Vow of Devotion (Vow Series Book 4) Page 7

  I relax into the chair and munch on an orange slice, thankful a tantrum or breakdown has been avoided for another day.

  An hour later, a heavy knock sounds through the apartment. I open the door, expecting Carmen, but it’s a food delivery driver. His bright blue T-shirt is wrinkled. There’s a white earphone hanging around his neck and the other is stuck in his ear.

  “I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong apartment. I didn’t order any food.”

  He glances down at the paper receipt in his hand while blowing out an exasperated breath through his lips. “Are you Ava Kincaid?”

  I edge the door closed an inch, blocking the inside of the apartment. “Yes?”

  “Here you go.” The deliveryman hands me an envelope and then a bag of food and turns.

  “Wait,” I call out, stepping into the breezeway. “What do I owe you?”

  “It’s taken care of,” he responds as he jogs sideways down the concrete stairs.

  I take the bag of food and the envelope into the apartment and set it on the kitchen counter. I open the envelope first. A thick piece of stationery falls out. It’s heavy white card stock with a linen texture. A thin, black border meets in two letters at the top.

  HW

  Hudson Wells.

  I place my hand over my stomach, trying to calm the racing butterflies.

  Every new Austinite needs to eat Torchy’s. Happy housewarming, friend.

  —Hudson

  I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop my lips from turning up. This can’t be happening. My heart shouldn’t be racing for a “friend.” My fingers skim over his initials at the top of the card.

  Steam rises from the bag when I open it. I peer inside and snort. There are enough tacos to feed us for a week. Either he thinks we’re carbo-loading for a marathon or he ordered the entire menu. I groan when I pull a to-go bowl from the bag and smell the queso. My weakness.

  Each wrapped taco is still hot as I take them from the bag and pile them on the counter. A mixture of smoky fajita, spicy jalapeno, and doughy tortilla scents hit me so hard my stomach growls. This is much better than the meal I planned for tonight.

  When I’m done piling the food on the counter, we have twenty-five tacos—twenty-five!—bowls of salsa, guacamole, and queso, and three bags of chips. There’s even a side salad, but with the taco feast in front of me, I’m not too concerned about eating enough greens tonight.

  Maybe I’ll take the salad for lunch tomorrow.

  No, I’m taking the leftover tacos.

  My finger taps against my lower lip as I stare at the tacos. My hand strikes out, grabbing my phone when I can’t ignore the smile anymore. This is a treat. Lilly and I don’t go out to eat often. I reserve that for special occasions or the rare time I can spare the cash.

  If Hudson were standing in front of me, my first urge would to be to kiss him. I’d want to properly thank him by tasting him before and after the tacos. My cheeks are flushed as I type out my message.

  Ava: They have Torchy’s in San Antonio.

  Hudson: It’s different when you’re in Austin.

  Ava: Thank you. How’d you know I didn’t want to cook tonight?

  Hudson: Because I’m your friend. ;)

  I shake my head and chuckle.

  Ava: It’s only been a day and you’re turning out to be a pretty decent friend.

  Hudson: I’ll be the best damn friend you’ve ever had.

  An ache hits me between my legs. A sensation I haven’t felt in a long time. Why do I feel like the word “friend” is turning into something dirty?

  Before I can reply, another knock sounds at the door. At the door, I find a short, curvy, older Hispanic woman. Her beautifully tan skin and dark hair highlight her amber eyes. A smile spreads across her face, accentuating the wrinkles lining the sides of her mouth.

  “So, you’re the girl who turned down my Hudson.”

  I balk, my mouth opening and closing, unsure what to say. She’s smiling, but did I offend her by declining a date with Hudson?

  Carmen starts laughing. “Good for you, chica. A woman saying no to him is exactly what that boy needs.”

  “Wh-what?” I stammer.

  “You are the first girl he’s actually interested in. That boy needs to learn to work for it. What he wants usually comes too easily.”

