Page 70 of The Wedding Fake
One shoulder bobbed, and I swallowed. “That’s another annoying thing I do,” I acknowledged.
“It’s not annoying,” he said absently. “I kind of love it, actually.” I inhaled hard, the breath catching in my chest. “I love when you talk about data and documentaries and, Claire, you are exciting. My heart just about thumps out of my chest every time you smile at me.”
A beat passed between us, then my hands were fisting in his sweatshirt, tugging him closer, but the box remained a barrier and he dropped it on the floor of his apartment behind him. My bag was still on my shoulder, but we were both otherwise unencumbered, and Hudson stepped closer, lifting my chin with tender fingers while his forehead dipped to touch mine. I breathed deeply, inhaling him in, and he whispered, “I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you, Claire.”
“Hudson,” I moaned, but the word was swallowed up in his kiss. Slow and tender, his mouth moved over mine, his tongue slipping against the seam of my lips until they opened in answer, and my tongue found his with a soft glide. I wanted it to last forever. I wanted Hudson to last forever. I let the bag slip from my shoulder so I could bury both hands in his hair, pulling him closer even while I tilted his head down to kiss him deeper. Hudson’s arms snaked around me, wrapping tight until there was no distance left between us. He was all I could feel and see and taste and smell. He was everything.
“I missed you,” he murmured as our lips parted and my hands settled one on his jaw and the other on his shoulder.
“Me too,” I replied, then said, “What if we could start over?”
“Start over?” he asked, his brow knitting.
I nodded. “Yeah. Imagine if we’d gotten stuck in that elevator and I hadn’t asked you to come to Nora’s wedding. What if I just knocked on your door and asked your name, instead?”
He hesitated for a moment, then let his arms fall, taking a step back into his apartment. I regretted my words immediately, but he didn’t back away, he simply tilted his body to allow me entry. “I’m Hudson North, apartment 5L.”
I straightened my shoulders. “I’m Claire Davis, apartment 4G, and I think I’m in love with you.”
Hudson grinned, reaching out a hand and pulling me into the apartment. “Excellent pick-up line,” he said and kicked the door closed behind us as our bodies met.
EPILOGUE
TESSA
One week earlier
Wedding of Nora Robin Davis
to
Ethan Alexander Dupree
As they finished dancing, the woman in Grant’s arms blushed an adorable pink, and I wondered what he had said to put the blush on her cheeks. It didn’t matter. This night, however amazing, didn’t matter, and Grant didn’t matter. I hiked up my skirt and began to walk back toward the B&B, figuring I’d take a break from watching Grant for a while. I still had the key to what would be the bridal suite, though right now it remained packed with bridesmaid bags.
Back in the room, I packed up what was left of my belongings, then began tidying other people’s as well. We’d left the room a mess, which would hardly be romantic for the bride and groom. I was just finishing clearing off the table and television stand when I heard a knock. My eyes swung right, towards the door to the hall, but it hadn’t come from there.
Turning around, I found myself face to face with the dividing door to the next room. The room was set aside for my parents, but I would’ve bet anything I owned it wasn’t either of my parents on the other side. Crossing the room quietly, I lay one hand on the door and the other on the handle, hesitating for a single second before I twisted the knob and let the divider swing open between us.
“Oh, it’s you,” I grumbled, unprepared for the swell of emotion I felt seeing him, and covering it quickly with sarcasm. “Did you bring Alicia up? I’ll leave.”
“You know I didn’t,” he replied softly. “I’d dance with you all night, but you don’t want that, I’m willing to bet.”
Of course he would say that. As if it were that easy. I rolled my eyes. “Do you know how many questions we’d get? Besides, how would it look after you’ve been trying to get with Claire all week? People will assume you couldn’t get Claire so you’re settling for me.”
“Do you think that?”
“I’d be stupid not to wonder,” I muttered.
“Tess,” he said, tucking a tendril of hair behind my ear. It was one of the tendrils that was meant to be out, and I pulled the hair out from behind my ear again with a scowl. Unbothered, his fingers trailed until he cupped my chin in one palm. He was warm, and I wanted to lean into his touch, but I resisted. His words were gentle. “I always thought I was supposed to be with a girl like Claire—someone who could say the right things when I never can, someone who’s charming and liked by everyone—but that was never what I wanted. I want a woman like you.”
I barely concealed my laugh, because it was, quite possibly, the worst pick-up line ever uttered by a human. “Did that sound romantic in your head?” I asked.
He was quiet, undoubtedly replaying the words. “I didn’t mean you’re not charming,” he said suddenly. “I mean, you charm the hell out of me, Tess. Of course you’re charming. And people like you.”
“You’re babbling,” I said, chuckling. “I’ve never seen you babble before.”
He inhaled deeply. “That’s because I learned a long time ago not to try to explain myself when I say the wrong thing. I usually just say, ‘I’m sorry. That came out wrong,’ and leave it at that.”