Vow of Devotion (Vow Series Book 4) Page 10

  “For the record, Lilly, I want to be your mom’s boyfriend. Is that okay with you?”

  My head whips toward him, my entire body jolting with his words. I slide my hand over the console and slap his thigh. “Hudson,” I hiss.

  “Will you hang out with us?” Lilly asks from the back seat.

  “As much as I can,” he answers, watching her in the rearview mirror.

  “I think my mommy needs a boyfriend. Will you be her boyfriend?”

  And now my six-year-old daughter is a matchmaker. I can’t help laughing, clutching my stomach. “That’s not how it works, sweetie.”

  “If we hurry,” Hudson says, “we should be able to eat inside and get y’all to school on time.”

  “Sounds good,” I say.

  When we walk into the bakery, my mouth waters from the decadent smells. Hudson leans over, his lips grazing the shell my ear. “Find a table, girlfriend?”

  I groan. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

  “Maybe if I kiss you, I could convince you,” Hudson whispers. “Find a table, bluebonnet.”

  I take Lilly’s hand in mine and find a table close to the front door. Lilly and I sit and wait for Hudson.

  “Lilly, do you like Hudson?”

  “You need a boyfriend, Mommy. Samantha said her mom has a boyfriend and he’s a lot of fun. I want to have fun.”

  I chuckle, shaking my head. It’s as simple as having fun for her. She doesn’t understand the emotional turmoil of bringing someone new into our lives. I sit straighter, hoping to force some steel into my spine. I want to take a page from Lilly’s book and have fun.

  I can enjoy this and see where it goes without planning my and Lilly’s entire life.

  Can’t I?

  Hudson returns with two cinnamon rolls, the largest cinnamon rolls I’ve ever seen. Lilly’s eyes bug out of her head as she stares at them. He sets a cup of milk down in front of her, a coffee in front of me. He drops the forks he was holding in his other hand.

  He sits in the chair next to me but grabs my chair bottom and slides it across the floor until we’re touching knee to knee, thigh to thigh. His arm drops onto the back of my chair and his fingers slide up and down my spine, leaving shivers in their wake.

  “Dig in.” Hudson watches the two of us without touching the gigantic roll in front of him.

  Lilly takes a big bite and moans. Hudson smiles, watching her. “I think this was a good choice for our first outing as boyfriend, girlfriend, and girlfriend’s daughter.”

  “Not my boyfriend.” I shove a bite of cinnamon roll in my mouth, ignoring the heated stare hitting the side of my face.

  Hudson shrugs, slicing off a big piece of his cinnamon roll. “I want it. Lilly wants it. This should be a democracy. Two out of three votes. Lilly and I win.”

  “We win!” Lilly shouts, pumping a fist in the air.

  Hudson strokes my lower back with his thumb.

  I shake my head. I shovel another bite in my mouth, keeping my hand around the fork. I want to reach out and put my hand on Hudson’s thigh. I want to give in. It’s the shouldn’t that’s stopping me. “I’m not sure I’m going to like this arrangement if you two are always ganging up on me.” I spit the lie out through my teeth. I’d love this if I could make it work. But something holds me back.

  Is Hudson taking us on as a challenge? As soon as he wins, will he be out the door while I pick up the pieces of my heart and Lilly’s too? The men in my mother’s life never had a piece of my heart, but they left plenty destruction behind anyway.

  Despite my internal angst, the rest of breakfast is spent laughing and chatting with each other. There’s true ease between the three of us. Being pressed against Hudson and having his hand stroke my back feels natural.

  “Mommy, can I go look at the desserts?” Lilly’s skinny finger points toward the glass display at the front of the shop. The shelves have towering cakes and cupcakes the size of her head.

  “Sure. Stay where I can see you.”

  “You have some icing on your face, bluebonnet,” Hudson whispers.

  My hand goes to my cheek, wiping. He shakes his head.

  “Not there.”

  “Where?”

  He inches closer to me, hot breath fanning over my face, stealing all the oxygen from my lungs. I sway toward him, watching his eyes trail a path across my features.