  This confirms my fear. He’s a playboy. A total playboy. That doesn’t matter though because we’re friends and it’s going to stay that way. My mom easily fell for the charms of men, and once they’d had their fill of her, they would leave her without looking back. I won’t repeat her mistakes.

  Anyhow, I’m not interested in him.

  Liar, my heart screams while my mind contradicts and plants a sign declaring stay away.

  “Come on in.” I sweep my arm, gesturing Carmen inside. “Which building are you in?

  “The one right next door. I’m in unit 3714.”

  “That’s great,” I respond with genuine happiness. If Lilly likes Carmen, which I don’t foresee being a problem, it’d be great to have someone so close in case of an emergency. Hudson is our only friend in the area, so I won’t be going out all the time, but it’s nice to have the option.

  Sometimes I need an afternoon by myself in a dark theater with a bucket of popcorn and chocolaty candy.

  Carmen sits on the floor next to Lilly and starts helping her with her art project, immediately winning her over. One of Carmen’s hands is anchoring the construction paper while Lilly smooshes glue over the surface. Carmen’s other hand is holding a taco. I sit in the kitchen, watching them bond while eating my own tacos. After Carmen leaves, Lilly starts asking when she can see Carmen again and if she can stay over for a slumber party.

  When I crawl into bed, I can’t resist one last text for the night.

  Ava: Carmen is a godsend. This has been the best day since moving to Austin and it’s because of you, friend.

  Chapter 11

  Hudson

  Hudson: Can I see you tomorrow?

  I stare down at the phone in my lap, waiting for a reply. It’s been ten minutes and still nothing. The game on the TV screen goes completely ignored by me. My attention is focused on the blank screen of my phone.

  Callan knocks his knuckles against the wall before coming into the room and slumping into the chair next to mine. I take the offered beer from his hand, wrapping my fingers around the cool neck.

  The low grinding noise of Callan’s teeth is audible over the sound from the TV. His eyebrows are pinched together and his hand is clutching his bottle tightly. “I’ll figure out what’s happening on the job site.”

  I twist off the top, tossing it into the trash can in the corner of the room, and take a swig. “It’s not your fault, man. We’ll figure it out.”

  “You’ve trusted me.”

  Callan has come a long way from the grumpy, angry Chicago transplant. He’s quickly become someone I trust. “I still trust you. I know this shit at the site isn’t you. You’re not the one stealing, and it’s not your fault.”

  This morning, Callan opened three different five-gallon paint jugs. Each was empty, with no explanation for where the paint had gone. Our numbers aren’t adding up and the shit keeps piling on with each new lot started.

  I’ve been ignoring Camden’s calls since he discovered the missing drywall. I know he’s combing through the files on my computer to see if I’m ordering more material because I’m mismanaging the site. The truth is worse: the stuff is growing legs and walking off.

  “Callan, we’ll figure it out.” My family’s constant contact and the looks they’re giving me, as if this is going straight to hell, is stressing me out. The added problem of theft makes it feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest, but this is my problem, not Callan’s.

  “It’s my responsibility. You put me in charge of each of the guys.”

  “Don’t take this on, brother.”

  He grunts, but changes the subject. I’m happy to let him. “How’d your
baby plan work out?”

  “Great. I borrowed Caden and he charmed her. She agreed to hang out with me as friends.” I want to pump my fist in the air. I made progress with Ava today. I have her number and potential plans to see her. I want it to happen tomorrow.

  Callan snorts, twisting the cap off his bottle. “Think you can really be her friend?”

  “I’m going to try.” I don’t know what it is about Ava or why I’m so completely drawn to her. All I know is I want to peel back her layers, know every inch of her body, and simply be with her. No, I don’t want it. I need it. “I sent her Torchy’s to welcome her to Austin.”

  “Damn, man. Should I be offended you didn’t take Brae and me to Torchy’s when we moved in? Are we not special enough?”

