Page 71 of Pieces

“It’s a surprise,” he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice. “Come on, Daph. Put some shoes on and let me do this.”

I sigh, but it’s not from annoyance. Far from it. It’s from something softer, something that feels like relief because I’m about to let him have control over my day. “Give me five minutes.”

When I make it outside, Hudson leans against his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest, his hoodie slightly wrinkled like he threw it on in a rush. His dark blonde hair is a little messier than usual, losing that golden glow from the summer sunshine. The faint shadows under his eyes confirm what he told me about being tired And yet, when he sees me, his smile lights up his whole face. “Morning, princess.” He moves toward me, and I tingle all over, wondering if he might just kiss me. I think I’d let him. No, I know I would. But instead, he looks down at my belly and says, “Morning, baby.” And my heart somersaults.

Don’t cry because he’s being sweet. Don’t cry. He’s just saying hello. Stupid hormones. Biting the inside of my cheek I smile. “Morning.” I manage, keeping my voice clear.

“Here.” He holds out the drink, keeping one for him that looks more like coffee. When I take it, our fingers brush. His grin doesn’t falter, and there’s something warm in his expression that has my pulse fluttering. Yeah, I’m trying really hard not to crush on my baby daddy, but that smile, this drink, him saying morning to our unborn child, just being here, it’s all making me slip down a very slippery, stupid slope that I can’t seem to stop. Jesus, I’ve gone through a lot of emotions and it’s barely 10 a.m.

The frappe is just as ridiculous as he promised, cold, sweet, drowning in whipped cream and chocolate. But it’s not the drink that makes my stomach do an unexpected little flip. It’s him. “Mmm,” I moan around the straw, and his throat clears. “That’s really good.” Lowering the cup, I lick a stray bit of whipped cream from my lip, and when I glance up at him, his eyes are locked on my mouth. His throat bobs as he swallows hard.

“Good, huh?” he says, voice rougher than before.

I nod and take another sip, just to see where this goes. Testing the waters again.

His fingers tighten around his own cup. “I’m just a man, Daph. A simple, weak man. And you…” he trails off. He’s called me Daph before. Princess, too, but something about him feeling comfortable enough to use that nickname too, gives me butterflies.

“I…what?” I encourage him to finish his sentence.

He shakes his head, running his tongue along his teeth before leveling me with a look that makes my stomach flip again. “You’re killing me…in the best way.”

I smile at that. Then take another sip, watching the way his jaw clenches and wonder how long it’ll take before he does something about it.

He mutters something before he opens the door for me, stepping aside, and even something small like that is making me want to cry and throw myself at him all rolled into one emotion. “Thanks,” I say as I brush past him into the passenger’s seat.

When he slides into the driver’s seat, the space instantly feels smaller. The faint scent of his cologne, sweet and spicy, lingers in the air, mixing with the chill from outside. I sip the frappe, but this time to enjoy it, not tease him, letting the chocolate and whipped cream melt on my tongue, and despite the fact I have zero control over what’s happening today, I feel my shoulders loosen a little.

He fiddles with his phone, and just as he pulls onto the road, Gracie Abrams filters through the speakers. Not just any song either, my favorite one. I glance over to him, wondering if he did it on purpose, if he remembered. I study his profile, the casual way his hand rests on the wheel, the slight curve of his mouth.

As if feeling my gaze, he glances at me too. Then he winks.

He remembered.

I bite down a smile, turning back to the window as the music wraps around us.

“So, where are we going?” I ask needing a distraction from the warmth in my cheeks.

“It’s a place I used to go as a kid,” he says, turning onto the road. “Still in Oregon. Near the border of Idaho, my hometown. It’s a couple of hours away, but trust me, it’s worth it.”

When we finally pull up to wherever we are, it’s even more stunning than I imagined. I grew up in Oregon, sure not this far east but still, this place is beautiful. The lake stretches out like a mirror, reflecting the jagged peaks of the mountains and the dense pine trees that frame the horizon.

Hudson parks the car on a gravel patch near the perfect view of the water and turns off the engine, letting the stillness settle around us. I lean forward, peering through the windshield at the scene before me. “This is beautiful,” I murmur. “What’s it called?”

“Aurora Valley,” he says. “My mom named my sister after this place.”

I turn my head to look at him, remembering him mentioning the night we met he had a sister. “Your sister’s name is Aurora?”

He nods, and we both exit the car, walking to the trunk as he pulls out a thick plaid blanket. “Yeah, but we call her Rory.”

“And they still live here?”

“Yeah, just the other side of town. When she found out she was having a girl, there was no question. She said she wanted my sister to carry a piece of this place with her, no matter where she ended up.”

I blink at him, momentarily speechless. “That’s…really beautiful,” I say quietly.

We start walking toward the lake, the chill nipping at my skin. I instinctively pull my coat tighter, and Hudson notices, stopping mid-step to unwrap the plaid blanket in his arms. Beneath it, there’s another, a softer, fluffier one.

“Here,” he says, coming up beside me. Without waiting for a reply, he drapes it over my shoulders, his hands brushing against my arms as he makes sure it’s secure. “Figured you might get cold, so I brought extra.”

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