Page 35 of Waiting for Forever
Paige confided she’d told her mother about them just last week, and since then, her mom had been chomping at the bit to have them over for dinner. Paige was just as reluctant to endure that meal with her dad as Hudson.
When Hudson asked what her father thought about the two of them together, Paige grimaced and said her mother hadn’t told him, because “it wasn’t her place, it was Paige’s.”
That hadn’t happened yet, though Hudson suspected it had less to do with avoidance and more to do with the two of them working their asses off on the house before he started the courthouse project.
They’d put one hell of a dent in her list. Hudson had finished replacing all the old cast-iron pipes with PEX. Paige had served as his assistant for some of it. At other times, she tackled other projects on her own—primarily the living room.
It was the first officially finished room in the house, and it looked fucking amazing. Hudson had teased Paige about her YouTube training, but he had to admit she was a natural when it came to renovations. She was a hard worker, a meticulous house painter, and a tenacious floor sander. The woman was tireless.
While neither of them had brought up the future or said the “L” word yet, he felt certain the two of them were on the same page. He wasn’t sure what was holding Paige back. Perhaps it was her dad, or the fact things were going so fast.
It had been on the tip of Hudson’s tongue to tell Paige he’d loved her every night since that first one. But he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he didn’t deserve her love or forgiveness. He kept telling himself he wanted more time to prove he’d truly changed, that he could make Granddad’s business a success, that he could provide for her and any kids that might come along, that he could be a true partner.
That he was worthy of her.
Hudson sighed, putting thoughts of Paige aside so he could focus on the job at hand. Unrolling the designs they were working from, he studied them again as he looked around the courtroom.
The irony of this situation wasn’t lost on him, as he recalled the last time he’d stood in this room. He’d been a seventeen-year-old punk, arms crossed, scowling as Judge Sparks stared him down from the bench.
This project wasn’t just an opportunity for him to prove himself as a contractor, but for him to prove to the town—and even himself—that he wasn’t the same person anymore.
He was distracted from his recollections when someone cleared their throat behind him.
“Mr. Ryan.”
Hudson had made it two months, one week, and three days in Maris without coming face to face with Judge Sparks. Mainly because—according to Paige—the judge was a creature of comfort and simplicity, which meant his days consisted of work and home and church on Sunday, with the occasional city council or Lion’s Club meeting thrown in for good measure.
It looked like Hudson’s winning streak was over.
Turning, Hudson dipped his head just once in greeting. “Judge Sparks.”
“I must admit, I’d hoped to never see you in the courthouse again.”
Hudson thought he detected the tiniest bit of humor in the man’s tone, though who the hell could tell with the stoic judge. Regardless, he treated the words like a joke and grinned. “You and me both.”
“Your grandfather tells me you’ve done well for yourself in the years since you left Maris. Became a licensed plumber, I believe.”
Hudson nodded again. “I did.”
“And now you’ve returned home to take over your grandfather’s business.”
Hudson made a mental note to never play poker with Judge Sparks, because the man had a rock-solid lock on his emotions.
“I have.”
Silence fell between them for a moment, and Hudson realized that while he’d offered his apologies to two of his three teen targets, there were still amends to be made.
“I know you could have been tougher on me when I was a kid,” he admitted, recalling the judge’s punishments for his crimes. “I appreciate you never sending me to juvie.”
“Incarceration is rarely the answer, Mr. Ryan. Especially with young people. I’ve always believed it best to let the punishment fit the crime.”
In Hudson’s case, that meant repairing all the damage he’d done. He’d had to replace a window he’d broken at Hott’s Feed and Seed, repaint the entire beauty salon after spray painting inappropriate pictures on the side wall, and build Old Man Potter a new shed after the unfortunate joint-fueled fire.
“You know, Old Man…er, Mr. Potter’s shed was the first thing I ever built,” Hudson confessed. “It was the first time I’d ever done any kind of construction,” Hudson said, that truth only just occurring to him. “I liked it. Like building something from nothing with my own hands.”
“You clearly have a talent for construction. Bob Potter invited me out to his farm after you finished work on the shed. Said he was sorry you and Ronnie hadn’t burned down the barn, too.”
Hudson barked out a laugh, recalling Old Man Potter’s dilapidated barn. He was shocked that Judge Sparks would share that with him.
