Page 83 of The Promises We Break

I enjoy my share of that genre. I can lip sync a couple of Green Day songs, and Blink-182 had some good ones, but they were way before my time. Some days I feel like Hudson half lives for their lyrics.

His brother is right, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Plus, getting lost in music sounds like an amazing distraction today.

I caution my steps and round the corner, and both Hudson and Grant crane their necks in my direction, stopping any further conversation. Hudson slaps the envelope onto Grant’s chest, giving him back what I assume are the tickets and a pointed look.

“Good Morning, Ember.” Hudson’s mother, who I have only talked to on the phone with Hudson, smiles at me, setting down the towel she was drying her hands with, and opens her arms as she walks toward me.

“Good Morning.” A genuine smile grows on my face as she embraces me in a cozy hug.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she says, walking back to the stove.

“I could definitely eat,” I reply, looking over at Hudson, then turn to Grant. “Hi, I’m Ember.” I give a shy wave.

Grant lunges at me, wrapping me in a hug as he picks me up and twirls me around.

“Dude…” Hudson says.

Grant is definitely a playful one, and it makes me giggle.

“Can’t help it, I’m a hugger.” He shrugs after he sets me down.

“Me too.” My laugh still lingering.

I step up to the breakfast bar, lifting one leg on the barstool as I push myself onto the seat.

“What are you guys up to?” I ask, as Hudson slides a cup of coffee my way.

“Nothing much,” Hudson quips quickly before Grant can say anything.

“That’s interesting,” I sip my coffee, “because it sort of sounded like you were trying to cock block me from going to a concert today?” Grant’s eyebrow ticks up with the corner of his mouth, and Hudson’s jaw slacks as his eyes glance over his shoulder back at his mom.

Christ. The woman literally just hugged me and I completely forgot she was in the room. A blush of embarrassment forms on my cheeks for inappropriate use of the word cock in front of her. Jesus, my recent job requirement of the use of any and all sexual innuendos is wearing off into real life way too easy and far too uncensored.

“I apologize, Mrs. Byrnes.” Palming my face.

“Oh, no need to apologize, my dear. I’m glad someone is trying to talk some sense into my son.” That makes me smile.

“Hey, I was trying to,” Grant whines to all of us. That makes me smile, too, and damn, it feels good.

Hudson’s fixed stare doesn’t leave mine.

His brows pinch together ever so slightly, as he mouths, “You sure?”

The look of vulnerability kills me. Other than asking me for that one favor earlier this year—you know, that little favor of being his wife—he’s literally asked me for nothing and done everything for me. A part of me feels like he has catered to me because of guilt, that I agreed to stay married to him, but I’ve realized… that’s just Hudson.

He gives and hardly ever takes. He wants my happiness more than his own. He would never force me to go to this concert, no matter how much he wants to go himself, nor would he even consider leaving me alone for it.

I want nothing more than to go with him. His happiness will definitely feed mine. And I think we both need that today.

“Oh, we’re going. My only requirement is breakfast and I’m all in.”

“Yesssssssss!” Grant’s arms fly over his head then slap Hudson on the back so hard he winces.

The smile that forms on Hudson’s face after, though, it’s worth its weight in gold.

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