But if she had any hope of surviving this weekend with her heart intact, she needed to ignore all of it and focus on what would be left of her after he’d gone.
As she stared up at him, the weight from her shoulders lifted, but she didn’t avert her gaze. Couldn’t. Because his eyes were blazing as he looked down at her, hunger so blatant in them he might as well have a banner flying above his head. She only hoped hers weren’t revealing the same.
“You ready?” he asked, the rough, gravelly note to his voice shooting straight to her long-neglected lady parts and lighting them up from the inside out.
She was so completely fucked.
Without waiting for her to answer, he took her hand, interlacing their fingers, and tugged her behind him toward his truck. It wasn’t until they’d walked half the distance that she realized Hudson was carrying her pack.
“Hey,” she said, trying to tug her hand from his to reach for it. “I can carry it.”
He squeezed her hand, not letting it go, and glanced at her over his shoulder. “’Course you can.”
She nearly stumbled but managed to keep pace with him. Managed to slide into the passenger’s seat as he hefted her pack to sit right next to his in the truck bed. Managed, even, to put on her seat belt and engage in menial conversation as they drove toward Havenbrook Ridge.
But through it all, she couldn’t stop replaying what he’d said. It was only three words, three tiny words—and not even the three words she’d ached to hear from him for so long—but they still sent a rush of warmth flooding her system.
For most of her life, she’d been trying to prove something to everyone. As clichéd as it was, she was the stereotypical middle child—the one easily forgotten because she didn’t overshadow any of her siblings. She couldn’t touch Rory—the straight A student and all-around perfect child. She wasn’t a troublemaker like Nat, always stealing the focus from everyone else and placing it squarely on herself. And though she was closest to Will, even she was a magnet for attention—her mix of book smarts paired with her affinity for making bad choices a recipe for drawing all eyes to her.
But Mac had always just sort of…coasted by. She was a solid B student who hadn’t strived for more. And while she’d been an excellent athlete, that alone hadn’t been enough to drag anyone’s attention away from the other three.
Then she’d flunked out of college, and she’d gotten the attention she hadn’t even realized she’d been craving, but it’d been all wrong. People had started looking at her, all right. Looking at her like she was a failure and couldn’t be trusted to do…well…anything. And her daddy led the charge.
It was a huge part of the reason she loved the outreach program so much—there, she wasn’t Mackenna Haven, mediocre middle child of the Havenbrook Havens, flunker of college, and all-around lost cause. There, she was Kenna—Hudson’s Kenna—the girl who was strong and capable and knowledgeable. Who was brave and bold and did things no one expected of her—things no one thought her capable of.
“You ready for this?” he asked, squeezing her thigh and pulling her out of her thoughts.
She glanced over at him, his left hand draped loosely over the steering wheel, his right resting on her leg. Hudson had never seen her as anything less than her potential. He’d never seen her as a lousy stand-in for her sisters. Once upon a time, he’d been her person—her encourager, her supporter, and the single soul who always saw only her in a crowded room.
And now she was about to spend a weekend alone with him, out of reach of everyone, and somehow, she had to remain calm and collected. Remain completely detached.
No, she wasn’t ready for this at all.
HUDSON TRIED NOT to get distracted as he watched Kenna navigate the path in front of him. The last thing he needed was to trip over a protruding root or lose his footing on loose rock. But the truth was, seeing her so confident and capable had him hard as fucking steel from the second they’d stepped foot on the trail.
He’d seen this side of her before—back when they’d been younger. When they’d been cocky as hell but too stupid to realize how incompetent they actually were. But back then, it’d been different. She’d still been coming into her own, still finding out what she was capable of, still learning about her strength. Since he’d been gone, it was clear she’d grown into herself.
And he found this new version of her sexy as hell.
Hudson held Kenna’s hand as she climbed over a fallen tree trunk at least two feet in diameter. “You ever come hikin’ up here?”
What he didn’t ask was whether or not she’d come when they’d originally planned to and who she’d done so with if she had. He and Kenna had wanted to climb the Ridge for years, but his momma had forbade them from doing so, the terrain too unpredictable and difficult, given their lack of experience.
Instead of sneaking like they were prone to do, they’d used their brains and had worked up to it. They’d hiked dozens of locations in the area that were on par with their skill set—challenging enough to keep them growing but not so much to get them hurt, or worse. They’d planned to take wilderness training the summer after Kenna’s first year in college so they’d be prepared for the hike when the time came. Had she done that without him?
She shook her head, and it took him a moment to realize she was answering the question he’d spoken aloud and not the one niggling his brain.
Pulling her hand from his the second they’d cleared the tree, she moved her fingers to grip the straps of her pack instead. “No one really enjoys this like I do. When you left, I lost my hiking partner.”
She said the words without heat, as if they were fact. And they were. He’d left her with little notice—hardly any time at all to discuss it, let alone for her to become acclimated to the change—and then he’d been gone.
It’d been the two of them for so long, neither of them cultivating many friendships beyond the one they’d shared with each other, so it was no wonder she hadn’t kept this up with someone else.
