Page 57 of Stolen Bride for the Don

“I didn’t realize we were going on the water.”

He turns his body to face me. “Are you scared?”

“What?! Pfft. No, of course not.” I gulp. “It’s just thatIcan’tswim’.” I quickly mumble in hopes that he’ll drop it and move on.

“What did you say? I didn’t quite catch that.” But there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes that makes me believe he heard me, so I glare at him.

“I said that I can’t swim. So I’m a little…skeptical of going on the water.”

“You’re going to be fine. The boat is completely safe and Tom, our captain, is a competent sailor. He’s been doing it for decades.”

I hesitate, then follow him aboard the boat while expecting it to lurch forward and send me toppling to my untimely death. I guess now we know how to plot my fake death in a year. Hudson watches me flail my arms and grip the railing like my life depends on it, but he doesn’t breathe a word.

After a couple of minutes and nothing awful happens, I relax a little and stand up straight. Hudson smiles at me. “See? You’re okay.” He turns to one of the guys loitering on deck and tells them to get me a life jacket.

“That isn’t really necessary,” I tell him, embarrassed.

“Your reservation isn't about getting on the boat, but that you can’t swim. I don’t expect anything to happen, but I know the jacket will reassure you that even if we do capsize, you’ll at least be able to float. Trust me when I say that the jacket will relax you.”

I can’t argue with that logic. A tall, slightly chubby man comes on the deck to meet us. He introduces himself as Tom, our captain. Behind him is his wife, Mary, our hostess. They’ve been working on Hudson’s boat for years. Meeting the older couple actually does wonders for my worry, and I’m already smiling before the guy comes with the life jacket.

Hudson tucks me into the jacket quickly and efficiently, but by the time the last belt is secure, my heart is working overtime and a swarm of bees is attacking my belly. Not because of my fear of the water, no. He's so near that his warmth and scent are overwhelming my senses. When he finally takes a step back, I let out a breath of relief.

“Better?” he asks, and I nod “yes”. Between meeting Tom and Mary, and putting on the jacket, I feel ready to conquer the world. Dare I say, I’m even excited for the voyage.

“Have you never been on a boat then?” Hudson asks, leading me to a table set for two. He pulls out my chair.

“No, whenever the occasion called for it, I always had a convenient excuse not to go.” A cool breeze pushes the hair out of my face and I sigh, enjoying the fresh water smell and its light spray. The sun is starting to set, lending a magical quality to the evening.

“Why? I would think a woman like you would hate knowing there’s something you can’t do and actually learn how to overcome it.”

He’s not wrong. Alexander has a pool at his house, so I had several occasions to learn to swim. “I just give it much importance, I guess.” As a child, my fear of water was debilitating; I could barely take a bath in an inch of water without a meltdown, so swimming lessons were out of the question. Then as an adult, first I was so busy trying to break free of my family’s hold. Nothing was more important than being independent. Then I was busy with the Liquid Elixir.

I shrug. “For years, all that has mattered to me is independence. It may sound silly, but I just needed to prove that I could make it on my own without my family’s help.”

“And you did. That’s truly impressive. Did you always want to own a bar?”

“I wanted to be a fashion designer.” I chuckle and add, “Then I wanted to be a painter like the man I was named after. There was something almost romantic about being a starving creative, and I hungered for it.”

“I can certainly see why that would appeal to you.” Hudson smiles and tries to say more, but the boat jumps, and my eyes grow wide. My hands grab the dining table with a tight grip.

“You’re fine,” he assures me. He leans forward and places his large hands over mine. “What made you decide to get into bartending? It’s a far cry from a fashion designer or painter.”

I glam onto the topic, even though he might be asking this just to distract me. Nonetheless, I welcome the opportunity. “I don’t know. I’m a night owl.” I always have been, despite my mother’s dearest wish for me to go to bed and start the day bright and early like a civilized human, so a nocturnal job certainly had its appeal.

“The fact that I’d be able to interact with people every night matters. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m nosy and like to think I’m a good listener. That’s all a lot of people need to sort out their problems, you know–an unbiased ear to vent to. Being my own boss was always appealing to me. It was hard, and I made some serious mistakes in the beginning, but I love it now.”

By the time I’m done talking, I’ve released my grip on the table and am relaxed again. Huh. Hudson glances down at our joined hands and rubs his thumb over my ring.

“Your meal, sir,” our server says, placing a large seafood platter between Hudson and me. He glances between us and down at our hands, then scurries off. Hudson shifts his attention, taking his hands off mine. A pang of loss courses through me, and I shake it off. Stop getting attached, Andrea.

“Speaking of my bar, what do you expect to happen to it the year we’re married?” I ask forking a piece of shrimp. I dip it into cocktail sauce before popping it into my mouth.

Hudson shrugs and states, “If you don’t want it to remain closed, you could hire a manager and check in on them occasionally to see how things are going.”

“You mean I can visit Brattleboro?”

He shrugs again. “After we’re married, I don't see why not. I’ll go with you, of course.” Of course.

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