Page 28 of Worth the Risk

Hudson moves up and out of his chair to sit next to me, and he scooches the chair closer to me. He’s quick to take my hand and weave our fingers together. “What happened?”

A disruption, that’s what happened. Or at least it felt like it.

I feel a numb hole in my stomach from the thought. “Can we just leave it at that for now? But let’s just say that because of it, I’m even more cautious of what people may think. Besides, I buried myself in my career afterward, so I’ve moved on.”

“I won’t press, but it doesn’t matter what people think. For years, I was called a lot of things, when I played ball and now when I coach. Too good for some and not good enough for others, you can’t make everyone happy.” His thumb glides along my hand as we remain linked.

“I know, but I still struggle to believe that. Anyways, I thought I would mention it because for some reason it made sense to tell you. I wanted to tell you. But now I just want to enjoy the afternoon together.”

He smiles softly before kissing the curve of my shoulder gently, not caring that my skin is covered by my summer dress. “I’m getting to know you piece by piece. Normally I’m an all-at-once kind of guy, but for you, I think I could wait until I find every piece of your puzzle.”

That’s what I needed to hear, and it only makes me nuzzle my nose with his, eager to get back to his house.

* * *

Over lunch,we laughed and enjoyed our meal before we ordered another few rounds of soft drinks because the early summer afternoon is just too perfect. But after a few drinks, I desperately needed the ladies’ room, so I went to freshen up while Hudson settled the bill.

Returning to the table, I see that Hudson is talking to a little boy who looks to be about twelve.

“Next year, I’m in seventh grade, and I’m going to join the team as a linebacker,” the kid explains.

I set my sunglasses on my head as I watch Hudson sign a napkin. “You are going to love it, but just remember to have fun. It’s more important to play as a team than score. If you’re too focused on scoring, then you’ll never become a better player.”

“Okay. What about the Winds? Will they reach the championship this year?”

Hudson laughs as he hands over the napkin to the boy who is clearly a fan. “Maybe. Either way, we’ll play better than Wisconsin…” It earns him a laugh. I don’t know much about football, but I do know that the Riders are the bitter rivals.

Hudson’s eyes catch my own, and he quickly turns his attention back to the boy. “I think you’re going to do great with football if that’s something you enjoy. I’ll be too busy with football season, but I’ll tell Coach Goodwin over at the middle school which day to bring the team to watch practice.” He touches the boy’s shoulder and stands.

The boy’s smile is from ear to ear before he runs off.

I slowly step closer, feeling my heart melt a little. “A fan?”

“Yeah. I can’t say no to a kid. He was having lunch with his grandparents inside.” Hudson grabs his phone and wallet from the table to slide them into his back pocket. “Shall we head back?”

I nod slowly, and I know what question is about to burst out, but I couldn’t control it if I tried. “You want more children one day?”

“Oh, we’re onto this conversation already?” he teases me.

I poke a finger at him. “Funny.”

“Yeah. I do. I never got to do the baby/raising-a-little-human thing. I missed out. But I also know that a baby wouldn’t be a replacement for Drew. However, I’m very aware that at this rate I’ll be a grandfather before I’m a dad to a baby.”

“Okay,” is all I manage to say and grab his arm to drag him toward the exit.

But I know why I asked it. We have an age difference and that can sometimes mean we want different things in life, and while I am in no rush for kids now, or at least I don’t think I am, I want the option one day.

The drive back is quiet, but more so because the weather and scenery just make it the type of drive that is better when nothing is said. It’s peaceful and in truth lets me clear my thoughts.

Because later when Hudson is opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen while I change upstairs, I decide exactly what I want this evening.

As I walk into the living room, Hudson nearly drops the full glass of expensive champagne in his hand as he sits on the sofa. His eyes grow hungry as he watches me, surveys me, drinks in the view of my maroon satin nightie that barely covers my ass, and the thin straps fall off my shoulders when I move in a certain way.

I’m straddling him before he can speak. I plant a finger against his lips so he doesn’t let a word escape, and I take the glass from his hands, drink a quick sip, then set it on the side table next to the ice bucket that holds the bottle of champagne.

His eyes survey me up and down as he hisses a breath. “About time.”

I don’t get to speak because his mouth covers my own before I get the chance.

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