Roughing It

23. Hudson

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

hudson

I stroke Blakely’s hair as whiskey burns my throat, and the flickering fire casts golden shadows on her face. Our conversation yesterday, the orgasms I wrang out of her this morning, and her excitement over making fire left her worn out. She’s passed out cold, her head resting in my lap.

While savoring another drink, I watch her breathe. Soak in the fluttering of her eyelashes. When the first soft snore escapes her lips, I smirk. So noisy.

The familiar and incessant buzzing of Blakely’s phone draws me away from studying the masterpiece that is her face. Glancing at the screen, the word Hawthorne catches my attention. Gritting my teeth, I ignore the first two calls, but when it vibrates a third time, my patience snaps.

“What?” I answer the phone with a snarl.

“Who the hell is this?” The voice on the other end is slurred and weathered.

Dropping my voice, I slip Blakely’s head out of my lap and onto a couch cushion. “Pretty sure you know,” I say as I quietly pace in front of the fire. I have no desire to talk to this woman any longer than necessary, but I have a couple of things to get off my chest. And the inclination to put Brandee Shaw in her place for hurting Blakely. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

A rough snort sounds. “What’s it matter to you? This is private business.”

“So private you put it all over the fucking internet?”

“She owes me.” The amount of hate and entitlement in her words has me gripping the phone to the point I worry I’ll crack it.

“She doesn’t owe you shit. You’re her goddamn mother.”

A disgusting, wet hacking cough comes over the line. “You’ve got it bad.” Her laugh is cruel and cold, nothing like her daughter’s infectious giggle. “She’s gonna go back to her make-believe world and leave you behind. Blake is a stuck-up little snob—always thinking she’s better than everyone else. What makes you any different?”

Pain aches through my chest. This woman is nothing but lies and deceit and bitterness. But there’s a sliver of truth in her words. Blakely ran to a big city as soon as possible and made a life there. She’s told me about her concerns with small towns. And we still haven’t talked about what happens a week from now.

She’s meant for more than living in tiny Trail Creek with a roughneck like me. She has custom shampoo, for fuck’s sake.

“Cat got your tongue? Truth hit too close, didn’t it?” Another phlegmy laugh makes my skin crawl. “Get what you can from her now, because she’ll be gone. Tell her to give me what I want, and she’ll never hear from me again.”

“I’m blocking this number. You need to stop messaging. Leave Blakely alone.” With that, I end the call.

“Hudson? Who are you talking to?”

Shit. I pride myself on a lot of things, and being an honest man is one of them. I’m not lying to her. So I answer truthfully and wait for her wrath. “Brandee.”

She sits up; her full lips turn down into an angry frown. “What the hell?”

“She kept calling, and I… I shouldn’t have answered.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” She nibbles on her thumbnail. “What did she say?”

“That what’s going on between you two is private, and if you pay her off, she’ll disappear.”

“What else?”

My chest tightens and I repeat her mother’s ugly words. “That you’re going to leave me behind.” I meet her gaze, and the sadness I see doesn’t give our future away. Is she sad because she’s leaving, or is it because she wants to stay? “I told her not to call again and blocked her number.”

“Hudson.”

I sink to my knees before her. “I overstepped.”

“Yes. You did.”

Burying my face against her stomach, I say, “I just want to keep you safe. To take care of you.” The words tumble from my lips. Their admission sounds a lot like I want to love you.

She lifts my chin, mimicking a move I’ve done to her so many times. Her fingers card through my hair, soothing me in a way I don’t deserve. Any lingering frustration melts off Blakely’s face. With a sigh, she leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “I’m not letting this steal any more time or energy. I want you to promise the same.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I’m not thrilled, but,” she shrugs and rests her forehead on mine, “it came from a good place. From now on, leave me to fight my battles, Bear. Until I ask for help.”

“I’d expect nothing less from you, Spitfire.” After a moment, I ask, “So, what’s your plan?”

Her soft breath fans over my skin. “I’m not sure. Blocking her is probably the right thing to do, for sure on the phone, but like I said, that takes away my ability to defend myself.”

Rising to my feet, I pull her into a hug. “You don’t have to decide right now. Whatever you do, I’m here.”

With a smile, Blakely takes my hand, leading us to our bed. I marvel at the sight of our entwined fingers. Hers, slender, delicate. Mine, rough and wide. So different, but so right.

DAY TWENTY-THREE

“Come on, Princess, keep up.”

“Don’t call me Princess!”

Chuckling, I keep my steady pace up the narrow, rocky terrain.

