THREE WEEKS LATER…
He’s hard to miss as he towers above everyone in the baggage claim area, his face brightening the moment he sees me. I’m exhausted, my hair barely held together with a ponytail, my face bare of makeup. I probably stink because I’ve been traveling for three days straight, squeezing into overcrowded buses headed for the airport only to learn the original flight was canceled.
But all that is forgotten the moment I’m in Hudson’s arms, and my heart is full. Complete. It’s silly to think this way, but I can’t help myself.
I’m in love.
Took a trip halfway across the world to accept it, but it is what it is.
And as Hudson scoops me in his arms, his mouth covering mine in a very public idgaf-what-anyone-says display of affection, it’s all I need to know that I am loved, too. Guess there’s a big difference when you’ve got the whole package.
“Hey stranger,” I say when he finally pulls away, allowing me to catch my breath.
“Hey stranger yourself.” Hudson plants another kiss on my lips. “You ready to head home?”
I love the way he says the word. Home. “Hell, yeah, I am.” I pull my phone from my back pocket and switch on the camera. “This one’s for Harlow. She wanted to make sure I got back safely.”
I snap a selfie of both of us before texting it to Harlow with the words Gonna catch up later. Will be busy for a few hours before putting my phone away again.
To say Hudson and I will be busy is an understatement. We have a lot of catching up to do, starting with a long shower to wash all the travel off me. That and the life I used to know.
My producer wasn’t happy, but there was nothing he could do. I was moving on, and after fourteen years, even he had to admit I deserved it. This time I get to live life on my own terms with nothing on the agenda but to be happy.
That’s what Hudson wants for me, and our daily text exchanges, while I was away, said the same thing. I want you to be happy, he texted me one night. Preferably with me.
I like the sound of that, I texted back.
Hudson: Really?
Arden: The ‘with you’ part is a huge selling point.
Hudson: Say it again.
And I did, this time with a phone call using my international minutes. “Yes, Hudson. I want to be happy with you.”
The silence that followed made me wonder if I should have texted the words instead.
“I love you, Arden.”
As I held my breath, there was no mistaking the words, even on a static-filled digital line. “I love you, too, Hudson.”
“Now get your ass home to me.”
And here I am.
“What are you smiling about?” Hudson asks as he hoists my luggage onto the cart.
“You waited for me.”
He pulls me to him, planting a kiss on my forehead. “We’ve got something that could last. Do you believe that?”
I could lie and say yes, but there’s no need to. Because I believe him. And I believe in us. “I do.”