by Brenda Novak
She sobered. “What?”
“You care about the things that really matter.”
She hadn’t been far-off, but she didn’t point that out. From what she’d heard, LA was the most superficial city in the world—although she couldn’t imagine Miami being far behind. “Thank you.” She reached across the table to grip his wrist. “I’m sorry about the gift. I know my reaction seemed a little...unnecessarily strict. But it’s important for you to be able to trust me and my motives. If you feel I’m after something or getting more out of the relationship than you are, it won’t work.”
When his gaze lowered to her hand, she grew self-conscious. She’d touched him spontaneously, the way she might’ve touched anyone in the fervor of the moment. She really wanted to convince him of her sincerity. But it was a bit presumptuous, and the level of energy that flowed through that single point of contact wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced before.
Suddenly self-conscious—and far too aware of him in a physical sense—she drew back.
“I should be able to give you anything I want,” he said.
She took another drink of water. “Because...”
“That’s my decision, not yours.”
* * *
Hudson liked Ellie. She didn’t always say what he wanted to hear, but her basic decency—her kindness and fairness—came through, despite the fact that she wasn’t willing to give him whatever he wanted. He felt comfortable with her, normal in a way he couldn’t feel normal when he was constantly being catered to and complimented and indulged.
He enjoyed watching her expressions and mannerisms while they finished eating—enjoyed the conversation, too. She knew so much about so many subjects. Academic subjects, anyway. She knew nothing about football. That was the great irony. She looked at him blankly whenever he brought up the game he loved—what most other people wanted him to talk about.
“What’s a draw play again?” She held her glass as she sat across from him, awaiting his reply. They’d just had homemade blackberry pie—which was about the best dessert he’d ever eaten—and were finished with their meal but still talking. She seemed interested in what he was saying; he had to give her credit for that. But she didn’t get certain nuances.
“Don’t worry about draw play.” He shouldn’t have mentioned that when he’d been explaining how he’d hurt his knee four years ago. “It was a broken play, meaning the play never worked. I had to run instead of handing the ball off, and I couldn’t slide to avoid the tackle. We were in a third down situation with long yardage, so I had to go for the marker. Even then, I would’ve been okay, except Jason Strombach came in with a late hit. I still don’t know what the hell he was thinking. I was clearly out of bounds.”
“He tore your meniscus.”
“Yes.”
“That’s terrible.” She looked concerned, but Hudson suspected that only the result—that someone tore his meniscus—made any sense to her. “So you had to have surgery? Were they able to repair it?”
“I missed most of the season but returned for the final two games.”
“How many games are there?”
“Not including preseason, there are seventeen weeks. Each team—thirty-two in all—plays sixteen games.”
“So you missed eleven games because of this...Jason guy?”
“Jason guy?” Hudson started laughing. “You mean Jason Strombach? The best safety in the league?”
When he kept laughing and couldn’t seem to stop, she rolled her eyes and got up to collect their plates.
“Sorry,” he said, trying to bring himself under control. “You could talk about a lot of things I wouldn’t understand, so I’m not trying to make you feel stupid—if it’s even possible to make someone so smart feel stupid. It’s just that most people you meet wouldn’t understand immunology—not unless they’d been trained in it—but they would understand the game of football.”
“I’ll learn it,” she said.
He got up to carry the rest of the dishes to the sink. “I have no doubt. All you’d have to do is watch a few games with some interest.”
She turned on the water. “When I asked if they’d repaired your knee, you didn’t really answer me. You said you came back for the last two games of the season. That’s not entirely the same thing.”
He shrugged. “It gets sore and starts to ache now and then. I have to ice it after most games, but I’m fortunate that it hasn’t impeded my ability to cut or run.”
She turned off the water and looked up at him. “How do people who care about you watch you play?”
She was so serious, he wasn’t sure how to interpret the question. “What do you mean?”
“It’s such a dangerous game. Aren’t they afraid you’ll get hurt?”
“Oh, yeah. My agent. The owner of the team. My teammates. The coach. Any Devils fan. They’re probably all afraid I’ll get injured and won’t be able to play.”
She seemed to think about that for a moment. “I’d rather you didn’t take the risk to begin with,” she said and went back to washing up.
He leaned against the counter. “You don’t want me to play.”
“No.”
He’d never had a woman tell him that. Most of the women he’d dated liked who he was in the world—and wanted him to maintain his status. “It’s my job, Ellie. What else would I do?”
She cast him an assessing look. “You’re smart. You don’t have to play football. You could do anything.”
She didn’t understand. He hadn’t been all that good in school, couldn’t have taken the path she did. He’d been too busy rebelling. It was football that had changed everything, made him matter in life. “I love what I do,” he said.
“Then I’m glad it’s worked out for you, but...I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch.”