  Callan flicks his bottle cap at me, laughing.

  I punch his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “When are you hanging out with her?”

  “Tomorrow, if I have any say in the matter.” I look at my phone again, bringing the screen to life.

  No messages. I scrub a hand over my face, my scruff scratching against my palm.

  “Carmen is going to babysit her daughter.” I open my messages app, checking to make sure I didn’t miss a notification or dismiss it on accident. Fuck. I’m turning into a teenage girl.

  I force the phone back down onto my lap. Callan’s eyes are on my phone until they meet mine. He smirks. “No shit?”

  “Yeah, they live in the same complex.”

  The smile slides off of Callan’s face. He rubs his hand along the back of his neck and squeezes hard, emphasizing the tension in his shoulders.

  “What’s going on?” I sit up straighter in my chair, pushing the mute button on the remote.

  “There’s a two-bedroom opening up in Carmen’s building. Right across the breezeway from her. I put in an application today. Who knows if I’ll actually get it, but it’s time for Brae and me to get out of your hair.”

  “You can stay here as long as you want. You’re not an issue and neither is Brae. I love that kid.”

  Callan nods. “ ’Preciate it, man. But I need to get us our own place. You haven’t charged me rent and I finally have enough stashed away that I can really do this. I need to do this for us.”

  I take a drink of my beer, washing away the disappointment. Callan and Brae brought life into my house. But this is something he deserves and something he’s worked hard to provide for Brae. “Understood. When?”

  “Unit opens up in a month. I should hear back about the application in a few days or so. Carmen put in a good word for me at the front office, so hopefully they’ll overlook the shit on my background check.”

  “Dude, you got custody of your younger sister and a steady job at the most profitable construction company in the city. They’d be fools to turn you down.”

  Callan keeps his past mafia life quiet, but he came forward about his record when I offered him a job. He was too honorable to take it without coming clean to me, but it’s just a few misdemeanors that he worked off with community service. The fact that it tarnishes his name isn’t something he is willing to let go, however.

  “They don’t know me. They only see what’s on paper. That shit will mark me for the rest of my life. You hired me and let me live here because James is like family to you.”

  This is true. Or at least, it was initially. James is like a brother to me. And James considers Callan like his brother, therefore he’s mine as well. We take care of our own. Callan’s love for his sister, his dedication to every job, his honesty and strength made me admire him. He gives Brae everything he never had and makes me damn proud to call him family.

  “You’re always welcome here, man.”

  “Thanks,” Callan says, squeezing the back of his neck. I know it hasn’t been easy for him to accept everything our group has given him. I hope one day he’ll get used to having people at his back who care about him and his sister.

  When my phone dings, I type my password wrong three times before I get it right.

  Ava: Tomorrow is Sunday. For this mom and teacher, that means it’s a day of work getting ready for the next day and I go to sleep early.

  I blow a breath through my lips. Fuck.

  My phone chimes again.

  Ava: If Carmen is available next Friday, how about that drink?

  Carmen will be free. Even if I have to pay her to cancel plans with her bingo buddies and be available. I’ll do it.

  Hudson: Can’t wait.

  Chapter 12

  Ava

  I collapse against the empty wall in my closet, staring at the clothes hanging across from me. I told myself I wouldn’t let myself get distracted by him, but it’s been a long week at school where things are getting better at the speed of a turtle. Going out with Hudson tonight is a little bit of a treat for me. What am I supposed to wear on a non-date with a friend that I’m attracted to as way more than a friend?

  Hell, I don’t even have date clothes. I scrub my hands down my face. I should’ve already done my hair and makeup, but my hair is still in a clip and my face only has moisturizer on it. I’m running out of time.

  Carmen showed up two hours ago, taking Lilly to her apartment. Two hours I should’ve been using to get ready, but instead, I wasted a good portion of that pacing the floor in front of my bed and mindlessly scrubbing the already clean kitchen counter. What am I doing? Can I actually hang out with Hudson “as friends”?

