you must be Hudson,” she said. The woman, an older, plumper version of Claire with caramel eyes, was unmistakably Claire’s mother, and I smiled widely in greeting.
“I am. I take it you’re Claire’s mom?”
“Call me Juliet,” she replied pleasantly. “Leave the suitcases right there. Charles will get them. You two come on in. Tess is in the kitchen.”
“No, Tess is right here.” The woman that entered the foyer bore a strong resemblance to Claire, even with no makeup and her mahogany waves tied in a messy knot atop her head, but while Claire was slender, Tess was curvaceous. She wiped her hands on a towel, as if ready to shake hands, but stopped behind her mother, making no further move to introduce herself.
Undeterred, Claire swung around to her sister, stretching her arms to capture her in a hug. “Tessa,” she squealed. They rocked back and forth while their mother and I looked on.
“Mom had me doing the dishes in there, like I wasn’t going to come out here to see you both,” Tessa said, and her eyes shifted, taking me in critically, top to bottom. It seemed like I’d met muster, but I didn’t know Tess very well yet.
“Come on, come on,” Juliet said, interrupting before any further introductions could occur, “Let’s all go to the kitchen. Nora and your dad will be home soon.” She bustled us into the kitchen, speaking as she pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and gestured for me to sit. “Hudson, tell us about yourself.”