Variation: Chapter 26
Variation: A Novel
Sarahen45: No wonder she went into hiding. I wouldnât show my face, either.
It was a special kind of hell to spend days tangled up in Allie, to finally see what we could be if we gave it a real shot, only to be shut out emotionally in every way possible once we got back to Haven Cove. She hadnât returned a single call or text in two days.
I brought Juniper to the house in the pouring rain after I got off work as planned, only to find Allie sweat drenched in the studio with Kenna.
âGood luck with that one,â Anne muttered, patting me on the shoulder, then returned to an enormous pile of paperwork spread out on the living room coffee table.
âIs this a bad time?â I asked from the studio doorway as Allie walked in a small circle, her hand on her lower back, wincing with every step.
âIâd say itâs the perfect time,â Kenna replied, pushing off the wall. âShe needs to take a break.â
âTaking a break is what got me here,â Allie snapped.
Shit. My eyebrows rose.
âYour sister being a back-stabbingââ Kennaâs words died off as Juniper came in behind me. She glanced from my niece to me. âTry to talk her into resting.â
Somehow I doubted Allie was going to listen to me.
âHey, Aunt Allie.â Juniper walked over to the window and dropped her bag in the same place she always did.
âJuniper . . .â Allieâs mouth opened and shut before she sighed, her shoulders dropping. âI need about five minutes and then weâll get started.â
âYou sure?â Juniperâs face scrunched for a second. âYou seem . . . angry.â
âOh, Iâm furious,â Allie assured her, ripping a towel off the barre and putting it around the back of her neck. âJust not with you. Iâll be back in a couple of minutes and weâll work.â
Juniper nodded, and Allie strode past me without looking my direction, heading into the foyer.
âAunt Eva stole Aunt Allieâs part in the ballet that was created for her,â Juniper whispered as she sat next to her bag.
âI know that, but how do you know that?â Iâd been careful not to say anything to her.
âBecause Eva posted a Seconds yesterday with Aunt Allie saying she couldnât do a bunch of choreography yet that looked . . .â She wrinkled her nose.
âYes?â Shit, was I actually going to have to download that app to know what was going on around here?
âIt looked like Eva hid the camera,â Juniper whispered. âAnd then she posted this morning that Allie wasnât getting better, and sheâd been hired as a principal for next season, so I looked at the website.â She kicked off her sandals and reached into her bag. âNo one jumps from corps to principal. He had to have given it to her just because sheâs Allieâs sister and he felt bad since the ballet was created for her.â
So thatâs how Eva got the part. What a wretch.
âRight. Wait here, kiddo.â I left Juniper in the studio and headed into the living room. âYou okay?â I asked Anne, who sat on the floor in front of the paper-strewn table, Sadie asleep beside her.
âYep, just going through three decades of paperwork, hoping my mother kept anything pertaining to Juniperâs adoption.â She moved a manila envelope to a stack on the floor. âAnd donât ask me why Iâm not in the office. As Iâve told Allie a dozen times, it still feels like our fatherâs. Not like Mom used it, either, since half this crap was stuffed into boxes in her closet.â
âAnd youâre looking for the paperwork because . . .â I lifted my eyebrows at her.
âBecause Juniper wants to know who her father is.â She dropped another folder on the stack with a thud. âAnd I have the Classic completely planned, so no current job to do, not that I got to do the job I went to school for, because after all, I was supposed to be using all my energy to get pregnant.â
And we have another Rousseau sister down. Shit.
âAnd I have one sister out there stealing the other oneâs parts, changing the password to their joint Seconds account so Allie canât take the video down, and wonât pick up the damned phone for me,â Anne continued. âAnd another who couldnât get out of bed for two days, and now is back to putting herself into an early grave chasing something she never really wanted in the first place just because our mother told her to.â She held up a finger. âAnd donât get me started on my mother guarding Linaâs secrets like sheâs the only person who mattered.â
Allie couldnât get out ofâ
âWait.â My hands curled at my sides. âYour mother knew about Juniper?â
âWeâre pretty sure, though itâs not like sheâll talk to us about it. I went to see her again yesterday and got nowhere.â Thunk. Another envelope hit the stack. âSheâs busyââshe wincedââteaching. Canât be bothered with me.â
âThatâs . . . unfortunate.â A pit in my stomach opened, and I breathed through the immediate sensation of panic that belonged to a younger version of myself. I was going to have to set some shit straight with Mrs. Rousseau if I wanted a real chance with Allie.
