Oh.
“Fair enough,” I say. “One more thing though.”
“What now?” He stifles a chuckle, and I love the relief in his eyes. It gives me hope.
“No more secrets. No more lies,” I say. “Ever again. No matter what.”
“Deal.”
“And another thing,” I add.
“You’re not holding back with the contingencies, are you?”
“I want us to apologize to my parents. And yours,” I say. “Together.”
“Fair enough.”
“One last thing.” I lift on my toes, placing my hands on his shoulders and grinning. My body is ripe with anticipation, hungry with want.
“Okay …”
“Kiss me like you did the first time,” I say.
Hudson wastes no time, his mouth finding mine, claiming me as his while his hand slides along my jaw and the other circles my waist. I’m not sure if my feet are touching the ground or the butterflies in my stomach have any intentions of slowing down. All I know is he’s ruined me for any other man.
And now … after everything … I’m finally okay with that.
Forty-Four
Hudson
* * *
Mari stepping through the FLW house that night feels nothing short of surreal at this point, but after everything that’s transpired, I’m glad she’s here.
“Wright was known for horizontal lines and wide open floor plans,” I say. “Everything is supposed to feel organic, and as you’re standing outside, the house is meant to blend in with the flat, Midwestern prairie. There’s this sense of unity with his homes. Everything works together. Everything fits. It’s all very natural and a lot of people feel that this type of harmonious design—”
“—it’s beautiful,” she says, gushing as she moves from space to space, room to room. “I always thought this house looked so dark from the outside, but it’s not at all. There are so many windows.”
“The linear frames on the top half of the walls let in more light than you’d think.” I follow her. “Oh. Before I forget, I have to go back to the city tomorrow. I’ll be here every other week and any other time you need me. Why don’t you come with? We can go back and forth together.”
“That’s a lot of traveling.” She glances down, her hand on her stomach. “Maybe sometimes?”
“Why don’t you just move back with me?” I propose a greedy solution without so much as thinking it over, but it doesn’t matter. I want to be with this woman, and I’ll move heaven and earth.
Mari locks eyes with me, sucking her lower lip. “I don’t want to raise the baby in the city.”
“And why not?”
“I love the city.” She spreads her hand over her chest. “New York is everything. But it’s a different way of life, and I want this baby to grow up close to family, in a cozy little town that lives life a little slower. I don’t want to shuffle this kid up and down Manhattan from preschool interview to preschool interview and then wonder how the hell I’m going to afford rent and tuition.”
“Mari, it wouldn’t be like that,” I say, head tilted. “I’d take care of you. Both of you.”
“It’s kind of you to offer, but my mind is made up. I’m staying here.” Her eyes hold a mix of both sadness and hope. “I hope that doesn’t change anything … between us.”
Pulling her against me, I press my lips to the top of her head. “Never.”
Cupping her face, I lift her chin until her lips align with mine, then I taste their sweetness.
“In that case, there’s one room I wanted to show you.” I say.
Taking her hand in mine, I lead her past the kitchen and through the reading room, down a hallway and around a corner until we find a cozy bedroom on the east side of the house next to the master suite.
“Might be hard to imagine it now, but I thought this could be your nursery.” I look to Mari, waiting for her reaction and watching as disbelief registers on her face. “These windows are high enough so daylight will start to peek through just after sunrise in the morning. The sun sets in the west, so the room should be nice and dark in the evening. I don’t know much about babies or how they sleep, but I assume those things might help when you’re trying to establish some kind of bedtime routine.”
“Hudson …”
“The room’s big enough for a crib and a rocking chair,” I say, moving about. “You could put a changing table here. The closet is good-sized too. And you’re just a few steps away from the master.”
“I can’t live here,” she says, fighting a smile that tells me she’d do it in a heartbeat.
“I want you to,” I say. “I thought about selling it. And then I thought about donating it to some local historical society. But I decided earlier today that I want you to have it.”
“That’s too generous. I can’t. I’d love to. But I can’t.”
“Why not?” I scoff.
“You can’t just give me a house,” she says. “That’s insane.”
“It’s my gift to you,” I say. “Besides, you can’t live with your parents the rest of your life. You need a place to call your own—you and the baby. This house is perfect for a family. There’s a huge yard out back and a huge oak tree just waiting for a custom fort—which I’d be happy to design. Plus, you love this street. And you can’t put a price on history.”
“You don’t have to sell me on this house,” she says. “I know it’s going to be incredible by the time you’re finished. But you can’t just give it to me.”
“I can. And I am.”
She saunters up to me, playfully slapping my chest before rising on her toes and pressing her sweet mouth against mine.
“I don’t even know what to say right now.” Her eyes are lit from within, and she can’t stop grinning. “You’ll live here, too, right?”
“Do you want me to?”
Mari nods quickly, lips pulling wide as she slips her arms over my shoulders and rises on the balls of her feet.
Sliding my hands down her outer thighs, I pull her up and against me, carrying her to the next room where I’ve been sleeping when I’m here. There’s a queen-sized air mattress on the floor and canvas painter’s cloths covering the windows. A small lamp in the corner gives off just enough light, but I’m not concerned about the ambience or amenities right now.
Mari slides down my body, her fingers tugging at her clothes then mine before she falls to her knees and takes me in her mouth. Her free hand travels up my lower stomach, then higher, her nails digging into my flesh as she swirls her tongue around the tip of my aching cock, tasting the bead of precum as it forms.
Taking her time, she indulges me as if the pleasure’s all hers, but my impatience gets the better of me, and the craving of her taste on my tongue forces me to interrupt.
“Lie on the mattress,” I tell her, dropping to my knees and pumping my cock in my hands. The mere sight of this woman gets me hard as a fucking rock.