  “I want to kiss you.” Hudson’s voice is low and gravelly. Wetness pools inside of my panties in an instant. My chest saws up and down with my shaky breaths. I slide my eyes to the side; Lilly’s face is plastered to the glass as she stares in wonder at the treats.

  “Okay.” Wait, what? That was supposed to come out No way.

  Hudson’s lips fuse with mine. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and a quiet rumble sounds through his chest. A denial was the right answer. But this was the right answer, too. My nipples pucker beneath my blouse. One kiss, one sound, and my body is ready for him.

  His tongue coaxes my mouth to open for him. I do. Our tongues tangle together. He tastes like icing and cinnamon and something unique. Whatever it is, I’m instantly addicted to it.

  My mind races with images of us. Us with Lilly. Us on dates. Us rolling around in a bed, lost to pleasure. The bright, happy images break apart, revealing something uglier beneath. Me holding Lilly as she cries and asks why Hudson doesn’t come see us anymore. Me alone trying to hide my own tears and heartache. Me getting fired from my job for being too much a wreck to do it right.

  I break our kiss, putting a hand against his chest. My heart is still racing and my lips are tingling.

  “That was the best first kiss of my life,” he says.

  “It can’t happen again, Hudson.” I manage to make the words sound firm despite the shakiness I feel—and Hudson’s tight features. His mouth is pinched and his eyes are narrowed. He’s not hiding the pain, want, and confusion swimming in his eyes. “Please, I need you to be my friend.”

  “I can’t regret that kiss, Ava.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I’m only asking for you not to do it again. I want you around, but I can’t do it in the way you want.”

  “I’ll take you anyway I can get you.”

  Lilly runs up to the table, breaking the moment. I steal glances at Hudson as she prattles on about kolaches, alligator sugar cookies, and cupcakes with bear ears.

  Five days.

  It’s been five days since Hudson kissed me. He still texts me every single day. He didn’t let anything change when I turned him down. Selfishly, I’m glad. I love the decadent way it makes me feel when I receive a message from him. Warmth flows through me and my heart feels lighter, as if I’ve had a glass of champagne.

  Five days and my lips are still tingling from his kiss.

  I roll in bed, pushing my face deeper into my pillow and hugging another one to my body. A slow smile slides across my face, despite the grogginess and throat tickle I feel this morning. My hand glides across my nightstand, grabbing my phone.

  I can’t muster the energy to get out of bed. I hit the snooze button. A few minutes later, my alarm hasn’t sounded yet. I glance at the time— how many minutes do I have left to snuggle in bed?

  I gasp.

  Zero minutes. I have zero fucking minutes to stay in bed. I’m going to be so late. I jump out of bed, ignoring my protesting body. My aching muscles and bones are so weary, but I have no choice except to launch myself from the bedroom and down the hall, where I find Lilly still asleep in her bed, too.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Lilly,” I call. “Wake up, sweetie. We need to get ready quickly.”

  I usher Lilly out of bed and get her started on dressing before I go back to my room to get myself ready. One glance in the mirror and I remember the horrible decision I made last night.

  My eyes slam shut.

  I’ll shower in the morning.

  What a dumb, fruitless idea that never works out the way I want it to. I look wrecked. I have no choice but to shower—my
hair is past its dry shampoo usage. I hop in the shower, washing my body and hair as quickly as possible. I’ve never showered this fast in my life.

  I pray to the hair gods that today will be the day my hair cooperates and dries in record time. With a towel still wrapped around me, I plug in and turn on my hairdryer. My hand weaves into my wet locks, agitating the strands for a quicker dry.

  My nose tickles, trying to place the new scent filling the air. What the hell is that?

  Flames shoot out of the hairdryer in my hand, and I drop it into the sink in front of me. A loud shriek leaves my throat. I rip the cord from the wall, and the flames stop when the dryer turns off.

  I look at myself in the mirror. A shocked laugh bursts out of me a second before the tears start falling. My hair is still soaking wet. Lilly and I should’ve left the house five minutes ago. At this point, there isn’t a hope in the world that we’ll be on time.

