Hudson's Luck (Forever Wilde 4)

“I land in Dallas tomorrow night late. I thought I might stay over at Saint’s and drive to Hobie first thing Saturday morning. I’ll call you when I get settled at Saint’s though, if that’s alright? Around nine thirty?”

My heart sank. I’d hoped he’d drive to Hobie directly from the airport regardless of the hour.

“Okay. Everything going well in Chicago?” I asked.

“Yes. Exciting things going on here. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“You sound happy,” I said, picturing the smile on his face I could hear in his voice.

“I am. Very happy. But I’d be happier if I was with you.”

After we ended the call, I felt even worse. I’d hoped he’d ask how I was. I guess I’d hoped for anything other than to talk about his job, the job I was fairly certain would kill him softly.

But I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I couldn’t very well expect him to talk about our relationship while he was in some corporate office building in Chicago. I’d be patient and wait until our nine-thirty call.

Only, when nine thirty came, the phone never rang.

45

Hudson

Hudson’s Revelation:

You snooze, you lose.

My flight was canceled, and I wound up rebooked on another airline. When we finally approached DFW, we circled in the air for three more hours. I understood the weather delay, but every moment we remained up in the air, my stomach clenched harder with nerves over telling Charlie about the tap ring deal.

I didn’t want him to feel pressure from me. Plus, what if all of this was too much too soon? What if I was reading more into his feelings for me than there was? And what if he had no interest in moving to Hobie and running the pub?

We landed after midnight. I knew Charlie had to have been exhausted from working late the night before, so I assume he’d long since fallen asleep.

Should I wake him?

I wondered if I could make the trip to Hobie this late at night without falling asleep. Maybe I could slide into bed next to his warm body and hold him until morning.

Otto’s stories of responding to motor vehicle accidents popped into my head. He’d lectured me time and again about how dangerous the roads were late at night. Better not chance it.

My phone’s text alert chimed when I turned off Airplane Mode. Bing, bing, bing, bing.

Shit.

I hit the button to call him, but it went straight to voicemail.

I took a breath and checked the texts to see how much trouble I was in. They started out timid, asking where I was and if the flight was delayed. Then they became more worried until finally there was a thread of frantic scrambling in his tone.

If you’ve died in a crash, I’m never forgiving you!

The internet said your plane never left. Please tell me you’re asleep in a hotel bed in Chicago and just didn’t care about me enough to let me know you weren’t coming home or had changed your flight.

It’s storming here, I’m pretty sure you crashed. Asshole.

Oh hell.

Finally, the last one was the worst.

I can’t handle this. I’m turning off my phone. If you’re miraculously alive tomorrow, lose my fucking number. I love you and I hope you’re okay.

It was enough to wake me fully for the long drive to Hobie, but I couldn’t let my panic force me into an irresponsible decision. I texted him.

I’m safely in Dallas. It’s too late to drive up there, but I will leave first thing in the morning. I love you and I’m sorry.

I expected Saint to be asleep or out of town, but he was sitting on the sofa when I entered the apartment. He looked as tired as I felt.

“Hey,” I said, dropping my bag by the door.

“You’re back late. Was it the storm?”

“I guess.” I dropped into the sofa next to him. “I hope it’s okay if I stay tonight. It’s too late to make that drive.”

“Fuck that. If I had a man that pretty waiting for me in my bed, I’d be hotfooting it home right now.”

“Do you know how many fatal accidents happen on highways in the middle of the night? It’s not safe.”

Saint blinked at me. “I’m worried about you, Hudson.”

“Why?” I asked, even though I knew.

“Doc and Grandpa called. They said Charlie’s a mess.”

My heart leapt into my throat. I was such an ass. “He thinks I died in a plane crash. He hates flying.”

“He booked his flights home. He decided to leave before it’s too late to travel with Mama.”

“What? When? Are you kidding?”

I wondered if I might throw up. He was giving up on me because I’d never told him what I was working on. Because I was too scared to run off half-cocked without a plan to present to him.