Page 28

I sigh, close my eyes, and take another deep breath, lowering my shoulders. I’m tired, cranky, and stressed.
“That’s better,” she says. “So are you thinking about Hudson?”
My eyes ping open and I look at her, seeing a wide grin on her face, and my shoulders are now back up near my ears.
“How did you know?” I mumble, somewhat surprised, but I might as well indulge her since she has mentioned him to me a few times already.
She scoffs. “Bit hard not to, honey. The man has been in town for only a month, been out here to the house, gave you his jacket to keep warm, which you so lovingly pressed for him the next morning. He’s bringing me specialist medical attention from the city, which is happening rather quickly, and Rochelle told me today that he got you your favorite cookies,” she says, raising an eyebrow. Damn Rochelle. This town talks more than parrots on speed.
“We are just friends.” I chop the lettuce like it has done me dirty. I’m tense all over again. Hudson cares, I know he does, but we can’t be anything. That’s why I stopped it. His lips were so soft, so demanding, and I wanted to lean into it more, but I can’t.
“He is a good man…” Mom says, and while I’m not looking at her, I can feel her gaze burn into my face. “I will forever be indebted to him…”
“What do you mean?” I ask her, my brow furrowed as I slice the lettuce, the knife slipping a little in my wet hand.
“He saved you that night, Lacy. He was the one who got you back for me.” Her eyes water as her voice cracks. My breath pauses momentarily before I clear my throat and already want to remove the heaviness of the conversation.
“There’s a lot to consider, Mom. He’s an older, wealthy widower, who also happens to be a dad,” I point out to her as I rub my eyes, the dizziness tonight worse than ever, and talking about all this isn’t helping.
“Oh, little Harvey is such a delight. Susan talks about him constantly,” Mom says, now smiling again. She brushed right over my other concerns, probably knowing I’m grasping at straws here. I can’t help but smile too, though, because his son really is such a special kid.
“Harvey is great. They joined me at the diner the other week…” I tell her, trying to act like none of it matters when, deep down, I’m feeling a mixture of emotions.
“Hmmmm… Rochelle told me that as well,” Mom murmurs.
“Why does everyone in this town talk so much?” I snap, and it’s clear my mom doesn’t like my tone by the look she gives me. I’m tired, the water on the lettuce is annoying me, New York is on my mind, and my hand keeps slipping as I chop harder.
“Are you okay, Lacy, really?” Her tone softens, and I pause. I don’t need her worrying about me and some stupid schoolgirl crush I seem to have developed.
“Fine, Mom,” I say, a little calmer. I wish the local community center had yoga or something, not that I would have time to go. But I’m just. So. Tired.
“So… Hudson?” she teases again, and I roll my eyes just as the knife slips from my hand and clatters to the floor.
“This stupid knife,” I grumble, bending over and swiping it from the floor, the water on my hands making me miss the handle, and my hand sliding straight down, my palm slicing on the blade.
“Shit!” I curse, pulling up with a jolt, the pain instant. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to breathe through the pain.
“Lacy!” my mom scolds with an angry frown at my language before her eyes rest on my hand, my white t-shirt now not only see-through but getting coated in red and her face morphs into shock.
“I’ll call the doctor,” she says, grabbing her cell next to her as she panics. I snatch the kitchen towel from the counter and wrap my hand, holding it tightly to my chest for comfort as the burning pain sears through my skin. It’s all I can do to nod to her in agreement as I start to feel even more lightheaded.
I can hearSusan and Mom chatting in the living room as Hudson and I sit at the kitchen table.
“It’s a pretty clean cut. Is there anything you’re not perfect at?” he asks, grinning, his smile making my heart skip a beat. His doctor's bag lays open at our feet, my table now no longer set for dinner but as a makeshift hospital trolley with bandages, antiseptic, and thread.
“I like to ensure everything I do is done to the best of my ability,” I say sarcastically, wondering why this is happening to me. He looks good, as always. His smile is warm, his hands gentle. He’s slightly more casual than I’ve seen him before, but still very well put together. Everything just seems to match or work well on him. Me, on the other hand… I have my oldest threadbare jeans on, my white t-shirt now pink from the blood and slightly see-through from the water. Dried blood smears up my arm, my hair is haphazardly pulled back, and while I haven’t looked at myself, I’m one hundred percent certain that my mascara is all smudged.
“Admirable. Although apparently texting people back isn’t one of the things you do?” Hudson says, looking at me with a raised eyebrow, and I nearly wince with guilt.
“I was just busy,” I murmur my poor excuse, and he grins.
“Hmmmm, does it take you that long to get back to everyone who texts you or just me?” He doesn’t seem upset, still smiling, almost like he is enjoying teasing me about it.
I go with the truth. “Just you,” I tell him, my lips curving into a smile as his widens.
“Well, one thing you should know about me, Lacy, is that when I want something, I’m persistent.”
My breath catches as his smile gives way to a look that almost burns down my entire facade. As he looks at me like he wants nothing more than to pick me up and make a meal out of me right here on this kitchen table, my heart pounds, stomach flips, and I will my mouth to move.