  I crouch down, looking in the cabinet below my sink. I wish I were the type of person to keep an extra hairdryer. Yet desperation has me looking anyway.

  I do have a bottle of mousse. That’s all I have. I grab it, sighing, and settle into the fact that I’m going retro with my hair today. Early 2000s here I come. I haven’t scrunched my hair since I was a teenager, but the water dripping from my hair leaves me little choice.

  Lilly is quiet on our way to school. Her head rests against the window and her eyes are closed every time I glance in the rearview mirror.

  “Are you okay?”

  Lilly’s eyes slowly open, meeting mine in the mirror. “I’m sleepy.”

  “Me, too, sweetie. It’s Friday though. We’ll have all weekend to rest.”

  Lilly nods and goes back to resting her head against the window until we pull into the school parking lot. We sprint across the pavement, racing against the clock.

  My feet come to a dead stop. Mrs. Pritchett stands in the center of the lobby with her arms crossed, her stare fixated on the mess of my hair.

  “Go to class, sweetie,” I whisper, pushing her toward the hallway. Lilly takes off and I face Mrs. Pritchett. My already horrible day sinks even lower.

  Lilly lurches down the hallway, oblivious to the rising tension between Mrs. Pritchett and me.

  “More trouble?” Mrs. Pritchett asks.

  “My hairdryer caught fire.” The words coming out of my mouth sound too much like my dog ate my homework.

  “You would do well to remember that being punctual is necessary but not sufficient. Looking professional is almost as important. Showing up with a mess of wet hair may not seem like a big deal to you, but the students will feed off your obvious distress.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I say, maintaining eye contact even thought I want to look down at my shoes.

  “Have you contacted Warner’s parents?” Mrs. Pritchett changes the subject, but the ice in her tone hasn’t thawed at all.

  “I’ve tried multiple points of contact. Several phone calls and voice messages, emails, and two notes home with Warner.”

  “I’ll place a call and see if I can make any headway.”

  I nod and begin my walk of shame to my classroom.

  “Ms. Kincaid.”

  I spin around. Her eyes are on my hair again. “I recently purchased the Buttercup hair dryer by Drybar. It’s a good hair dryer. It’d certainly never catch fire.”

  I manage to stutter a thank-you before she leaves me stunned in the hallway.

  Chapter 17

  Hudson

  Ava: Busy.

  Ava’s last text message to me is a clear blow off. I want to see her tonight. It’s finally Friday and I can spend the entire weekend with her and Lilly, but she doesn’t want to see me. In fact, her communication has felt off all day.

  Instead of hounding her and forcing her to see me, I go to Liam and Savannah’s house. I shake my head and stare out at the lake. The water is choppy, fighting against the wind with its natural current. Choppy—and fighting against something natural—is exactly how I feel. Usually, this backyard oasis on the lake puts me at ease, but not tonight.

  Lighter fluid fumes burn my nostrils from the tiki torches, but it’s necessary to keep the mosquitos away. The moon is hanging high enough in the sky to create a rippling light show across the wavy surface of the water.

  Harper picks her hair up off her shoulders, holding it in one hand and fanning the back of neck with her other hand. We don’t get to The Cellar, our usual bar, as often as we used to, not since Savannah and Harper had their babies.

  “Are you hot, sugar?” Roman asks. My gaze falls on the two of them. They had to overcome insane obstacles to sit where they are today. Ava and I aren’t up against the same thing, but it hasn’t happened. I want her here next to me so I can check on her, watch Lilly play with the babies. I want to mix Ava in with my life. Not just her, but Lilly, too.

  “Yes,” she says, her hand flapping faster. “I’m so ready for fall weather.”

  It’s technically fall already, but Texas weather doesn’t exactly abide by the calendar. She has her own mind.

  Callan snorts. “Texas doesn’t get fall weather. You go from the devil’s sauna to the slightly cooler hell’s waiting room. It’s past nine and it’s still damn hot.”

  I snort. I’m going to miss Callan’s sense of humor when he moves out. He was approved for a lease. Callan and Brae will only be around for a couple more weeks before they leave my house.

