by Liz Isaacson
“Are you saying I can’t go all night without going to the bathroom?” she asked playfully. “Because if you are, you would be right.” And the thought of getting up and getting down out of the bed, going outside to a public bathroom…well, it didn’t really appeal to Scarlett.
She turned and moved the few steps to the door and down the steps. “And you lived in this for a year, right?”
“About thirteen months,” he said. “Went all the way up to the Canadian border and all the way down to Mexico.”
“Hmm.” She waited with him while he put up the steps and then closed and locked the door. “Looking for something?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking at her. “I was.”
“And did you find it?” She laced her fingers through his, all worries about how fast they were moving in their relationship gone.
“I’m not sure yet,” he said, looking over her shoulder at something in the sky. “I will say that I sure like being here at Last Chance Ranch.” Their eyes met again, and he added, “With you.”
Warmth filled Scarlett, and her heart started doing that pounding, twisting thing. “You just know all the right things to say, don’t you?” She giggled and stretched up to kiss him, glad he leaned down to make her job easier.
He kissed her tenderly, unlike some of the more passionate kisses they’d shared. She liked the ones where he pressed her into the door behind her, seemingly unable to get close enough to her. And the ones where he held her face in both of his hands, like he treasured her so much he had to keep her right in front of him.
This tender, slow kiss shot into first place, though, because she felt something in it. She felt loved.
She pulled away and licked her lips, tasting him there. “Mm,” she said. “Shouldn’t we go?”
“Oh, look who’s in a hurry now.” He chuckled and tucked her into his side as he took her to the passenger door. He opened it but didn’t move out of the way. “And Scarlett? The things I say aren’t just pretty words.”
She could drown in the depths of his dark eyes. “Yeah, I know,” she said. He stepped to the side and helped her into the truck, closing the door behind her and walking around the back instead of the front.
And she did know that what Hudson said, he meant. After all, he wasn’t particularly loquacious, and a man of few words had to mean every one he said.
Scarlett smiled to herself and scooted over on the seat to sit right next to her boyfriend. With this being their first road trip together, Scarlett didn’t want to miss a thing.
Chapter 18
Hudson kept one hand on the wheel and one in Scarlett’s. He didn’t want to admit that yes, maybe he was a little nervous. Being in the camper shell with her had shown him how tiny it was, and that there was no way he could sleep in there with her.
He’d been entertaining the idea of putting down the kitchen table and laying down the bench seats where he normally ate or did crossword puzzles. But that was only a step forward and a step up to the divinely smelling Scarlett, and he didn’t think he could lay there and fall asleep with her so close.
She hummed along to the radio as he drove, getting used to the extra weight and bulk of the camper shell again. The beach was only about an hour and a half away, and he’d chosen Huntington Beach, because the sand was warm and while it was sometimes windy, they had great facilities.
He’d told himself that if the lodging was a problem, they’d simply find a hotel. She could sleep upstairs in the room, and he’d take the camper shell in the parking lot. Plus, that way, he’d have a place to park. As he thought about it again, he concluded that a hotel was probably the best option.
“What do you think about getting a hotel?” he asked.
She looked at him, her fingers twirling around that piece of hair she favored. “A hotel?”
“I think you’d be more comfortable.”
“I’m fine in the camper shell.”
“Fine, I’d be more comfortable.”
The weight of her gaze on the side of his face did little to ease his nerves. “Can we afford a hotel?”
“Of course we can,” he said, glancing at her. “There may be something I haven’t told you yet.”
“Oh, a secret.” She smiled, and Hudson did too.
“I didn’t need to live in my truck for thirteen months. I did it to get out of Santa Monica. Cut ties completely. I told you I sold the mechanic shop and bought the truck.” He shifted slightly in his seat, because discussing money made him uncomfortable. “I worked odd jobs for the time I lived in the camper. I only used what I earned to pay for food and gas and other expenses.”
“Are you saying you’re good with money?”
“I mean, I guess.” He looked at her. “I can set and follow a budget.”
He couldn’t truly see her eyes behind her sunglasses, and the traffic in front of him suddenly braked. He did too, gripping the wheel as the truck and shell took an extra few seconds to slow down. An accident avoided, he said, “I sold my mechanic shop for over five million dollars. I haven’t touched a dime of it, besides paying for this outfit.”
He could see her eyes widen beneath those lenses. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“Jan didn’t take any of it?”
“Jan took plenty,” he said, not really wanting to get into everything Jan had taken with her when she’d left. He waited for the flash of pain to come, the resentment, the anger. Only a tiny flicker of a flame licked against his heart, and it was only made of fury. Fine, maybe a touch of resentment too.
But no pain.
He didn’t have time to wonder at that, because Scarlett asked, “How much do you have left?”
“All of it,” he said. “I only had to give Jan ten percent, because she ran her own business from our home, and she got to keep that.” The day he’d moved out was one of the worst of his life, and once again, he waited for the tortuous memories to flood his mind.
They didn’t. Sure, he felt sadness, but mostly because there was still an inkling of missing his previous life. He’d been comfortable, in a nice house overlooking the ocean. His own business that made great money. Work he loved. A wife he adored.