17
Hudson wouldn’t take his gift with him when he left. Whenever Ellie tried to give it back, he’d simply toss it over her head into the room somewhere. After retrieving it and trying to force it into his hands three different times, she gave up. “I won’t accept it,” she insisted. “I can’t accept it.”
“That’s bullshit,” he said. “You can accept it if you want.”
“How much did it cost?” she asked. “If it was less than $100, I’ll make an exception, but that’s a nice brand.”
“I’m not telling you how much it cost. It’s not polite to even ask.”
“You shouldn’t have done it!”
“Why? I got something I thought you’d like to make up for everything you’re going through. Why not leave it at that?”
“I told you why.”
“Fine. If you don’t like it, throw it away.”
“Maybe I will,” she said in an effort to overcome his attempt to strong-arm her. But he left without it anyway, and after he was gone she couldn’t help finding that sack and digging inside.
She felt guilty when she realized he’d gotten her a card, too. She hadn’t even thought to check. The least she could’ve done was accept that part of his gift.
She sat on the edge of the couch as she tore open the flap.
The card had a beautiful peacock on the front. There was no preprinted message, but Hudson had written a few lines.
Ellie,
I look forward to the adventure that awaits us. Somehow, we’ll get through even the hard times and be the best parents we can be.
If this had to happen, I’m glad it happened with you.
Sincerely,
Hudson
She smiled at the last line of his note. That was a nice thing to say.
As she put the card aside, she told herself to leave the gift alone. She’d be giving in if she looked. But her resistance lasted only a few minutes. Unable to quell her curiosity, she
removed the tissue paper, opened a small box that held another box—this one made of smooth, polished wood—and opened it to find a gold necklace with a pendant representing a mother holding a child in her arms.
“Wow,” she murmured as she lifted it out. He was right. She loved it.
She tried to make herself put it back in the box. But then she decided to try it on—and couldn’t bring herself to take it off. He’d purchased this for the mother of his child. Surely she could accept one present. This wasn’t something he could give to anyone else, after all, and if he couldn’t take it back...
After wrestling with her principles for another hour, she finally picked up her phone and called his number.
“You win,” she said when he answered.
“I win what?”
“I opened the necklace.”
She heard him chuckle. “And? Do you like it?”
“It’s beyond gorgeous. But you’d better not ever buy me anything else. This is all I’m going to accept.”
“Fine. I’ll respect your wishes. Just relax and enjoy it, okay? Your life is going to change a lot. You deserve something pretty—like you.”
She told herself not to take the compliment too seriously. “It was very thoughtful of you. So was the card.”
“Everything’s going to be okay, Ellie,” he said. “Thanks for trusting me enough to move to California.”
“We’re both taking a leap of faith. I realize that.” After telling him good-night, Ellie disconnected. She was nervous—about everything—but she couldn’t come up with a better plan.
A text came in. She thought it might be from Hudson—possibly more reassurance—but it was Don.
I heard you quit today, that you’re moving to California with Hudson. Is that true?
He and Leo had already left the BDC by the time she’d arrived earlier, so she hadn’t said goodbye to them. She’d been relieved that hadn’t been necessary. But reading his words made the impending changes so real—and caused goose bumps to break out on her arms.
Was she crazy?
Maybe. But there was no turning back. Hudson had told her tonight that he’d purchased two first-class tickets to LAX. A limo would be picking her up in the morning—after collecting him from his hotel.
Yes, she replied.
You’ve got to be kidding me!
She didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop him from texting again.
Don’t be a fool, Ellie. You’re making a mistake. Whatever’s going on between you two, it won’t last. You don’t even really know him!
Don’t pretend you care, she wrote back.
That’s the thing. I do care. Just because I love Leo doesn’t mean I can’t love you, too. Love is never an either-or. That was what made everything so difficult for me. I wasn’t pretending when we were together.
She almost typed “You were still lying to me,” but what was the purpose? They’d been down that road. I appreciate the kind words, she wrote instead. Regardless of what happened with Hudson, she was over Don.
But you’re still going? he wrote.
Of course.
Ellie, please don’t. This will screw up your life.
How do you know?
Do you understand the number of women who must throw themselves at him? Some of the most beautiful women in the world are probably vying for a marriage proposal. No one could hang on to someone like him—not for long. He’s a dream, a mirage.
True. So she wasn’t even going to try to win his heart.
I appreciate your concern and wish you and Leo the best.
There was a long pause before he responded. Then he wrote the classiest text she’d ever received from him.
You’re a beautiful, smart, confident woman who’s capable of doing great things. You don’t need Hudson or any man, so hold your head high no matter what happens.