âSo instead of sitting around completely useless while Kenna rehabs Allieâs ankle, and Eva burns our family to the ground over her ego, Iâm going to make someone happy, which means finding a copy of the adoption paperwork so I can tell Juniper who her biological father is.â Thunk. The files slid, cascading in a paperwork avalanche. âShit!â Anne snapped, throwing a finger at me when I reached for the papers. âDonât try to help me.â
Sadie perked up her ears, then decided sleep was more important.
âHeard.â I reached over to pet the pup, then continued through the living room into the kitchen, looking for Allie. Kenna sat on the counter, scrolling through her phone, taking bites off a carrot stick.
âYeah, itâs a real shit show around here,â she noted without looking up.
âSeems like it.â I peered into the dining room, but there was no trace of Allie. âAllie couldnât get out of bed?â Why the hell was I hearing that from other people?
âIf a video trashing your reputation went viral with over a million hits, spawning countless stitches and commentary from every wannabe ballerina to contract lawyers, critics, and armchair experts whoâve never met you or even watched ballet before, would you feel like facing the world?â
Fuck. âNo one told me.â Dinner curdled in my stomach. âShe shut the door in my face after we got back from camping. Why didnât she return any of my calls? Better yet, why didnât either of you reach out? I would have been here.â
âAnne and I were with her.â Kenna peered up at me over her phone. âShe declined further support, and we honored her wishes.â
âShe didnât want me here,â I said quietly. Not like I didnât already know that from the declined calls and unread texts, but hearing it out loud felt like having my heart dragged out and scraped across broken glass.
âSheâs a little prickly today, just to warn you.â Kenna sat her phone down on the counter. âVasily tried to call her twice the day you two didnât come home, and now he wonât take her calls.â
Shit. This was because of me. I leaned against the counter on the opposite side of the sink as the guilt sank in, knotting in my throat. No wonder she didnât want to speak to me. If Iâd just brought her home as planned, this might not have happened. So much for balance.
âItâs not his fault.â Allie walked in from the foyer in a clean set of workout gear, her face a perfect mask of control. Fuck me, sheâd thrown her walls right back up. âItâs not your fault,â she repeated in my direction, but didnât make eye contact as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the lemonade.
Yeah, lemonade meant she was stressed as hell.
She slammed the pitcher on the island. âItâs not your fault that I didnât stay in service. Not your fault that I decided to spend an extra day with you. Not your fault that I taught Eva the very choreography she no doubt went back and used against me.â
Those first two stung like a slap, but I held my ground when Allie walked my way. âIâm still sorry that I played any role in it.â
âIt wasnât you. It was all me. Iâm a big girl who made choices and now has to deal with the repercussions of those choices.â She tilted her head to the side. âI need a glass.â
I moved four inches to the left so the door would clear my shoulder, and Allie arched an eyebrow, then yanked open the cabinet, her arm brushing against mine to reach the glass.
To my surprise, she brought back two glasses, then went back to the island to pour the lemonade.
Maybe she really wasnât pissed at me. My throat loosened.
That relief lasted all of thirty seconds, after which she gave the second glass to Kenna, who took it with a mouthed thank-you as she swiped to answer her phone. âWhy, Isaac Burdan, were your ears burning?â She tapped a button on the screen and set the phone on the counter.
The choreographer.
âGood to hear your voice as well, Dr. Lowell,â Isaac said through the speaker, and Allie tensed. âIâm sorry to bother you, but it seems Alessandra wonât take my calls.â
At least I wasnât the only one.
âHmm.â Kenna took a sip of the lemonade. âI wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that you handed over the ballet you choreographed for her to Eva? Just a hunch.â
Allie folded her arms.