“Ugh, how can you be sweet one minute and an asshole the next?”

“I’m always delightful. Now hurry.”

From behind me, she yells, “We aren’t all goats!”

I bark out a loud laugh. She makes me better with everything she does, including the things that drive me up the wall. I thought I was in love with Paige, but she doesn’t hold a goddamn candle to what I feel for Blakely. Everything with her is so much more. More exciting. More frustrating. More satisfying. More real.

And it’s fucking clear. I never loved anyone before. Not really.

“Why couldn’t we bring the ATV up here?”

“Stop whining. You’re earning that princess nickname right now. Plus, the path is too narrow. Come on.”

“I can’t! I’m dying.”

So dramatic. And heaven help me, so fucking cute.

Dangling a carrot, I say, “If you hurry, I’ll give you a reward.” I toss the words over my shoulder, not bothering to look back as I climb higher up the jagged path.

A part of me worries she’ll sit down and demand I come back and get her. The memory of the infamous fuck the fucking sunrise hike plays in my head. But one thing I’ve learned? Blakely Bradshaw is treat motivated. My girl likes praise and touch. Two things I’m more than happy to give her. When I hear her distant footsteps quicken, I grin.

“What kind of reward? What makes you think I even want it?”

Turning, I plant my feet and gaze at her. “Oh, you want it.”

Like those four words are a fresh battery pack in her vibrator, Blakely scrambles up the path, catching me.

“What’s my prize?” she pants, hands on her knees.

“Stand up and you’ll see.” My words fan over her skin as my fingers walk up her back until they settle on her neck.

Blakely straightens, closes her eyes, and cranes her chin, expecting a kiss and more from me. I brush my lips over hers. “Open your eyes; you’re missing it.”

The moment she realizes how high we hiked writes itself on her face. Eyes wide, mouth wider. She looks over the cliffside in awe.

From here, I can just make out the clearing that houses the cabin, Lake Pica, and miles and miles of forest. It’s one of my favorite places. The sun glitters off the water, lazy clouds float in the sky, and the trees shift in the distance from the mild breeze.

“Wow.” Blakely draws in a deep breath as she takes in the scenic panorama.

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Yeah, you cocky bastard. I admit it. This is amazing.” She cautiously takes a step closer to the edge and peers over.

Every protective cell in my body goes on high alert. We’re two hundred feet from the next ledge. “Careful. I can’t fly, so if you go over...”

“You wouldn’t dive after me, breaking my fall with your body? Selfish, really.” She winks at me and takes one more step towards the brim.

Another shot of adrenaline courses through my system. “Don’t joke about it—now step back.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

A growl tears from my throat, and I grab her hips, pulling her into my chest. “Daddy? Does my little brat need a spanking to remind her to listen?” I tickle her sides until she wriggles out of my arms and collapses onto the ground. Like an apex predator, I pounce, pinning her to the mossy earth.

“Hudson! S-stop!” She gasps between giggles. “I’m sorry! I won’t go near the edge again.”

“Oh, you think it’s not listening that got you here? Try again.”

Biting her lip, she grins up at me. “Sorry, Daddy, I didn’t know that would set you off.”

Groaning, I kiss her like I can brand her lips with mine. This beautiful creature. Shit. The way I want to claim her. I pour myself into the kiss, trying to imprint her taste on my lips.

Only when we’re both breathless do I pull back and study the woman in my arms. She’s a goddess—covered in dirt, moss, and sweat. Her blonde hair is tangled and askew, her lips pink and swollen, her cheeks flushed.

Whether we’re bickering, fucking, talking, or cuddling, it all feels so goddamn right. If I were a different sort of man, an impulsive man, I’d ask her to marry me here on this cliff. But I’m not, and I can’t risk driving her away, not when we have so little guaranteed time left together.

Blakely squirms beneath me. “Can you let me up?”

“Are you hurt? ”

“No, not at all. This is kind of embarrassing, but I need to, um, you know...”

“Piss?”

Horror fills her eyes. “OMG. You did not say that.”

“Take a leak?”

She blanches.

“Urinate?”

This time, she laughs. “Yes, Professor Brooks, I need to urinate.”

“You have a shitload of choices. We’re in a forest, after all.” I roll off her and help her to her feet.

“So, just pick a tree? Any tree?”

“That or hold it until we get back.”

She bites her lower lip. “That’s not an option.”

“Tree it is then. Here.” I yank my undershirt off and hand it to her. “This shirt needs to be washed, anyway; use it as needed.” The horrified look from before returns. “Why the face? It’s just a little piss. Unless you’d rather drip dry.”

