I leave early for the cabin, and because it’s a little warmer today, some fog has settled in, and it’s harder to find, but I manage. When I get in, I slip off my boots, take off my jacket, and sit on the couch before pulling out my laptop, ready to get as many words in as I can.
The email from my editor is sitting unanswered until I see how much I can get done today. My mom is going to pick up Adley from school even though it’s Hudson’s day because he has to work.
I sit on the couch, the same side I’ve sat on every day since the words started flowing and open my manuscript. And just like every other time, the words are on the tips of my fingers, waiting for me to type them.
Bea was shaken. The hot bartender understood sign language. The bar had been way too loud for her talk, not that she enjoyed using her voice much anyway, so it was perfect.
And then, people were leaving and the bar had become emptier. Nia came up and asked if Bea wanted Trek to drive her home, but Bea politely shook her head. She’d figure something out—get an Uber or something. But she wasn’t going to sit in the back seat while Nia and Trek wanted to be alone.
Nia glanced at the bartender and turned so only Bea could see her lips. “He’s a cutie. Go home with him.”
Although he had been giving Bea a lot of attention and a few free drinks, she thought he was just being nice because she was sitting alone in a bar filled with groups. This wasn’t a townie bar where people just came in by themselves for a drink. It was a club where people, especially women, came in groups.
Bea pulled Nia down so she could say into her ear, “That’s not how it works. Go have fun with the drummer.”
“Hopefully he knows how to use his stick.” She laughed and kissed Bea on the cheek.
Bea’s eyes followed Nia as she hooked her arm through Trek’s, and they left the bar.
The bartender, Pete, came over and wiped down the spot where two guys had spilled a beer. “She’s going to regret that decision.”
Bea shrugged. Nia rarely regretted anything. She had the motto that you only lived life once, so you might as well do what you want, when you want. Bea admired Nia to a certain extent. Although when Bea had left her small hometown in Idaho, all she’d wanted to do was travel and see the world. She wasn’t as carefree as Nia.
She lifted her hands and signed, She won’t. He might.
Pete laughed, and his eyes sparkled. She was really starting to like this guy. He leaned over the bar, arms crossed and resting on the bar top, and all she could do was focus on his lips. Which was a great excuse to stare at them since she was always reading lips.
“I’m off in five, let me give you a ride.”
What did she really know about this guy? Her mom would kill her if she found out Bea had gotten in the car with some stranger. All those crime stories Bea watched on TV played out in her head as she debated what to do.
Pete reached into his back pocket and placed his license in front of her on the bar. Take a picture, send it to whoever you want. Tell them I’m driving you home. If you go missing, they’ll be able to track me down.
How do I know this is even you? Bea raised her eyebrows.
You don’t, but…he dropped his wallet in front of her. Go ahead.
Bea shook her head. She wasn’t one to pry into someone else’s life. Pete had been nice to her all night which she took as pity, but maybe he was interested in her.
Look through it. He pushed his wallet closer to her.
The brown leather was worn along the edges, and Bea opened the fold, unsure if she should or not, but she knew it would put her mind at ease.
Inside were two credit cards with the same name as the license. There was a voter’s registration card, which made her laugh. When Pete leaned in to see, she pulled it out. He just didn’t seem the type to keep up with politics. She didn’t bother to look at the cash he had—that would be another level of nosy. Satisfied, she shut the wallet and slid it over to him.
That’s it? I offer you my entire life, and you barely look?
Bea contemplated her reply carefully, not wanting to be too forward, but she really liked him and wanted something to happen between them. I’d rather get to know you by talking with you some more rather than finding out that way.
He smiled, and even though she was sitting, her knees felt weak. A ride home then?
She looked up through her dark eyelashes, bit her lip, and nodded.
He went over to the other bartender and told him something, then grabbed his coat from a cubby behind the bar. Bea thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest as Pete walked the length of space behind the bar toward her, his smile permanently in place as if he felt lucky that she’d accepted his ride home.
He lifted the bar top and walked through the opening. She slid off her stool and realized how short she was compared to him once he was closer.
“Ready?” he said, and she nodded. He held his hand out, and she walked in front of him toward the door.
Once outside, the cold air whipped around them. The only light came from the light poles in the parking lot. Darkness surrounded them in the small mountain town. He led her over to an SUV that had seen better days. It was rusty along the edges, and there were stickers on the back about snowboarding and different brands that made snowboarding equipment. He had a rack on top she guessed usually held his boards.
He opened the door, and she slid inside, surprised at how clean it was. She’d half expected to find empty energy drink cans and fast-food bags everywhere, but other than salt damage on the floor mats, it was spotless. It even smelled nice, as if he knew this would happen and had just come from the car wash.