âI had nothing to do with it, I swear. You have to tell her.â His voice pitched high. âVasily showed me some footage of Alessandra teaching Eva, noted that she wasnât going to be back in time to perform, and told me heâd made the decision to cast Eva in the role. I think his exact words were âraise up the newest MBC star.ââ
âThis is bullshit,â Allie snapped.
âAlessandra? Oh, darling. Iâm so very sorry this has happened. You know I created that role for you and you alone. Itâs the product of our work, our passionââ
Passion? Jealousy burned in my gut, but I managed not to tell the fucker to keep his pet names to himself because she wasnât his anymore. Not that she was exactly mine, either, since we hadnât really hashed out what was happening between us.
âCut the crap, Isaac. You were already teaching the choreography to Charlotte, no doubt hoping to rework a little with her passion.â Allie shook her head and pivoted on the other side of Kenna, facing my direction. Icy rage shone in her eyes as she glared at the phone.
âAnger sounds . . . rather delicious on you, darling. You really should let that temper flare a little more often.â He sighed loud enough to be heard through the phone when Allie didnât respond. âI was fucking Charlotte, no big deal. Working with her was only a by-product of that.â
âAnd are you still?â Allie questioned.
âFucking Charlotte? Yes, but Iâll stop if youâre saying youâd like to resume ourââ
I saw red.
âWorking with her, Isaac. Are you working with her?â She rubbed the bridge of her nose. âI donât care who you sleep with anymore, nor will I ever care again.â
He scoffed. âItâs that guy you brought to the gala, isnât it?â
I stiffened, and Allieâs gaze shot to mine.
âHave to say Iâm slightly surprised,â Isaac continued. âHeâs not really your type. So handsy in public when you prefer discretion. Plus you like your men lean, built for endurance instead of heavy lifting, if you will. Iâll be here when you get bored.â
Allieâs face flushed and Kennaâs eyebrows rose.
Had he been here, he would have learned the definition of fuck around and find out.
âIsaac, I wish you the best of luck with Eva. We both know sheâll slaughter that variation; youâll have to take everything down a notch in difficulty for her to have a prayer of making it halfway through.â Allieâs hand hovered over the screen. âOh, and as for Hudson, heâs built like a Greek god and fucks like one, too, so Iâm all taken care of.â She tapped the phone and the call ended.
I gripped the edge of the counter to keep from reaching for her, even damn well knowing sheâd said it just to piss off Isaac.
Kennaâs gaze swung between Allie and me. âAnd on that note, Iâll be in the studio.â She hopped off the counter and threw me a wave. âIâll be rooting for you.â
I nodded in thanks, and Allie made her way back to my end of the island, then put the lemonade back in the refrigerator. âI shouldnât have said that to him.â
âDidnât bother me.â A corner of my mouth lifted, but I wiped the smirk off my face before she turned to face me. âBothers me that you arenât returning my calls either.â
She flinched. âDid you need to talk about Juniper?â
âNo.â I folded my arms. âAnd you know it.â
âThen thereâs really no reason to call.â She shrugged. âWhat happened out there was just two consensual adults working off some pent-up tension. Thatâs it.â
âAnd I thought we werenât going to lie to each other.â Her words bounced right off me because I knew exactly what she was doing. I just wasnât going to let her.
âIt meant nothing.â Her apathetic mask was so well constructed Iâd almost believe her if it wasnât for the turmoil in her eyes.
âLie.â I took two steps, putting us toe to toe. Her pupils dilated and her breath quickened. âBack row, center seat for eleven years isnât nothing.â
She tilted her chin. âIt has to be. You and me . . . we donât fit in each otherâs worlds, Hudson. Not outside this tiny little town neither you nor I actually belong in. Do you see what happened when I took a few days off? I lost the role of my life. I should have been here working. Thatâs what happens when I try to balance my career with anything else, anyone else who isnât in the industry. Weââshe gestured between usââcanât be a thing, and I donât have time to argue about it with you.â
My stomach clenched. And back to square one. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out to check the screen. It was the station. âHold that very wrong thought,â I said to Allie, then answered the call. âEllis.â
âHey, Chiefââ
âNot yet.â I cut off that shit quick. I wasnât going to pin for at least a few months. âWhatâs up?â
âIâm sorry to call you, Petty Officer First Class Ellis, I know you just clocked out, but weâve got two birds out already and a distress call coming in.â
Fuck. This day just kept getting better.