He cleared his throat as if he could so easily clear the thoughts from his head. “It’s a good thing I made this bet with you then, isn’t it?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, a smile lifting one side of her mouth. “I don’t know. I really could’ve used some help with my gutters. You’ve seen how many trees I’ve got out there. It’s a nightmare.”
He laughed. “Remember the bet we made on my first day home? When I told you I’d’ve made you the pies anyway?” He waited for her nod before he continued, “I’ll do this for you too.”
Kenna bit her lip, staring at him for a long moment, before she turned around and continued hiking up the trail. “Speakin’ of pies, I still haven’t gotten mine.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got them chillin’ in the freezer for you. Ready to finish off as soon as I get a chance.”
“Mhmm…you sure you’re not just flakin’ on our bet? I know you like to weasel your way to winnin’, but I never took you for a flat-out cheater.”
“Hey now… You know better than to call me that. You don’t think I’ve changed that much since I’ve been gone, do you?”
Her eyes, narrowed and studying under her furrowed brow, bored into his, telegraphing her thoughts as clearly as if she had a megaphone. She didn’t know what he changed into, because they hadn’t been given the opportunity to learn each other as adults.
The truth was, he didn’t know her either. He’d seen glimpses of the old Kenna since he’d been home, but they’d been carved with new facets. These secret parts of her he’d never known but so desperately wanted to.
He wanted to cram ten years’ worth of knowledge and understanding and conversations and inside jokes into a few weeks. Twenty measly days. And half of those were already gone. Coming back here, he’d known he wouldn’t have enough time, but he’d done it anyway. Because he’d needed to see if there was something still between them.
For a while, he’d been wondering if the army was truly the place he belonged. He
hadn’t voiced that aloud, hadn’t even really allowed himself to think it, but it was there, nonetheless, simmering under the surface.
At first, he’d loved being a soldier. He’d loved the thrill and the excitement… Loved the challenges he faced daily and the pride swelling his chest as he followed in his dad’s footsteps and served his country. As he became the man he knew he could be.
But lately, he’d been unsettled. Unsatisfied. And he knew that had little to do with his career and everything to do with the woman he’d left at home.
So, he’d decided, whether subconsciously or not, to come home. And he’d done so knowing it would be the test to see if this was where he belonged.
The more time he spent with Kenna, the more he realized she was who he belonged with. Of course she was. It had always been Kenna. The foundation of their friendship was still there, supporting this new thing they were exploring, and their chemistry had only seemed to blossom more in the time they’d spent apart. Everything was so easy with her, even when she was so obviously fighting it. They fit. They belonged together.
Now he just had to make her see it.
It was exhilarating, being out here. Hiking new terrain. Challenging her body and pushing it to its limits. Of course, what was the limit for Mac was merely a speed bump for her counterpart on this excursion. Which he proved as he carried on a conversation as if they were sitting on the couch watching TV and not climbing one of the most challenging mountains in Mississippi.
“Tell me about your favorites.” Hudson kicked a stray rock off the path and focused his attention on her.
“My what?” Mac managed between panting breaths.
“Your favorites,” he said. “I wanna see if they’ve changed since we were kids. I already know your favorite fruit is still peach, but what about everything else?”
“Specifics, Hud.” Mac inhaled deeply before blowing out a long breath. “I need specifics if you want answers.”
He shot her a grin. “All right. What’s your favorite candy, specifically?”
She rolled her eyes. “Starburst.”
“Still pink?”
She ignored the way her stomach fluttered at the fact that he remembered that insignificant detail. Honestly, she was hard up for a good man if something so inconsequential was getting her fluttery. “Obviously. It’s the only one that counts.”
“Noted.” He nodded. “Let’s see… How about favorite animal?”
“Dog.” If she could keep these to single-word answers, she might have a chance of making it to their intended campsite without her lungs collapsing.
“Another that hasn’t changed.”
“Nope.” She skidded on some stray rocks, and he shot out his hand to grip her elbow, only letting her go once he’d made sure she was steady.
“Okay, this one has to be something new: favorite song?”
She slid him a glance out of the corner of her eye, gripping the straps of her pack. Actually, it wasn’t. It was the same favorite he’d teased her about relentlessly when they’d been kids…and then teenagers. The fact that it was still her number one song of all time was embarrassing as hell. And he’d totally call her out on it. “Um…can’t pick.”
He narrowed his eyes at her while she pointedly ignored him. “I don’t buy it. You’ve got one.”
“How do you know?”
“I might’ve been gone for a long time, but you still have the same tells.” He reached out and brushed a finger down the side of her hand as she spun her earring. “Might as well spill.”
She dropped her hand as if she’d been electrocuted. Dammit, she hadn’t even realized she’d been doing that. “I would…but I don’t want to.”
He chuckled under his breath. “Why not?”
She sucked in a huge lungful of air, then said on an exhale, “Because this mountain is already handing my ass to me. I don’t need you to make fun of me, too.”
Hudson held up three fingers in the universal sign for Scout’s honor. “Promise I won’t.”
“Are you forgettin’ I knew you as a kid and know for a fact you weren’t a Scout?”