  Harper scrunches her nose. “Unfortunately that’s true. Do you miss Chicago weather?”

  Callan stiffens slightly. “I miss nothing about Chicago. I miss having seasons, but I can get that somewhere far away from Chicago.”

  “Go inside, sugar,” Roman says, kissing the top of Harper’s head. “I want to hear about Hudson’s make-believe girlfriend.”

  Callan smirks. “She’s not his girlfriend.”

  I silently add on yet. “She’s not make-believe.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Harper says. “I want to know everything about your little imaginary friend.”

  “Not imaginary,” I grumble.

  “If it works out, maybe your mom won’t be mad at me anymore.”

  I grin. “Probably. Although you did break her heart.”

  “I give her baby time,” she says, shaking her head but smiling. Mom and Harper bonded almost as soon as they met. My mom wanted me to be with Harper, but she’s nothing more than a friend.

  When Roman stormed back into her life and they had a baby, Mom got mad at Harper. And me. She asked why I hadn’t knocked her up. She’s never quite understood that Harper and I really are just friends. She’s like a sister.

  Though if I brought Ava home, all would be forgiven.

  “Hudson,” Harper says hesitantly. “This isn’t some game to you, right? You don’t only want her because she turned you down. It’s not okay to mess with people like that.”

  “Jesus, Harp.” I slam my beer on the wooden table. “Really? That’s what you think about me? I was always up front with everyone I slept with. And I’m up front with Ava, too. I want more. With her.”

  Harper frowns. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be fifty by the time you were ready to settle down.”

  My phone chimes in my pocket. I take it out, expecting it to be one of my brothers. A smile takes over my face when Ava’s name pops up instead.

  Ava: Are you free?

  I stand from the table. “Be back.” I walk toward the water and hit dial.

  “Hello?”

  “Bluebonnet.” Her nickname spills from my lips at the sound of her voice. I’ve missed her soft, lilting tones. It’s only been a few days. I haven’t yet convinced her to take a chance on us, but she’s infiltrated every part of me. Her voice sounds off though.

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  “I’m at a friend’s house.” I take a few steps closer to the lake. The wind has calmed and the surface of the water is smoothing out before my eyes. I wish Ava were next to me gazing up at the star
s while I gazed at her.

  “Oh.” She’s barely said a word, but her voice sounds worse with each syllable.

  “What’s going on?”

  A sob breaks over the line.

  “Ava?”

  “Can—” Another sob breaks from her, and my chest sags open while my heart cracks in two. “Can you come over?”

  I race out of the house, goodbye barely out of my mouth before I’m pushing the pedal to the floor.

  Fifteen minutes later, I still haven’t taken in a full breath. My fist knocks against the door of her apartment, the black and orange wreath sporting spiders and bats rattling with each beat. Halloween not for another few weeks, but Lilly is excited to go trick or treating in my neighborhood.

  At the sound of Lilly crying, knocking turns to pounding. There could be anything on the other side of this door. I need to get on the other side of it, see both my girls with my own eyes.

  Come on, Ava, baby. Open the door. Open the door.

  Finally, after what feels like an hour of slamming my hand against the door, it opens. My heart freezes in my throat. Ava stands there, propped against the doorframe, her hand clutching it as if it’s the only reason she’s still standing. Her blond hair, which is usually free and curling down her back, is falling out of a bun on the top of her head.

  A long, wet stain is smeared across her shirt. Her eyes are red rimmed, bloodshot, and glassy. Her bottom lip quivers as she stares at me. My eyes roll over her from top to toe. Three times. After confirming that she’s okay, she’s without holes or broken bones or any other terrible thing that was torturing my mind on the drive over, I suck in a deep breath. My first real breath since she called.

  “Ava,” I whisper.

  Her gaze falls to her bare feet, a hand coming up to her face as her shoulders start to shake. I reach out, pulling her toward me until she crashes into my chest. My hand weaves into her tangled hair as my other arm bands around her back. Ava’s fists come up between us, resting on my chest. She cries harder when my lips land on the top of her head.