âIâll be there in fifteen minutes.â I hung up and shoved the phone back into the pocket of my uniform. âLooks like I donât have time to argue with you about it either. Can you take Juniper home when youâre done for the day?â
âWhy?â Her brow knit with concern, which only served to frustrate the shit out of me after sheâd spewed all that shit about us meaning nothing.
âBecause a distress call just came in and I have to go. Can you take her home, or not?â
She blinked, then leaned sideways to glance past me at the window. âYou canât go out in this. Weâre in the middle of a storm.â
âYes, love, and this is what happens during every storm.â And time was ticking.
Her eyes widened. âYouâre going . . .â
âYes.â I nodded. âCan you get Juniper home? If not, Iâll call Gavin on my way in and ask him to swing by. Allie, I have to go, now.â
âIâll take her home,â she said softly, chunks of her armor falling away. âHudsonââ
âThank you. Please tell her I had to run, but donât be specific. She worries.â I ignored the urge to kiss her and walked away. âIâll call you tomorrow. Naturally itâs up to you if you want to answer.â
A little before midnight, I pulled my truck into my garage, then cursed my past self for renting a place where I had to walk through the rain to get in my front door.
It wouldnât be the first time Iâd been soaked to the bone tonight.
Exhausted, aching, and still more than a little frustrated with the sharp-tongued ballerina I was irrevocably in love with, I walked across the little patch of grass that separated my house from the garage and headed up the steps to the front porch, only raising my head once I was clear of the rain. The sight of Allie stopped me dead in my tracks. She sat barefoot on my porch swing, her arms wrapped around her legging-covered knees, her ballet flats lying discarded next to a giant familiar bowl of water beneath her.
âYouâre all right?â She lifted her chin from her knees and studied me from head to toe, worry creasing her forehead.
Fuck, if that look didnât drain some of the frustration right out of me. âHow long have you been out here?â
âA little over an hour, maybe. I worried for a while I had the wrong house.â
âRight house.â I crossed the porch and picked up the bowl of water, wincing slightly at the pain in my ribs, then emptied the contents over the railing. Anneâs Mercedes was parked on the opposite side of the street.
âI was icing my feet,â Allie muttered.
âIâve been around you long enough to recognize the foot-icing bowl. And it takes a hell of a lot longer than an hour to melt that much ice.â I put the bowl on the swing next to her, and she unfolded her legs. I was too tired to fight with her, but I didnât want her to go either.
She tugged the edges of her cardigan closer. âFine, it was a couple of hours.â
My shoulders dropped. She had to be frozen. âCome inside and get warm.â I unlocked the front door, then held it open as she picked up her shoes and walked in.
She looked left, into the living room, and right, toward my office, then glanced up the steep stairs to the second floor. âI like the original woodwork.â
âIâd say thanks, but Iâm just renting it.â I shut the door, and to my surprise, she set her shoes down on the hardwood and walked straight into my office.
âBecause you donât plan to stay,â she said over her shoulder, flipping on the light switch.
My stomach clenched as I took off my hat and hung it on the coatrack, my jacket quickly following, and I battled the illogical feeling that I was about to be tested. Good thing I kept the place picked up.
âI was only supposed to be here long enough to help Caroline get on her feet. Itâs taking a little longer than I planned.â I followed her in, watching her expression shift to curiosity as she tucked her hair behind her ears and looked over the bookcases, stopping to examine the titles, pausing when she came across a framed photo.
âSavannah,â I explained when she looked closer at one of Juniper and me on the beach when she was five. âIt was my second duty station. I was there when Sean died, then begged everyone I knew for a compassionate reassignment.â
âDid you like it there?â She moved along, her gaze skimming across a handful of awards Iâd wedged between books in their padded folders.
