Page 19 of The Wedding Fake
“Intimately familiar,” he echoed, and the words sounded sweet and low and sultry from his lips, even though I wasn’t sure that was the intent. I think he was just talking like a regular person and I was beginning to hear innuendo every time he spoke. “She and my dad flipped houses my whole childhood.”
“Like Chip and Joanna,” I exclaimed, glad for a topic that didn’t make me think of peeling off his clothes. Hudson shot me an indulgent smile that suggested he’d heard the comparison more than once, and I blushed.
The blush crept up from my neck to my cheeks and I swore his eyes followed it, until he crossed the distance to me, leaving us only inches apart. “Like Chip and Joanna,” he agreed quietly, sweeping my hair behind one ear. His fingers lingered on my jaw, and my pulse pounded wildly in my ears. There was no imagined innuendo here. “My brother and sister and I grew up running around construction sites,” he explained.
His voice was low and delicious, a breath of air whispered over my skin, but his words surprised me. “You have a brother?” On the drive up he told numerous stories about his little sister, but he’d never once mentioned a brother. Were they estranged? And why? Hudson’s fingers dropped from my face like a lead weight, and it was clear whatever moment we’d been sharing was over.
“He died,” he said stiffly.
I reached forward, but he was already turning, walking back to the closet and adjusting his suit where it hung. “Hudson, I’m so sorry,” I rushed to say, but despite the fact that he stood only feet away, Hudson felt gone from the room. I wished I knew the trick to bring him back, wished for something as simple as holding his lips closed and asking him to breathe through his nose, but he was gone in a way I’d never seen before, and I didn’t have the slightest idea how to rescue our interaction.
For a moment, I just looked at the broad lines of his back, the way his strength tapered down into a trim waist, making the T-shirt he wore tight on the top and loose near the bottom. Then I said, “You don’t have to come to town with me,” although every instinct I had told me I shouldn’t leave him alone with Mom until I got to the bottom of the woman’s strange behavior.
Hudson turned back to face me, clearing his throat to remove any lingering emotion there, but I could see the sadness clinging to his eyes. “Of course I’ll come to town with you,” he replied. He cocked a smile, but it lacked all of the playfulness I’d come to expect from such a gesture, and wasn’t it strange that I felt like I knew Hudson well enough to make that call, even though I didn’t really know him at all.
So I let it go. What other choice did I have? If Hudson wanted to share with me, he would, but I couldn’t forget he wasn’t my real boyfriend. “I’m sorry about my mom,” I said, offering both an apology and a subject-change. It was, after all, an apology I’d meant to make immediately. My mother was a lot of things, but she was never rude, and I wasn’t sure why she’d been so unpleasant since we’d arrived. Perhaps the stress of the wedding was getting to her. “She’s not usually like this. I’ll find out what the deal is, okay?”
Hudson sat down at the edge of the bed and reached out his hand. I set mine in it and he pulled me closer, until I stood between his muscular thighs. I was much shorter than he was, and in my stocking feet my face hovered only inches above his. Still, the position had him looking up at me, and I ran my gaze over his thick fan of dark lashes, the bulge of his jaw, and the dip of one dimple. “Don’t worry, Claire, I’m not going to propose to you.”
My eyes went wide, and I looked left, then right, my eyebrow cocking in what was probably a comical expression. “I—I wasn’t expecting you to. I mean, obviously I?—”
Hudson cut over the stammering, his voice smooth and calm as he continued. “All I mean is I’m not part of your family, and I’m not becoming part of your family, so it doesn’t really matter if your mom approves of me. If you’re good, we’re good.”
It did matter to me if my mother didn’t like him. If for no other reason than because I didn’t like seeing my mother be rude to the men I dated—real or otherwise—but I wasn’t going to argue with such a statement. “I’m good,” I assured him.
He was still holding my hand, and my mind shot back to the kiss he’d laid on my knuckles when we were at the table together. It was part of the act, so I obviously shouldn’t be wishing for him to do it again.
“Then we’re good,” he replied. “Besides,” he continued, his lips tilting in that relaxed, sexy way I’d come to expect, his eyes full of playful humor, “I bet you’ve never once dated someone your parents didn’t approve of.”
Eager to contradict the cocky surety in his statement, I scrolled through all my past boyfriends, but he was right. “I can’t remember anyone,” I admitted.
His smile deepened, and he tugged me a little closer, until my body was nearly flush with his. Still, we didn’t touch, but the temptation to lean in and close the distance loomed large in my thoughts. “Feels good, right?”
I inhaled hard, not sure whether he was asking if his body felt good or ignoring my mother’s wishes felt good or something else altogether—but the answer was a resounding yes. Everything about this moment felt good. So good, and why was I fighting so hard against something so good?
My free hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him closer until all the space between us was gone and I felt each strong muscle pressed to me. His head was tipped back, and I only had to drop my lips a couple inches to meet him, but each inch felt like miles as I slowly tipped down. The hand that held mine tightened, as if the anticipation raged in him with the same ferocity, and my free hand buried itself in his hair as our lips touched, determined to keep him in place for a good long time.
Or a scant millisecond.
The door was flung open with a bang, and I jumped back, disappointment raging through my chest. Fate seemed determined to keep me from those lips, and I didn’t want to inspect that too much.
“Claire Bear!” Nora yelled, ignoring the moment she’d barged in on and flinging herself at me.
I hadn’t looked away from Hudson, but now I turned my irritation on my baby sister. “Nora,” I scolded, catching her and hugging back, even as I continued, “you can’t just barge into our room.”
Letting go, Nora shrugged as if this request was silly, as I blushed a dark pink, wishing even one of my family members would act normal while Hudson was with me.
I thought I’d get to talk to Hudson again, but things became a whirlwind after that. Hudson was back to his usual relaxed self—all sexy grins, but none of the sweet smiles that had given me one moment’s glimpse behind the cocky, self-assured demeanor.
At the door to the bridal boutique, Hudson leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Have fun. Give me a call when you’re done,” he said, and as he turned to walk away I considered calling him back and kissing the hell out of him. I couldn’t do that, though. I wasn’t going to fall for Hudson North.
“He’s hot,” Nora said, standing close enough her shoulder touched mine as we watched him walk down the sidewalk toward the bookstore he planned to visit.
“He is,” I agreed. No question there.
“Where’d you find him?”
The words made anxiety blossom in my chest, as if Nora knew it wasn’t real. But there was no way she knew. “We live in the same building,” I explained, being purposefully vague.