He rounded the SUV and climbed in, then started the car, pointing the heating vents in her direction. “I don’t want to take you home.”
Oh shit, you are going to kill me. Let me call my mom first.
He chuckled, and those eyes sparkled again. “I meant more along the lines of do you want to get something to eat?”
She felt her cheeks warm. He was just as interested as her and that brought on the flutters in her stomach. Sure.
He nodded, and before she realized it, they were pulling away from the bar. She had a really good feeling about this guy and hoped her gut was leading her in the right direction. But when she peeked at his profile, she didn’t care much even if it was the wrong one. She wanted something to happen tonight, and she’d take it for herself if she had to.
By the time I get home, it’s past dinner. My stomach growls as I pull into the driveway and into my garage. I have nothing much to eat at my place because I’m planning on going shopping before I pick up Adley tomorrow. Although I’m half tempted to ask my mom to pick her up again. This story is consuming me in the best way, and I need to finish it.
Hudson’s back door opens. “Hey.”
I groan because if this has to do with Adley not liking Theresa, I don’t feel like dealing with it. At least until after this book is done.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Where were you?”
I’m not sure when he started caring so much where I was. “Working.”
“Are you going to Brewed Awakenings or something now?” He lifts his wrist as if to check the time on his watch.
“I’m just…” I’ve never kept a secret from him, and I debate telling him. But I like having this place to myself, and I don’t want to ruin my mojo. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Were you with Matt?”
I blink, surprised by his question or why he thinks I’d keep that from him. “No. Why?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”
I don’t say anything because he’s right. I’m not asking him intimate details about him and Theresa.
“Your mom made spaghetti. Want some?”
My stomach clenches at the offer, making the decision for me. I walk over, thinking I’ll just take some to go, but when I walk into his kitchen, I see that won’t be the case. He has two plates out and a fresh batch of garlic bread on the table.
“Your mom left a loaf to make for you,” he says, after seeing my quizzical look at what appears like a setup for a date.
“You didn’t eat with Adley, how come? Are you trying to butter me up?”
He laughs. “No, why?”
I tilt my head. “What is all this, Hudson?”
“I do this all the time when you have a tight deadline.” He scoops two big helpings of spaghetti onto the plates.
He definitely wants something.
“No, you keep Adley a little more over at your place and leave food on my counter for me to eat when I take a break. This”—I put my hand out—“is not what usually happens. The last time you did something like this was when you wanted to start Adley on the snowboard.”
He bites his lip to keep him from smiling because he knows I’m right. The look is sexy as hell, and my libido goes into overdrive, which is weird. God, it’s got to be because I’ve had such a long dry spell. I really should call Matt back.
I sign, Is Theresa moving in?
“God no. Why would you ask that?”
My head rocks back, surprised by his quick denial. Maybe because she’s your girlfriend, and I’ve noticed she’s over here a lot.
“Yeah, I guess I get why you asked, but I’m not ready for that.”
I decide to keep it to myself that I’m sure Theresa is ready for it. Sometimes Hudson lives in LaLa Land and is the last to realize what others around him already have. Then what is this all about?
We both sit at the table in front of our plates before he says, “Our daughter.”
“What about her?” I pick up my fork because I’m about to eat my right arm.
“She wants to know why we don’t sleep in the same bed and if we’re divorced. I think we’ve come to the age where she realizes our situation is different, and she doesn’t understand.”
My stomach suddenly sours, even as hungry as I am, and I put my fork down and sit back in my chair. We all knew eventually it was coming, although in this day and age, there are so many family dynamics you could fool yourself into thinking that the old-school typical family isn’t the norm anymore. But here we are.
“Did you explain it to her?”
He finishes chewing and buys himself some time by sipping his water.
“Hudson?”
“I tried. She’s like a little Barbara Walters.”
I laugh. It’s true. Our daughter doesn’t give up easily when she wants to figure out something. It isn’t hard to figure out Hudson’s ulterior motive now. “And this dinner is so I’ll talk to her?”
“I just…”
“I’ll make you a deal—we can talk to her together.” I nod toward the fridge, which is now missing the drawing of pissed-off Theresa. “The drawing spurred this?”
“It spurred me asking her. I was caught off guard.”
I pick up my fork again and spin it. “Okay, I guess we have no choice but to go at this together. It’s parenting, right? Just give me until tomorrow night.”
“Why then?” he asks.
“Because I have plans.”
He sits back and crosses his arms. “What kind of plans? You’ve been secretive lately.”
“I have a book to finish. I’ve been writing.”
“But not at home?”
“No, not at home.” I bury my head in my plate.
Thankfully he lets the topic go, but I’m not sure how long I can hold him off. Adley got her perseverance from her father after all.