âYeah. I liked living somewhere else, seeing new places, meeting new peopleâthat kind of thing.â I would have killed to know what she was thinking. Her being here was an admission that she had real feelings for me, but that didnât mean sheâd let herself give in to them, not when she felt Iâd jeopardized her career.
Which, in her defense . . . I unknowingly had.
âAnd these?â She tugged a few of the awards free.
âTheyâre handed out when you save people, but theyâre just pieces of paper.â I shrugged.
âBravery and valor,â she read off one, then closed the folder and put it back with the others. âSounds like you.â Her gaze shifted to the framed map of Alaska above my desk. âYou never asked for Sitka?â
âTwice,â I answered, fatigue settling into my bones. âBut I wasnât highly ranked, and my wants didnât match the needs of the Coast Guard.â
âAnd now that you have the opportunity to ask again, youâre going to request to stay here.â She picked up a framed piece of Juniperâs artwork off my desk. âFor her.â
âFor the same reason you wouldnât get in the boat before Eva.â We may have been polar opposites, but we were eerily similar in one respect: our family came first, which was exactly why this thing between us had about a zero percent chance of lasting past August.
âIâm second-guessing that choice lately.â She pivoted and walked between my desk and the worn leather armchair, passing right by me and walking into the living room. âDo you ever second-guess coming back?â
âNo.â I followed, my right side throbbing as her gaze swept over the space, no doubt cataloging everything, from the art Iâd picked up during a drunken trip to Miami with Beachman to the potted plant Iâd somehow managed to keep alive in the corner.
âDo you ever think about leaving?â She ran her fingers over the soft throw blanket draped over the armchair and cracked a yawn.
âEvery day.â But I wanted her with me, spending weekends curled beside me on the sofa, her laughter filling these rooms. I wanted to bicker about everything and nothing, and then make up and decide what weâd make for dinner. I wanted the mundane interactions of a relationship. An ache of longing sliced between my ribs and cut straight into my heart. Even if I convinced her that we could make this work long term, eventually our past would have to be dealt with. Sheâd never forgive me for what Iâd done. It was only a matter of time before it tore us apart.
âMaybe you should go.â She turned her attention to the photographs on the gallery wall, and yawned again.
I raked my hands through my hair. âAllie, I love that youâre finally here, but Iâm exhausted from fighting thirty-foot seas and a really panicked family who thought I was a ladder they needed to climb, and my ribs are killing meââ
âWhat happened to your ribs?â Her face whipped toward mine and her eyes flared.
âNothing a couple nights of good sleep isnât going to take care of.â
âLet me see.â She strode over and tugged my top up, then yanked my T-shirt free, and I lifted my arm because I didnât have the energy to argue with her . . . and I loved her hands.
She inhaled sharply. âHudson.â
âItâs fine. Just a bad bruise.â Iâd had way worse. âPeople do irrational things when theyâre scared.â
Her hand hovered over the foot-size contusion, but she didnât touch it. âIâm sorry.â
âYou didnât do it.â
âThatâs not what I meant.â She dropped my clothes back into place. âI owe you an apology. There are very few people in my life I trust with . . . me, but Iâve never guarded myself against my sisters. And when Eva crawled over my corpse to get ahead, I took my anger out on you, and I shouldnât have. Iâm sorry.â She dragged her gaze back to mine.
âApology accepted.â
Her eyebrows rose. âThat easy?â
âThat easy.â I nodded. âAnd Iâm sorry I kept you out of the studio.â
âThat wasnât your fault. I wanted to stay with you.â She huffed a frustrated sigh. âI always want to stay with you. Thatâs the problem.â
âThen letâs go to bed.â I held my hand out.
She drew back slightly. âI didnât come over for sex, Hudson.â
âI figured.â A smile tugged at my lips. âIâm tired. Youâre tired. And unless you feel like going out in that storm again, you may as well come to bed so we can both get some sleep.â I lifted my brows when she furrowed hers. âYou want to stay with me? Then stay.â
âJust for the night?â she clarified.
âFor as long as you want. I told you Iâd take you any way I could get you, even one night at a time.â I crooked my fingers, well aware that I was treading on exceptionally thin ice with an exceptionally skittish woman.