* * *
Ellie had never flown first-class. She’d been too practical to spend the extra money, but Hudson refused to fly any other way. He said he couldn’t sit in the cramped seats of coach, that he didn’t fit, and he wasn’t about to subject himself to the onslaught of interest he’d receive if he didn’t do something to separate himself from the other passengers.
She would’ve felt the same if she were him. He couldn’t walk through the airport without people stopping to stare, point or give him a high five. One woman approached to ask for a picture, which Hudson was nice enough to allow—until other people started lining up. After five or six photos, when the swarm only grew larger, he excused himself, saying he had to get through security so he wouldn’t miss his flight, and took Ellie’s hand to make sure she moved as quickly as he did.
“I could’ve flown in coach,” she told him after they’d boarded and were putting on their seat belts.
He’d taken the window seat to put some distance between him and the people filing past. “You told me that—about ten times.”
“I meant it. This seems like an unnecessary extravagance.”
“I’d never stick you in back while I sat in front.”
“Why not? Coach is all I’ve ever flown.”
“You’re uprooting your life and coming to California because I asked you to. The least I can do is provide a first-class ticket.”
Except that kept her right next to him, and she’d been hoping for a reprieve. The more time she spent with him, the harder it became not to touch him. The fact that she hadn’t slept with anyone since their night together five months ago only added to that. After being so serious with Don, her body had grown accustomed to a certain amount of sexual activity, and she was feeling the long absence. She told herself that was why she kept remembering the taste of Hudson’s warm, soft mouth on hers and the way he’d used his hands to excite and please her at the hotel.
You have to forget about that, she told herself and tried not to mind when an especially attractive flight attendant leaned across her to tell Hudson she’d be available if he needed anything during the flight.
“She was pretty, don’t you think?” Ellie asked.
“Who?” he replied, although the woman had patted his arm before walking away.
“The flight attendant.”
Hudson had his ball cap and sunglasses on in an attempt to blend into the background, but the flight attendant obviously knew who he was, and the people who’d recognized him in the airport hadn’t been fooled. “Oh. Yeah. I guess.”
Ellie got the feeling he hadn’t really looked at the woman. “I wonder if I’m going to like California,” she mused.
“I hope so.” He sounded a bit worried.
She studied his profile. “Are you sure I shouldn’t get my own place? Won’t it feel odd for us to be...roommates?”
He kept his face turned to the window while he answered. No doubt he was afraid one of the coach passengers still boarding would get a good look at him and alert the whole plane to his presence. “Odd in what way?”
“Restrictive?” She had no interest in being privy to his encounters with other women, particularly while she was getting bigger and more unappealing by the day.
He risked pulling his gaze from whatever he was watching outside to give her one of his sexiest smiles. “I guess you’ll just have to forget about other men while you’re living with me.”
She thought he was joking, but she was serious when she said, “And you will...”
He didn’t hesitate. “Do the same.”
She wished she could read the level of sincerity in his eyes, but they were hidden behind his Ray-Bans. “Really? You’ve invited me to stay for quite a while, so is that realistic?”
“It would be a lot more realistic if you’d change your mind about our...nighttime arrangements,” he grumbled.
She glanced around to make sure no one was list
ening to their conversation. First class afforded them more room, but there could easily be someone who was trying to figure out if he was who he appeared to be. “I can’t,” she murmured. Not if she planned to survive the next year with her heart intact—to remain functional and independent enough to move on alone, if she had to. “But since we’re back on that subject, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
He yanked the bill of his cap a little lower. “What’s that?”
“What are you going to tell your friends and...and the rest of the team about me?”
“Haven’t decided yet. Why?”
“I hate to suggest you lie. But admitting that you picked me up at a club and took me to your hotel for a one-night stand doesn’t show me in a very favorable light. I’d rather your friends not see me as some sort of...burden. Or jump to the same conclusion you did and think I’m trying to take advantage of you.”
His eyes lowered to the necklace he’d bought her as she fiddled with it, moving the clasp around to the back. “I’m glad you’re open to stretching the truth to a degree. Since sports figures are often unwitting role models for kids, I’ve been worried about that, too. I mentor quite a few boys at the boys ranch where I attended high school and would have some explaining to do—considering what I’ve told them about being responsible in their relationships with girls. Best to avoid that, if possible.”
“Makes sense.”
“So how do you suggest we handle it?” he asked.
“Why not say we met online? That we’ve had a relationship for at least six months?”
“I admit I’ve told a couple of people about the baby, but one of them will go along with whatever we decide, and I didn’t get specific enough with the others that this would contradict what I said. So...I’m all for it.”
She settled back in her seat. “Great.”
“That gives us a history,” he said. “But how should we characterize our current relationship?”
“That’s a little harder,” she replied. “I don’t want you to feel I’m trying to stand in the way of you seeing other women, but since I’ll be living with you... I’m wondering if, for the first month or so, we should pretend to be closer than we are?”
