Page 122 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

No, I need Hudson.

“No more talking now,” Natalie adds. “Just rest.”

“She’s right.” Hudson’s hand is still entwined with mine. His grip is strength and security in physical form. “You just keep healing. You’re safe with me.” With his free hand, he reaches out to tenderly stroke my chin. “I’m not going anywhere. If you fall asleep again, I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”

I blink, darting my gaze between Natalie and Hudson. There’s so much more I want to know, things I’d like to ask, and stuff I don’t quite understand. But I’m also exhausted, and I trust Hudson with my life.

He’s taking care of me.

He cares.

“Don’t leave me,” I whisper.

“Never,” he says.

So I shut my eyes and surrender to dreams of stethoscopes and Jell-O.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Hudson

When Liv is finally set up in her new room, the space is definitely more comfortable than the ICU. There are two bright windows offering a third-floor view of … well, the parking lot, but still. Just the fact that Olivia’s awake and stable makes everything seem sunnier.

Francine Tomlin’s flowers—which I have mixed feelings about—are on a shelf now next to the small, private bathroom. That’s right. Liv’s got her own toilet and sink.

Quite the perk.

I stay by her bedside holding her hand until Mac gently points out I haven’t showered in a longer amount of time than is generally recommended for human beings with armpits. This makes Liv laugh. Man, I love that sound—more than ever before. She insists she’ll be fine if I go back to The Beachfront to clean up. Check on things. Rest.

Like I’m going to take a nap at the inn while she’s still stuck in the hospital.

Fat chance.

But Mac promises he, Darby, and Tess will hold down the keep-Liv-company fort until either her mom arrives or I get back to the hospital. In other words, Olivia McCoy won’t be alone.

And that’s all that matters to me.

So I take the opportunity to return to The Beachfront. I meet with the Johnsons to update them on Liv and make sure everything’s still good with the reopening. Then I grab my first shower since Saturday morning.

I won’t lie. The hot water does wonders for me. As it turns out, sleeping in a chair next to a hospital bed and beeping monitors—not to mention nurses checking Liv’s vitals every few hours—wasn’t so great for my skeletal system. Or my muscles. After the shower, I feel like a new man, ready to tackle anything. Whatever kind of recovery Olivia will require.

Whatever the inn will require.

Whatever the future holds in general.

First things first, we’ve got a new employee who will be manning the registration desk and also lifeguarding. He needs orientation at the beach, so I meet him down by the lake to run through all our waterside procedures and protocols.

His name’s Logan. Nice kid. New in town. He shows up in a pair of red board shorts and a sun visor over slightly-too-shaggy brown hair. He’s a quick learner. Eager to work. Reminds me of me at his age.

Which feels like a lifetime ago.

After Logan leaves, with instructions to come back Saturday morning for his first official shift, I climb the lifeguard tower and settle in on the lookout perch. I haven’t been up to the top in a good long while. The last time I worked here as a lifeguard, Olivia was in town too, as part of a bridal party, frolicking on the beach. Beautiful. Bubbly. Not a care in the world.

At least that’s what I thought.

She seemed ravishing then, but also reckless. A woman I should absolutely steer clear of. I had no idea who she really was underneath that beautiful shell. And if you’d told me that in a few years she’d become the most important person in my life, I wouldn’t have believed you.

But it’s the truest of truths.

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