Grandpa came around the counter and took Hudson into his arms. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Hudson Wilde. I don’t say it enough, but you are an incredible man.”
I could hear the emotion in his voice and glanced at Doc. His eyes were suspiciously damp also. I turned away and tried to blink back my own tears. This family and their love. It was unbelievable.
Hudson pulled away from Grandpa with a cough. “Enough. It’s no big deal. What’s for dinner? It smells amazing.”
Grandpa and Doc let Hudson change the subject, but I noticed them continue to sneak assessing glances of him throughout the evening, as if looking at him through a new lens. I couldn’t imagine what they were thinking right now, but I also knew they’d do anything to keep Hudson from being self-conscious about it. They had to know how very unlike him it was to share such personal information about himself before he was quite sure.
We spent the evening in good company. Grandpa told us about how old he’d felt that day chaperoning Pippa’s class trip to a nearby petting zoo, and Doc showed us a baby announcement he received in the mail from one of his old patients. “Can you believe I delivered this baby’s grandfather? Talk about something making you feel old.”
When it was time to go, Hudson glanced at me. “I’m going to go check on the horses. Don’t set the dogs on me when I come into the bunkhouse, all right?”
“I’ll try to refrain from settin’ the dawgs on ya,” I said in my best efforts at his Texas drawl.
Hudson Wilde winked at me and damned near caused me to trip over my own feet. Grandpa must have noticed my reaction, because he let out a wolf whistle. “Kiss the man before you leave him, son. What the hell’s the matter with you?” he teased.
Hudson strode back from the direction of the door and planted one right on me, leaning me back until I had to throw my arms around his neck to keep from falling to the floor. The kiss left no doubt as to the way things were between us.
Hot. They were hot.
A woman’s voice called out from behind us. “Hudson?”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. It was Darci. All the blood had drained from her face, and she looked like she was reframing her entire life instead of one man’s sexual identity.
Hudson’s eyes closed for the briefest of moments before he smiled down at me. I tried not to interpret his affectionate look for something more than it was.
“I’m going to go talk to her,” he said softly, standing me back on my feet. “I’ll meet you back in the bunkhouse.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead before walking toward Darci. As the two of them left the house together, my heart went out to her. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to catch Hudson kissing someone else instead of me.
Once the two of them were gone, I turned back to give my own thanks to Doc and Grandpa but found them staring at me intently.
“That was awkward,” I said nervously. If there was ever a reason for them to reject me, it would be this. I hadn’t intended to come into the Wilde family and fuck everything up.
Doc walked forward and gave me another one of his big hugs. I wanted to sob with relief, but I squeezed my eyes closed to keep the emotion from coming to the surface.
“She wasn’t the right one for him, Charlie,” he said. “It’s fairly obvious now, isn’t it?”
Grandpa snorted.
“Is this where you question my intentions?” I asked with a sniffle. “You both look like you have a million questions.”
“It goes without saying you’d better not hurt him,” Grandpa began with a smile.
“What are your intentions?” Doc asked.
I intend to shag him to sleep tonight and start all over again at daybreak.
I swallowed. “I’ve been assuming I’m some kind of experiment for him. Honestly, I’m a bit more concerned with his intentions than my own.”
“He’s a fairly careful person. Not really the type to try something on if he hasn’t thought long and hard about it first,” Grandpa mused.
“It would seem that way. But the fact remains he wants the American Dream. The pretty wife, the well-behaved children, the picket fence,” I said. “He can’t have those things with me.”
Doc’s eyes lit up. “Sure he can, only instead of a pretty wife it would be a pretty husband. Don’t forget who helped raise him, son.”
I shook my head. “He’s a bit too traditional for that, I’m afraid. He’s had this picture in his head his whole life. I think he emulates his father. He mentioned that was who advised him about going into finance. Did you know he wanted to be a rancher like you?” I looked at Hudson’s grandpa. “But he thought his father expected him to be some kind of junior version of himself. Finance, responsibility, looking after the family. I wonder if he’s ever done anything spontaneous or just for him.”