Page 87 of Paper Horses

The simple differentiation left my pulse thundering. A gleam of hope grew in the back of my mind that I could keep her, that I wouldn’t lose her this time. If I did, there was no way I’d survive.

Chapter 21

Liv

The country yellow quilt on the bed didn’t bother me as I cleared the last of my things from it. I’d asked Hudson for a few minutes alone when we’d returned, and he had swept me into his arms and carried me to his spare room.

“You don’t have to carry me everywhere,” I’d said, slapping his chest.

“If it makes you smile, I’m doing it.” He’d kissed my cheek and jogged back down the stairs, leaving me there to shake my head and consider why my mind was a sludge of thoughts and confusion.

The confidence I had earlier had fled, an uncomfortable sensation taking its place. Hudson was right. I’d been trying to please him by being something I wasn’t. As I hung my clothes in the small closet, smoothing my fingers over the silk and satin, the hand-stitched seams, the leather tips of my heels, that confidence returned. This was who I was. Someone who loved the finer things and reveled in her power. But I was also the parts that Hudson had brought out. The woman who loved to experience the wind on her face, racing across the open land on horseback, sketching as the sun settled behind the mountains.

Two sides of the same woman. I’d tried hiding them from each other, leaving the perfect daughter behind when I’d been at school, leaving the wild spirit behind when I’d returned to my father’s side. But I’d never let them live in harmony. Maybe that was the key. Admitting that there were imperfections, that my mask was only a shield to keep myself divided from the parts of myself I didn’t like. The parts that reminded me of what I’d lost. Of Hudson.

A rap on the door had me swiveling to see it opening. Hudson stood in the doorway, his back against the doorframe. It occurred to me that I may have sifted through the clothes, putting aside the ones that pushed my comfort too much, but I’d left them all in this room. Like I needed a divide between us and what awaited me. A line that delineated the due date that hung over us.

Hudson’s brow raised, his lips lifting in a smirk that had me squeezing my legs. “Those aren’t pajamas. Those are temptation.”

I glanced down at the set I was wearing: short black silk bottoms paired with a matching silk tank that hung loose on my frame. I’d been planning to throw a wrap over it, but from the way Hudson’s eyes were devouring me, I suspected nothing was covering my exposed skin but him. A shudder passed through me, and that smirk grew.

“Come on, I made dinner and I’ve got one of those boring movies ready for us.”

“Great. If you wanted to put me to sleep, you could have just sent me upstairs with a glass of wine.”

“Trust me, you won’t be sleeping because I don’t plan on paying that movie any attention.”

A laugh fluttered from me, and I thought of how little I’d laughed since I’d cut him from my life. It felt good, and I didn’t think I wanted to go without laughing again.

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

His hand laced over the doorframe, and he leaned into the room, his shirt pulling from his pants and exposing his sexy abs. He was yummy, and I thought maybe dinner could wait.

“Don’t put anything over that outfit, Olivia. It won’t be on long enough, anyway.”

“You’re naughty.”

“Yup, but I’m your naughty.”

I tilted my head, studying him and getting lost in those rich chestnut eyes. “Yes, you are, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am. Get your ass downstairs before I lose my patience and drag you down caveman style.”

“Brute,” I mumbled as he left the room.

I took a minute to pull my hair up into one of those messy buns Tori liked to wear, thinking it didn’t look half bad before I made my way downstairs. The kitchen smelled like pizza, and I leaned on the island as I watched Hudson slice a thin-crust pepperoni pizza. A bottle of beer and a glass of red wine stood to the side.

“Boxed wine, frozen pizza, and pepperoni? You’re out to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No way. All the preservatives in these will make you live longer.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” I teased, reaching for the wine. I swirled it, letting it breathe before sniffing it. His hands stopped their movement, his eyes fixing on me. “You’re really making me do this?”

He said nothing, his gaze focused like a cat ready to attack its prey.

“Fine,” I huffed before taking a sip of the wine. “Oh, that’s not bad.” I swiped my tongue over my teeth, letting the taste linger.

“Good, and it’s not boxed.” He nodded to the counter where a bottle of merlot sat with the corkscrew next to it. “I may have moved to the country, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all my roots.”