âThat sounds good.â She nodded slowly.
Thank fuck. I turned the lights out, checked the doors and windows, then took her up the creaking stairs, past the guest room where Juniper slept occasionally, and into my bedroom.
She took in the space, with its dark furniture and hunter green accents. âSometimes I forget how neat you are. Nothingâs out of place.â
âMore efficient that way. Come on.â I took her into the bathroom, then pulled out a new toothbrush from the cabinet.
âYou keep toothbrushes for your overnight guests?â She glared at the bristles.
âI keep toothbrushes stocked the same way I keep everything else.â I opened the cabinet and showed her the organized rows of supplies before shutting it. âThereâs no one else. You know that. Stop looking for a reason to bolt.â
She sighed, and we did the domestic things that couples take for granted, like sharing a sink and scooting past each other in the doorway.
Then I completely forgot how tired I was when she walked out of the bathroom in my T-shirt. My body temp rose by at least a full degree. Yeah, I definitely had a thing for seeing her in my clothes.
She slid under the covers, then lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. âI donât suppose you have a phone charger?â
I carefully shifted to appease my pissed-off ribs, opened my nightstand drawer, and pulled out my spare, then handed it over.
âThank you.â She plugged it in and set her phone on the nightstand, then went back to staring at the ceiling. âYou really missed your calling as a Boy Scout.â
âAlways prepared.â
She drummed her fingers on top of the comforter.
âFor fuckâs sake, Allie, come here.â I rolled toward her on my unbruised side, wrapped my arm over her ribs, then tugged her across the bed.
She promptly snuggled back against me, stole half my pillow, and pushed her incredible ass right against my dick as she got comfortable.
âWhat do you want to do about Eva?â I asked, resting my hand on her bare hip.
âBesides throttle her?â She sighed. âOnce itâs announced, it takes an act of God to change Vasilyâs mind. Iâm not sure thereâs anything to do besides never speak to her again, which also is just . . . unconscionable.â
âYeah, I donât know if I could cut Gavin or Caroline off either.â I stroked her skin absentmindedly. âYou could leave the Company.â
âYou could leave the Coast Guard,â she retorted.
âPoint taken.â I fought a smile. âBut I move duty stations and still do the same thing. You can dance anywhere in the world. Are you still under contract?â
âFor another month,â she answered. âAugust fifteenth.â
âDay of the Classic.â It was coming up quickly.
She nodded. âI sat in the dark for two days, trying to decide if I should change my name and move to another country, or metaphorically beat the shit out of my sister.â
âAnd what did you decide?â
âI want my role back.â She shifted.
âThen be an act of God.â I groaned. âAnd stop wiggling your ass or all my honorable intentions will disappear.â
âAs I recall, you did some very dishonorable things to me a few days ago.â
âThatâs not helping.â I kissed the top of her head, burying my nose in her hair and breathing in the unique floral scent that had haunted me for over a decade. âGo to sleep.â
âYou should put Sitka at the top of your list.â
âOne, Caroline isnât ready for me to go. Two, it puts me on the other side of the whole fucking country from the only person Iâd like to be close to, whoâin case you missed itâis you. And three, go to sleep.â I draped my arm over her waist.
She tensed for a second, then burrowed closer, which I didnât mind in the least. âI didnât mean it. When I said we meant nothing, I didnât mean it. All I could think for those hours was that you were out in that storm and Iâd . . .â
âI know. I knew it when you said it.â I kissed the spot behind her ear. âAnd I have a hundred-percent return rate when it comes to storms.â
She turned in my arms and looked at me. âI donât like it when people get too close,â she whispered.
âAlso something I know.â I stroked her hip. âIn fact, Iâve known that for about eleven years. And while itâs probably one of your most frustrating qualities, I have to admit you keep it interesting. And in your defense, you warned me from the get-go.â Guess we werenât sleeping, but I couldnât bring myself to care, not when I finally had her in my bed. âBut you could do us both a favor and stop fighting it.â
Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, and she struggled for a few seconds. âWould you really take me any way you can get me?â
I was instantly, fully awake. âYes.â
âWhat if thereâs a way for this to be real but . . . safe.â She tucked her hands against my chest.