He cleared his throat, wishing the thoughts could be cleansed as easily. “Do you ever miss your old life?” he asked, realizing he’d just changed the subject rapidly.
Scarlett looked away from him, the only answer he needed. But she said, “Yeah, I mean, I guess.”
“I do,” he said. “And not because I want it back. It’s just…that was my life for a long time. I remember being happy in it.”
“Yeah,” she said, a wistful quality to her voice. “I loved my cramped apartment in the city.”
“Let’s drive by it,” he said, the idea just occurring to him. “And on the way back on Monday, we’ll take the long way up to Santa Monica, and I’ll show you my shop and my house.” He looked at her. “You want to?”
She didn’t want to, he could tell. His enthusiasm waned, and he said, “Okay, dumb idea.”
“I like this life I have now,” she said. “I’ve always loved the ranch, and I like myself so much better now than who I was in LA.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” he said.
“How have you changed?” she asked.
“Well, I found God in my thirteen months on the road. I learned to enjoy simple things like sunrises and hot coffee. A warm shower. Running water.”
She laughed lightly and pulled out her phone. “I bet you did.” She held her phone up and pointed it at them. “Let’s take a picture.”
“I’m driving.”
“The traffic is barely moving. Come on.” She nestled her shoulder back into his chest, and he had no choice but to grin at her phone. Click, click, click, and she lowered her arm. She grinned at the screen, and said, “Wow, my boyfriend is so handsome.”
“Yeah?” He looked at her, more confessions piling up behind his tongue. “Listen,” he started. “When I said back at the ran
ch that I didn’t like it when you put yourself down—” He stopped when she abandoned her device to look at him. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I just—I think you’re gorgeous, and I’m kind of hoping you only packed bathing suits.”
She blinked a couple of times before throwing her head back and laughing. “Hudson, I packed way more than bathing suits.”
“Well, that’s terrible news.”
She continued to giggle as she tapped and swiped on her phone. “Sending this to you,” she said, and a moment later, his phone chimed. She tucked it back into her pocket, laced her arm through his, and laid against his bicep. “I sure do like you, Hudson Flannigan. Did you pack more than swim trunks?”
“Not much more.”
“Mm, I can’t wait to get to the beach.”
Hudson couldn’t either, and he faced the red brake lights in front of him, frustrated with city traffic for the first time in a long time.
A couple of hours later, he emerged from the camper shell wearing his swim gear, which consisted of a pair of swimming trunks, a ballcap, and a towel thrown over one arm. “You can change now,” he said to Scarlett, who sat at the metal picnic table he’d parked beside.
She rose slowly, reached up and pushed her sunglasses down her nose to peer at him over the top of them. “Are you serious right now?”
“What?” He glanced down at his bare chest. “We’re going into the ocean. I want to see that bathing suit.”
She hastily pushed her glasses back into position and crossed her arms. “I don’t know, Hudson.”
“What don’t you know?”
“Why do you like me?” she asked instead of answering his question.
“Because you’re smart,” he said. “And beautiful. And you have a big heart, which cares about hundreds of animals, and people, and Gramps.” His mouth felt dry. She’d never really said it was okay he’d told her not to put herself down.
So she carried around a few extra pounds. He liked them. Found her sexy and stunning, and his fantasies and dreams were things he could never do until they were married.
And there was that M-word again. Hudson really needed to get some things straight in his head. Number one, Scarlett was nowhere near a marriage discussion, which meant he couldn’t be thinking about it either. Number two, if she needed time, he needed to give it to her.
“I’m going to go change,” she said, marching away from him like he’d said something wrong. She went inside the camper shell, and he heard her suitcase hit the floor as she pulled it out of the closet.
He sighed and wiped his forehead. He’d put sunscreen on all the exposed skin, drank a whole bottle of water, and wandered down the shoreline and back, and Scarlett still hadn’t come out of the camper shell.
“Scarlett?” he asked, rapping lightly on the door.
“I can’t come out,” she said.
“Then I’ll come in.”
“No,” she called, but he’d already opened the door and committed to taking the steps. She couldn’t hide in the camper shell; there wasn’t anywhere to go. She stood before him in a black swimming suit that showed all her curves.
His heart bounced around inside his chest, and he said, “Wow, you’re beautiful.”
“You can’t possibly think that.”
“I absolutely think that.” He took a step forward and laced his fingers through hers. “And I’ll say it every day until you believe it.” He bent down and kissed her, going slow and letting her set the pace.
When she finally pulled away, he said, “Come on. Let’s go sit on the beach.”
She came with him, grabbing a towel from the closet as he led her down the steps. With the camper shell locked and their beach bags with them, they walked through the sand in silence.
He set up their umbrella while she unfolded the chairs they’d rented from a surf shop. With her oversized bag between them, Hudson stretched his legs out in front of him and took her hand.
“I love the beach,” he said. “My mother used to bring us when Dad got in a foul mood over something.”
“What would he get upset about?”