  I know he wants more.

  I want more.

  I haven’t had sex since the night Lilly was conceived. I’m hardly a virgin, and Wes wasn’t my first time. It’s just been a long time. After Lilly, I was so consumed with motherhood and finishing school that I didn’t even think about it. That part of myself mostly lay dormant, but now it’s awake.

  The fingers Hudson used to skim my shoulder at the zoo have been on my mind. His rough hands and strong wrists. Every outfit I stare at, I think about the places he could caress me with those fingers.

  And I shouldn’t.

  This is not a date. Why do I keep having to remind myself of that fact?

  “Choose something,” I scold myself. I groan, raking my hand through my hair. I take a deep, settling breath and approach my clothes again.

  A light pink top I bought for school catches my eye. It’s sleeveless with buttons up the front, completely appropriate for work, but it can also be sexy if I don’t button it up as high as I normally do. That top would work perfectly with my favorite pair of jeans.

  The pair of jeans every girl has. The pair that makes every curve irresistible.

  A weight lifts from my shoulders when I place the outfit on the bed and go into the bathroom. Pinching the clip and letting my hair fall, I take inventory and breathe another sigh of relief. It’s not bad at all. I’ll need to smooth a few places with my curling iron, but really it dried nicely.

  I rush through my makeup process, keeping it light and simple. I’m swiping on light pink gloss when Hudson knocks on the door.

  When I open it, he takes my breath away. His jeans are tight over his muscular thighs, highlighting their power. His deep gray Henley is tight across his chest and shoulders.

  “Hey, bluebonnet.”

  My head tilts to the side. “Bluebonnet?”

  “Your eyes,” he says. “They’re the exact shade of bluebonnets.”

  I laugh. “I think that’s the most Texan comparison I’ve ever heard.”

  Hudson’s smile is charming as he shrugs. “What can I say? Texas runs deeps in my veins.”

  I laugh again.

  “Bluebonnets are kind of my good luck charm.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll tell you about it at dinner. Are you ready?”

  I grab my purse from the entryway table. “Ready.”

  Hudson stands close to me with his hand on my lower back as I lock the door. He keeps his hand in that position as he escorts me down the stairs and all the way to his truck. My sk
in breaks out in goose bumps when his thumb caresses my back in a slow stroke. When his hand falls away to open the passenger door, the heat lingers.

  “Mind if we make a pit stop on our way to dinner?” he asks.

  “Not at all.”

  Hudson grins and puts the truck in reverse. Those damn butterflies come back every time I catch him glancing at me during our ride. Hudson’s low, gritty voice sings along with Dylan Scott on the radio. An adorable Texas twang I haven’t heard from him comes out with “My Girl.”

  The defenses I shored up against him are crumbling down around me, and the excuses running through my head don’t seem to matter as much as they did earlier.

  Hudson pulls into a new neighborhood development. There aren’t any houses yet and there’s no sign on the neighborhood entrance.

  “Do you plan to bury me out here or something?” I ask. The neighborhood is sitting near the top of a hill. There aren’t many other neighborhoods up here.

  “If I did that, I wouldn’t have anything pretty to look at.”

  I scoff. “Is it normally that easy for you? A smooth line and that’s all it takes?”

  Hudson parks, turns off the truck, and scrubs his hand over the back of his head. His lips push together as if he’s holding in a laugh.

  “Stay there,” he says as he gets out of the truck and jogs around to my side. I’ve just unclicked my seatbelt when the door opens. I hop down with Hudson’s help. His hands clutch on my hips and there’s a sliver of space between us. My hands fist at my sides. I refuse to lay them on his chest.

  Friends.

  We’re friends.

  His eyes roam all over my face before pausing and locking on my lips. His tongue wets his bottom lip and his thumbs move under my top and brush along my hip bones.

  “Yeah,” he says. “I won’t lie, it’s usually pretty easy for me.”