Page 10 of One Boiling Summer (Texas Summer #15)

GLIMPSES AND GLANCES

LACEY

Hudson had a few days off and dedicated them to helping me fix up Mom’s porch—thank God. The old Victorian had a nearly wraparound one that ran all the way across the front and half way up both sides of the house. The job would have taken me much longer without him.

Day one was sanding day, which meant little time for talking thanks to the constant, ear-buzzing hum of the sander. But that didn’t stop us from sharing our favorite music shared in our earbuds.

We both seemed to have a penchant for country from oldies and greatest hits to songs of today. I sang my heart out to The Judds. He countered with Tim McGraw. By mid-afternoon, when we finally unplugged the sanders and a Shania Twain track came on, he took me by the hand and spun me into the yard.

I never knew he had moves like that—twirling me in and out, two-stepping like he was born to dance. I laughed like I hadn’t in ages. He may even have cracked new laugh lines he didn’t know he had.

Mrs. Blevenda Jones, the retired high school biology teacher next door, gawked through her kitchen window, and Hudson, cool as ever, tipped her a salute with his old Poppy Valley High School baseball cap.

Then he turned it backwards, leaned in, and kissed my cheek.

.. and didn’t stop there with the surprisingly sexy moves.

His lips found the shell of my ear, then trailed to my neck—sweet, slow-burn, panty-melting kisses that were supposed to be for show but left a lingering heat long after they ended.

Dang he was good at putting on this act in front of others.

And how long had it been since I’d had any man showering me with affection like this? Even if only pretend, the butterflies awakened within me, fluttering at his every touch and every glance the longer we spent time together.

“Good show,” I sighed, as I parted from the dance and giggled, forcing myself to remember why we were doing this in the first place.

Day two, the painting began. To start the morning, he'd brought me iced caramel coffee and pastries from Java Co.

“Our plan is working. Intel says the town has officially shifted their gossip,” he boasted, handing me the cup when I greeted him on the sanded porch.

“So soon?” I opened my coffee lid and took a sniff of the caramel goodness.

“We’re the hot topic of the moment. Mary Temple from the Poppy Daily stopped me outside of Java and asked point blank if we were secretly married.”

“Seriously? What did you say?” Part amused, I choked on a sip of coffee, although I was ultimately relieved. This plan was working.

“No comment.” He shrugged.

Then I asked, "Was Carson there? What did he say?"

He took a long sip, watching me carefully. “Nope. But I know he and Emme have been arguing since you came back.”

I chewed my cheek. “Sorry to hear that. I’m not even sure we need to talk at this point. Besides, what would we say? It’s been forever since we last spoke.”

Hudson gave a slow nod. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

I looked away. He was probably right. Although I hated the small hole in my heart that could only be filled by Carson and our old friendship.

“Come on. Let’s get suited up. Lots of painting to do. With temps heading into the 80s we want to get going before it’s boiling.” Hudson held up overalls that looked straight out of an aliens movie, made of white gauze material that would supposedly protect us from paint splatters.

We got to work and the sun baked down. Dry heat, no breeze, not a cloud in sight. Perfect for painting, not so wonderful for the painters. The overalls proved hot as hell, and not in a good way.

It wasn’t long before I stripped down to my thinnest jogging shorts and a black sports bra, hoping to survive. Hudson went shirtless, too, with sun-kissed skin. Casual in khaki cargo shorts, his ball cap turned backward on his head, he walked out of my sexiest daydream, all hard ridges everywhere.

Not going to pretend at all that I didn't notice. He could put a lot of those pale New York City men working all day at their computers in the skyscrapers to shame. I also pretended not to notice the loaded and coy gazes he turned on me now and then as we talked.

“Whew. Hot day. Need a refill on your sweet tea?” I asked.

“Only if it comes with a pretty view.” He winked. When I took his glass off of his hands, he liberally looked me up and down.

“Flirty glance there.”

“Must be the paint fumes talking.” He smirked. “Just enjoying the perks of volunteering.”

I tossed an unused paintbrush at him. “You call this volunteering?”

He caught it with ease. “Sure. Volunteer gossip decoy. Volunteer porch whisperer. Anything else I could volunteer to do for you? ”

I shook my head, laughing at the way his voice deepened as I went to make a fresh batch of tea. “I'll let you know if I get any ideas.”

The afternoon wore on as we painted and reminisced about days gone by. He filled me in on several of the people we knew from school. And of course, he told me what his other brothers have been up to lately.

“Doc is the primary care physician at the local clinic. We tease him that if someone has a serious disease, a venereal disease, or a common cold, he knows all about it because everyone goes to him practically. Add to that Branson as police officer, and I supposed you could say the Goodson boys pretty much know everything about everyone in this town. But I am proud of them.” When he talks about the boys—all grown men now—it’s like he’s a proud father, his chest puffed out a little more, and rightly so, considering he basically helped Mama Goodson raise them all.

As he talked more, I admired the way his eyes lit up. I could just imagine him with his own children, how good he’d be, taking care of them and a wife like he always took care of everyone who meant something to him. His family was his life.

I envied their large brood. I’d never had that. Mom tried to be there for me and did her best, while dealing with her own grief. But without any other family around, things were tough.

I gazed upon Hudson with fresh eyes all of a sudden. Here was a loyal, hardworking, decent man. Okay a little grumpy at times. Vastly different from men I’d dated in New York. Which had been my problem all along. Whatever I was searching for in New York, I didn’t find it.

Yes. Hudson had grown into a fine man. One who knew how to deliver a kiss, without any intention behind it. What would it be like when he really meant it? When he really loved a woman and went all out for her?

Wait. Why was I thinking of him this way? I gave my head a shake and focused back on what he was saying.