“Horses,” Hudson said. “Clients. Me.” He hated that the old feelings still existed inside him. But they did, and he knew he needed to deal with them. “I think I’m going to go visit them next week.”
“You are?”
They hadn’t spoken about his parents much. A little here and there. Next week seemed way too soon for a visit. “Maybe for my birthday.”
“No,” she said, a hint of a whine in her voice. “I’ve been planning a party for you on your birthday.”
His eyebrows quirked, and he looked at her. “You have? When?”
“You thought I was asleep on the way down here, didn’t you?”
“You were asleep.”
She giggled and squeezed his fingers. “Nope, I was party planning with my eyes closed.” She sat up straight and said, “So definitely go visit them. But not on your birthday.” She leaned over and kissed him, a devilish grin on her face. “I want you on your birthday.”
“Oh, I see how it is,” he said, but nothing could be further from the truth. He had no idea what she meant by “I want you.”
He knew it wasn’t in terms like fiancé and groom.
And that’s not okay?
He thought about it as she settled back in her seat and the only sound between them became the roar of the waves as they washed ashore. In the end, it was okay that she wasn’t ready for the next step in their relationship.
It had to be, because he could only see this relationship with her ending in one of two ways. Either they’d get married and be blissfully happy for the rest of their lives. Or she’d break up with him, he’d have to leave Last Chance Ranch, and he’d never see her again.
He was really hoping for the first scenario, and really all she needed was time. And Hudson had plenty of that to give.
So why did it feel like he was suddenly trapped between a rock and a hard place?
Chapter 19
Scarlett lay on the foam mattress in the camper shell, the darkness around her almost suffocating. Hudson had made a bed in the back of the truck, claiming he’d put all the seats down and it was plenty wide for his shoulders.
She hadn’t been able to go look at it. Guilt would’ve had her offering him the bed again, and he’d have refused, and the awkwardness that had accompanied them on this road trip would’ve come back
She also didn’t want to suggest a hotel, though that would’ve been her first choice. She couldn’t afford it, and she didn’t want Hudson to pay for it. Five million dollars.
The man had money, and while that didn’t affect how she felt about him, it certainly changed things.
Don’t put yourself down.
You’re so beautiful.
I’ll say it every day until you believe me.
Scarlett wanted to believe him, but something inside her wouldn’t let her. She knew she couldn’t continue a relationship with him without getting over this negative view she had of herself. She couldn’t survive another marriage where she worried constantly if she was good enough for her husband, where she was paranoid every time he left the house.
To her knowledge, Vance had not cheated on her. But the fear was real that Hudson would find someone who “suited him better” the way Vance had done. Hudson hadn’t said he felt like their relationship had stalled, but his actions suggested he felt it.
Scarlett hadn’t felt it until he’d asked her to go on the road trip with him. Then every insecurity and doubt she’d had had reared up and plagued her day and night. Sitting beside him—a handsome, tan, strong man—in a bathing suit had been torture, and she’d made an excuse about an itchy tag after only forty-five minutes on the beach. She’d come back to the camper shell and changed into a pair of cutoffs and a tank top, which didn’t cover much more of her body, but also didn’t stick to all the wrong parts in such offensive ways.
He’d gone swimming in the ocean while she’d just wa
ded out and laughed at him. They’d wandered down the beach until they found a stand selling corndogs and chips. They’d talked about his family a little more, and the ranch, and what Scarlett’s dreams for it were.
And now she lay in a bed that smelled like him, and he was approximately five feet below her in the cab. And she couldn’t fall asleep.
She pulled out her phone and texted Adele. Something easy like, Hey, just checking in. How are Billy and Bob?
They’d decided to leave the dogs with Gramps and Adele, and both had seemed happy about the dog-sitting arrangements.
They’re great, Adele sent back. No pictures until I hear how things went with Hudson on the beach.
Scarlett sighed, unsure of how to answer. She was a grown adult, and she didn’t need to spill everything that happened her relationship to her best friend.
You’re second-guessing yourself again, aren’t you? Adele knew her so well, which made Scarlett smile. But it wasn’t even a happy smile, just one borne from nostalgia.
Maybe, she texted back.
Why can’t you believe he likes you?
Scarlett didn’t know. She said that, and then said, Please send me a picture of the pups.
One came in, and Adele mercifully didn’t ask her any more questions. In fact, her next text after a picture of Scarlett’s dogs was, So I finally accepted a date with Carson. We went to lunch and then he kissed me.
Scarlett sat straight up in bed, almost knocking her head against the top of the camper shell. “What?” she said out loud. She hit call on her phone, needing to talk to Adele right now.
Her best friend had been so adamant about her dislike of Carson, and she’d been strict in her no-boyfriend-at-the-ranch policy. And now she’d kissed the cowboy?
She didn’t answer, instead sending her call to voicemail, and Scarlett hung up without leaving a message. A text came in that said, He’s still here. Can’t talk. I’ll call you in the morning.
“Still there?” Scarlett checked the time, and it was almost midnight. She grinned and shook her head. “Good luck, Adele,” she whispered into the darkness, plugging in her phone, and lying back down.
