Page 43 of The Wedding Fake
“He isn’t,” I said with a sigh, setting down my knife. “He says he made the thirst trap shit during quarantine, and that’s all.”
“But you don’t believe him?” she asked. I shot Emily a look. “Claire,” Emily said, and when she spoke this time it was soft like when I was little and needed help getting calmed down.
“Emily,” I protested, but my sister kept speaking, her voice soothing.
“Not every guy is like Dan. If you really like Hudson and he says he’s not interested in women online, maybe you need to trust him.”
I was shaking my head before Emily finished talking. “No, Em. Look at him. Everything about Hudson screams red flag.”
Emily looked skeptical. “I don’t know, Claire Bear. As an outsider, Hudson seems really…” she trailed off, and I leaned forward, curious what word could possibly fill that blank. “Smitten,” she said finally.
I opened my mouth to protest, but I didn’t get the opportunity.
“Hello, everyone,” a melodic voice said behind me. It was a woman’s voice, but not one of my sisters, and I turned curiously toward its owner.
“Hi, Alex,” Mom said, and my eyes almost bugged out of my head. The last time I’d seen Grant and Ethan’s little sister, Alex, was before I’d gone to college. At the time, Alex had been a short, thin fourteen-year-old with doe eyes and a mouthful of braces.
“Claire, Emily, you remember Alex, right? Alex, these are Nora’s sisters, Emily and Claire.”
“I remember you,” the girl—woman—said brightly. I was still tongue-tied, looking at this gorgeous twenty-something with her billowing blond hair, perfectly contoured makeup, and crop top that showed her curves to perfection.
“Nice to see you,” I stammered. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yep, good to see you again,” Emily added, continuing to cut her cantaloupe.
“You too,” Alex said brightly, opening the sliding door.
I felt a hot bolt of jealousy as I realized Alex was going to be outside with Hudson. Don’t be ridiculous, I scolded myself. Jealousy is for people with feelings, and you are not developing feelings for Hudson North. I scoffed, a tiny laugh escaping me.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked. I hadn’t realized Mom was suddenly paying attention, and, if I were honest, I was not even remotely okay. I was a woman developing some pretty strong feelings for a man I knew I couldn’t fall for. And right now those feelings included a fair amount of jealousy. “I’m fine. I almost cut myself,” I lied easily.
Emily glanced up only long enough to confirm this was untrue, then she smirked and returned to her dissection of the cantaloupe.
Mom scowled. “Goodness, you’re so distracted. I’m done with the salad. Let me cut the watermelon,” Mom offered. “Go ahead outside.”
“Thanks,” I said, my eyes already trained on the sliding door. I felt badly leaving Emily behind, but not badly enough to stay. After all, I couldn’t see Hudson or Alexandra from this angle, but my imagination could more than adequately fill the empty space. I knew I should be fighting the jealousy—maintaining the distance—but instead I was drawn to the door, my eyes seeking out Hudson greedily.
My first view was of Alexandra’s head tipped back with laughter, and I felt a white-hot bolt of jealousy shoot through my body, shattering all pretenses of neutrality I’d been aiming for. In fairness, Ethan and his father, Richard, were also laughing, but the fact that I didn’t immediately notice them only served to further prove how far gone I was where Hudson was concerned.
Hudson’s eyes found mine as I stepped outside, and I indulged in one moment’s fantasy that he’d been telling the truth when he said he always watched for me. I couldn’t get carried away, though. For all I knew, maybe pretending to care was part of the fake date service.
Richard barreled on with the conversation they’d been having, not giving me much notice, but Hudson kept an eye on me even as he chatted easily. I found no such ease. If casual party conversation was a chore on most days, it was an impossibility now. I wasn’t even hearing the words floating around me as I tried to make sense of the last few weeks.
There was the Hudson from the elevator, the same man who’d been good company through the long ride up to my parents’ house. I had undeniable chemistry with him. Hell, if not for the arrival of the fire department to “rescue” us, I’d have probably found myself in a compromising position that very first night in the elevator, and I doubted I’d regret it.
That chemistry had only grown on the first day we got here. He’d tolerated my family with an enviable grace and saved me from Grant time and again—he’d asked me on a date, for chrissake—and I’d still had every intention of sleeping with him until Emily had barged in with those stupid videos.
That moment, staring at Emily’s phone, had felt so much like reading the email from Dan's mistress—like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
Did it really matter, though? If Hudson was a player, fine—I hadn’t been looking for a husband—all that mattered was that I didn’t get played. I needed to lighten up and enjoy the rest of the week.
“Oh, I’ll always watch, even though they break my heart every season,” Hudson said, and though I was positive he was still talking about sports with Richard, his eyes remained trained on me.
“Can I steal you for a minute?” I asked, and Hudson didn’t hesitate, holding out a hand so I could guide him wherever I wanted. “We’ll be right back,” I promised, my words meant for Richard and Ethan, rather than for Hudson himself. And I certainly didn’t care if Hud never crossed paths with Alexandra again.
21
HUDSON