Holy shit. Was this actually happening?
âItâs already real. What do you need to feel safe?â I grazed my hand up her back.
She swallowed hard. âIt has to be easy. Simple. No one gets hurt.â
âOkay.â I was already going to hurt, but as long as she escaped unscathed, Iâd give her whatever she wanted. âNo mess,â I guessed.
She nodded. âEverything in my life is in upheaval, and I need you not to be.â She brought her hands up beneath her chin. âAnd I know thatâs not fairââ
âAny way I can get you,â I reminded her, and guilt started gnawing on the edges of my stomach. There was so much history between us.
âEven if itâs only until I go back to New York?â She tensed.
Fuck. âYou only want this to last for five weeks?â But hadnât that always been my plan? To use the summer to bring some life back into her eyes? Then why did it feel like having a section of my heart carved out?
âI can only have this for five weeks,â she clarified. âI have to be fully focused once I go back. Iâll be fighting for my place in the Company, andââ
Make it easy for her.
âI get it.â I brushed her hair back from her face, and the guilt bit harder. This was a taste of everything Iâd ever wanted, and talking about the past would risk everything, but I had to. I couldnât tell her this was real and not be real. âWe should talk about the way I left you, and if you donât forgive meââ
âDonât.â She shook her head quickly and cupped the side of my face. âI forgave you the second you told me you were at the performance. We were kids and weâve both made mistakes, Hudson.â
âNot like me.â I gripped her hip, and she pressed her fingers to my mouth. I ceased breathing. She couldnât forgive me, not that painlessly.
âSimple and easy, remember?â she whispered. âItâs all I can handle right now. Letâs just agree that now is all that matters. The past is over, and we canât have a future. I wonât give up New York, and you wonât leave your family if you can help it, and if you canât, God knows where youâll be assigned.â She tried to smile and failed. âSo, unless you can think of something that prevents you from being mine for the next five weeks, please donât make me ask again. This is the only chance weâll get, and I want it.â Her fingers slipped to my chin. âAs long as you do.â
The panic filling her eyes stole my words and my best intentions. Sheâd never been more vulnerable with me, even when we were teenagers. If I misstepped now, sheâd turn those walls into a fortress.
âHudson?â She drew back.
âFive weeks isnât long enough.â My voice roughened. If this was longer than five weeks, if we were going the distance, I would have begged her to listen to me grovel. But digging up our past would bring a storm she couldnât weather, not now, not when she was about to wage war to get her role back. But after, when this was all over, she needed to hear me out. âBut Iâll take it.â
She beamed, then leaned in and brushed a kiss over my lips. âGood. Now we can sleep.â She turned in my arms and snuggled back against me.
I had five weeks to make her the happiest I could, and I wasnât going to fuck it up. Whatever she needed, Iâd give her.
Our breathing evened out, and I was almost asleep when I heard her say, âYour dreams matter, too, Hudson.â
The only dream I cared about was the one I was currently living, where I got to fall asleep next to her. It was the dream I blinked out of at five a.m. as Allieâs phone rang.
She rolled out of my arms, slapped the top of the nightstand a few times, then finally answered the damn thing. âYouâd better be dead, Anne. Yes, Iâm at Hudsonâs. Because Iâm a grown woman who can sleep wherever and with whomever she chooses.â
âAs long as itâs me.â I pulled her back against me. I wasnât due in until 0900 after last nightâs mission, which meant I had enough time to watch Allie come a couple of times and catch a couple more hours of shut-eye. Perfect morning.
âWhat do you mean, you havenât slept?â Allie tensed. âYou what? Youâre kidding. No, that doesnât make sense. No way itâs him.â She sat up and my arm fell away. âNo, Iâll call him in a few hours. Because not everyone is up at five!â Her spine stiffened. âNo, you did not. You didnât tell him why? Fine. Iâll be home by nine.â She hung up the phone and slid it back onto the nightstand.
âFeel like sharing?â I cracked an eye open.
She looked at me with wide eyes. âAnne found Juniperâs original birth certificate.â