“Once I leaned into Lawson being more artistic than Dawson, he seems to have found his path in life, even if it’s more of a creative lifestyle.”

I held in a giggle about their nicknames, Happy and Dopey. Dawson was the funny one of that family, always quick witted. Whereas Lawson was chill, very laid back, always finding his own rhythm with things.

“In fact, it was going to be a surprise to everyone in town, but I’ll tell you.

On Saturday after our gathering at the cemetery, we’re going back to Java where Lawson will unveil his plans for a mural he’s going to paint on the building for Carson.

It’ll memorialize that fateful town hall fire and honor both of our fathers and all the firefighters who are dedicated to serving this community.

” He finished with a wistful stare. “I miss Dad sometimes.”

“Oh, Hudson. I do, too.” I paused mid stroke of the brush and fought back the lump in my throat, as if going through the night of the fire allover again, even though I was younger when it happened, and he was older.

He’d had the chance to know his father better than I had mine.

But loss was loss, and I knew the same deeper pain from the loss of my mother.

Our eyes met up across the porch with a sudden connection so strong, as if it reached across our past and time, and brought us closer together.

“Anyway…” he broke the silence first that stretched too long between us. “Then there is Grayson, the shy one.”

“Aw Grayson. He was always so bashful and sweet, with those cute dimples of his.” He and Carson were the babies of the guys. Grayson wouldn’t have gotten into half the trouble he did if not for Carson dragging him into it.

“Yep. I never thought he’d find his path in life, skipping from job to job, until he started working for this no-kill animal shelter right outside of town a couple of years ago.

Turns out caring for animals is his thing.

So, that’s it. All seven of us kids. Time had a way of making things work out for us. ”

I huffed. “It’s more than time. You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Hudson. You had a hand in that, too.”

“You sound like Mama.”

“Everyone in Poppy Valley knows she’s a smart woman.” Her words came flooding back to me. Keep your eyes open, sweetheart. The right man might not be the one you thought you’d end up with.

“Hey, are you okay?” He jolted me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah. Sure. Looks like we’re almost done. Only the steps left to go.” We’d planned this just right, leaving ourselves an out at he steps.

“We can finish before sundown, unless you want to put it off until tomorrow?” He quirked a brow.

“I’m game to keep going if you are.”

He was right. When we finally finished, the sun threatened to go down behind the hills.

My skin glistened with sweat, and his did too.

We sat under the old cedar tree in the yard, gulping tea like it was a lifeline.

We both took off our shoes and socks, wiggling our toes in the cool grass.

My glass empty, I took to sucking on the ice.

Then I ran an ice cube around my neck and collarbone, sighing with relief at the coolness of it.

Hudson stared, lips parted. I caught a hint of groan from him.

“Bet a dip in the lake would feel amazing right now,” I said, tipping my glass of ice toward him. He took a cube and did the same on his skin as I eyed the drops of water descending down his muscular ridges.

“Too bad I don’t have the energy to move.” He laid back in the grass and tilted his cap over his eyes.

I spotted the hose still coiled near the flower beds and got a flicker of an idea. “Be right back.” I grabbed our glasses, making like I was going to refill. He only grunted something that sounded like thanks.

I twisted the hose spigot, waited a second, then tiptoed back.

“Hey Hudson,” I called sweetly.

He lifted the brim of his cap, and I blasted him with cold water.

He shot up, cursing and laughing, water dripping from his shorts. “Think you’re some kind of fire fighter, like you can handle a hose? You’re gonna regret that!”

I squealed and ran, but he caught me fast, wrestled the hose out of my hands, and sprayed my back. I shrieked, drenched and trying to catch my breath between laughs. But blessedly cooled off.

Then I tackled him, hoping to wrestle him for the hose, but he was stronger, faster. He caught me mid-lunge and I landed against his chest, gasping.

Then he kissed me. His mouth hot and wild. His arms strong like oak, hands cradling my ass. My legs circled his waist before I even thought twice. He walked us straight to the porch, up the steps that somehow managed to dry fast, still kissing me like I was his oxygen.

Anyone in the neighborhood certainly got their eyeful. We were really good at play acting. Soaked and laughing when we stumbled inside, we dripped all over the hardwood floor.

Suddenly, a horrible rattling noise echoed from the basement.

We froze.

“What was that?” My face scrunched and I flew behind him as if he’d be my shield if a monster attacked.

“Uh. Could be your air conditioner? It’s pretty warm in here.” Hudson scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh, no,” I groaned.

“I’ll check it out. Grab us some towels?”

I nodded and darted to the hallway closet while he bolted downstairs. By the time he returned, the noise had stopped, and he shook his head.

“I think it’s shot, but I don’t know. Your mom’s system is older than sin, and HVAC is beyond my pay grade,” he explained.

“Crap,” I whined, towel-wrapping my hair. “I don’t think I can afford a whole new unit. If I stay here all summer, I’ll die of the heat. Oh, it’s no use. What made me think I could keep this place going on my own and with no job yet? But I can’t bare to sell it. It’s all I have left of Mom.”

“No. You can’t do that.” He placed his hands on my arms, reassuring. “Look, let me call Dawson. He’s helped with our Firehouse system now and then and has done some work on houses we’ve fixed up and sold. He might be able to repair it for a whole lot less.”

“Really? That’d be great. Can you call him now?”

“Sure. Unless you’d like to pick up where we left off before the air conditioner stole my thunder.”

I snorted. “Sorry. Basement monster noise is a total mood killer for me.”

“Noted. No HVAC interruptions next time.” He gave me a teasing, smoldering grin as he walked into the kitchen to make that call.

“Next time?” I whispered under my breath. Would there be a next time? The town was buying our charade. We were winning by pretending. But for how long? And what if this was all becoming far too real?