“I can still have Scout’s honor.”
“Mhmm… And when you break that code of honor?”
“I think you mean if…”
“No, I mean when. When you break it, what then?”
“All right, if I tease you, I’ll sing the song, acapella.”
An intriguing proposition. Hudson was a terrible singer. Horrific, in fact. Truly earsplitting. He couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, and she had a fully charged phone on her—not that she could use it to contact anyone at all because the service was nonexistent up here. She could, however, video the whole thing and save it for her future viewing pleasure.
“Fine,” she said on a sigh. “It’s ‘Bye Bye Bye.’”
He was quiet for long moments, and she thought she might actually be in the clear. Then he said, “So is it safe to assume you still have that poster of Justin Timberlake hanging up in your room?”
She shook her head, pressing her lips together to keep her smile at bay. “Get singin’, soldier boy.”
A bark of laughter shot out from him, and she found herself grinning right along with him. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this. Not just him, but them. They had an undeniable connection—a chemistry that had nothing to do with sex, although that simmered under the surface—and she’d somehow forgotten it in the time he’d been gone. Forgotten that it could really be this easy with someone.
“How about I serenade you with it tonight during our supper over a roaring fire?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like someone forgot I have a steel trap for a memory—you’re not gettin’ outta this one.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Hudson continued peppering her with question after insignificant question for the next half hour, until she could barely catch her breath because she’d been talking so much. That, and the altitude up here was nothing to sneeze at.
“Okay, how about favorite team?”
She scoffed. “Could you be—” she sucked in a huge lungful of air before slowly blowing it out “—more specific?” Gripping a low-hanging tree branch, she used it to help propel her up the incline. “Which sport? And are you talkin’ college, pro, or international?”
He stared at her, amusement plain on his face. “All of them, obviously.”
She stopped in her tracks, halting him with a hand to his chest. Trying to ignore how warm and solid he was beneath her fingers. His heart thrummed a smooth, steady beat against her palm. Meanwhile, hers was off like a hummingbird, and touching him wasn’t helping matters.
“Hey, Captain America, not all of us are ridiculously in-shape, hotshot soldiers.” She stepped back, dropping her hand and grabbing her water bottle from her pack, needing something to keep her hands busy lest she start roaming them all over Hudson’s body. “You mind savin’ the chitchat till we reach the next summit? That way, I won’t embarrass myself by hurling up a lung while tryin’ to answer your questions.”
His mouth ticked up on the side as he took a step toward her. And then another, and another. He didn’t stop until he stood directly in front of her. The difference between the chill that had settled in since they’d started the hike and the heat pouring from his body was enough to send a shiver down her spine. One he definitely noticed.
He reached up, his fingers hooking under her chin as he swiped his thumb below her bottom lip, the delicate touch sending shock waves of heat through her body.
“What was that for?” she breathed, her eyes caught in the snare of his gaze.
“Water droplet.” He kept up the brain-numbing brush of his thumb against her lips. “Thought it might be too forward of me to lick it off like I wanted to.”
She opened her mouth to say something witty, but nothing came out. He’d officially made her brain-dead. See? This was what she’d been worried about. That she’d come out h
ere with him, get figuratively lost in the woods, and forget all reason. Forget why she needed to keep her distance. Why kissing him was a bad idea, because right now, she wanted it desperately.
When she didn’t respond, didn’t step back or rebuke him, he lowered his head, his eyes connected with hers, until he pressed his mouth to hers. She’d played this over a dozen times in her mind—she knew what she was supposed to do. She was supposed to press her mouth together and step back, tell him that was a bad idea.
Instead, what she did was part her lips, anticipating that next brush of his tongue against hers. She’d just decided to throw caution to the wind, wrap her arms around him, and get lost in the kiss, when a high-pitched bark startled them apart.
“What—” Hudson snapped his head toward the sound, tugging her into his side, as if he was about to pull her right around behind him.
In her dazed state, it took her a moment to register what had startled them apart. She rolled her eyes and batted his hand away, glancing down at the tiny dog that stood a few feet away, wet and raggedy but obviously happy to see them if the unrelenting wag of its tail was any indication. “It weighs all of fifteen pounds, Hud. I think I’ll be okay.”
Still trying to catch her breath—whether from the climb or the kiss, she had no idea—she glanced around in search of the dog’s owner. So far, they hadn’t passed anyone on their hike, though that wasn’t a surprise. It was late in the year, the weather unpredictable, and not many people had the skills or the equipment to deal with fluctuations like that.
“Size doesn’t matter much if it has rabies. Just stay behind me, all right?” He squatted down, making sure to keep himself between her and the animal, not even giving her the opportunity to listen to his order—not that she would. His protectiveness was ridiculous…and yet it still managed to make her heart flutter.
“I don’t see its owner,” Mac said. “I wonder if it got lost?”
He leaned over, tipping his head to the side as he studied the dog. “I don’t know. It doesn’t have a collar or anything, and it looks like it’s been out here for—”
Captain Heartbreaker (Havenbrook Book 4) Page 12