“Give me the shirt.” She snatches the tee from my hands and power-hikes toward the trees.

“Hurry back. I still owe you a spanking.” She pauses, a visible tremor rocking her body. Fuck yes. Then, because I can’t resist, I holler, “Don’t go too far! And don’t get lost!”

Her middle finger salute is the last thing I see before the pines swallow her. Chuckling at her squeamishness, I plop on the ground and take a long sip from my camelback. For all Blakely’s tenacity and bravado, especially in sexual situations, she’s shy about other bodily functions. Silly.

While I wait, I stretch out, letting the warmth of the overhead sun sink into my bones and chase away the chill in the air. It’s in the high forties today, the perfect hiking weather—made better by not being here alone .

Minutes later, the telltale sounds of Blakely returning break the silence. So loud. Always.

“Hudson! I foraged!”

I sit up, a rush of panic slicing through me. “What do you mean?”

“Elderberries! Like the ones from the story!” Her nose wrinkles, and her lips pucker. “They don’t taste very good, though. I figured being so dark, they’d be like cherries or grapes. But they’re really tart.”

“Blakely, how many of these did you eat?”

She pops another berry into her mouth and grimaces. “I don’t know, six or seven? Don’t worry, I brought enough to share.”

“Stop eating them.” I rush forward and knock the remaining berries from her hand.

“Hey! Why’d you do that? I thought you’d be proud of me. Foraging is on my wilderness skills checklist! And I remember these from your story. These are the berries they made medicine from.”

“Yes, but they have to be cooked, otherwise they’re poisonous.”

Her eyes double in size. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, eating them raw is dangerous.”

“Am I going to die?” she screeches, clutching her throat.

I hug her to me, trying to calm us both. “You aren’t dying.” Fuck. I run a hand through my hair. “Need to get you to the cabin ASAP. I swear, you have a knack for trouble.”

Her fear morphs into anger. “I’m trying! I thought I was doing something good!”

“Hey, I’m not…” I swallow. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. But right now, we don’t have time for this.” Without asking, I scoop her up and rush down the path. And, of course, the stubborn thing fights me.

“You can’t carry me the entire way!”

“I sure as shit can.”

“The path is too steep, and it took us over an hour to get to the top!”

“Are you doubting my strength and endurance?”

“Seriously?”

I raise an eyebrow.

With a huff, she says, “You’re the epitome of strength, endurance, and virility. Now shut up and put me down!”

“Blakely, listen to me. You might feel fine now, but you’re gonna be sick. I’m trying to get you home before your body betrays you.”

Her body goes rigid in my arms. “How sick?”

“Very.”

We make it three-fourths of the way down the mountain before it hits. With a floundering gasp, Blakely jumps from my arms and stumbles a step or two before doubling over. I sigh, bless her heart. She’s a mess. My mess.

I cringe at the sound of her violent retching. It’s gonna be a long night.

By some miracle, I get her back to the cabin. We stop twice for her to throw up, but we make it.

Every part of me wishes I could take her place. I’d gladly eat my weight in those fucking berries if it meant she wasn’t suffering. If I could take away the pain and discomfort. She’s in the worst of it now. Her slight frame trembles as she sobs and heaves.

Sinking to the ground, I pet her hair. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Please go away,” she groans, hiding her face in her hands from where she lays curled around the toilet on the bathroom floor.

“No, I’m here to take care of you. Nurse Hudson. Want me to get the hat? I think it’s still by our bed. ”

“That’s not funny.”

“Okay, but I’m not joking about helping you.”

“It’s too embarrassing.”

“What’s embarrassing about it? It’s a natural, albeit unfortunate, side effect of being human.” I pause, skimming my fingers along her damp skin. “At least it’s not coming out the oth?—”

“I’m begging you not to finish that sentence.” Another spasm rocks her, and she clutches her stomach. Tears fall in furrows down her cheeks. “It hurts. I’m gross. And this is not sexy.”

“Are you worried this makes me want you less? You know me better than that. Now, move your hands, and let me wipe your face.” She does as I ask, dropping her hands and facing me. I gently wipe her eyes, her cheeks, and the corners of her mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

Incredulous at her words, I gape at her. “What on god’s green earth are you apologizing for?”

“We only have a week left together, and I’m ruining it.”

“Blakely, hear me.” I tilt her face upward. “You’re not ruining anything. Being here, taking care of you, is where I want to be.”

She gives me a wan smile. “Can you help me brush my teeth?”

I kiss her forehead and reach above us, grabbing her toothbrush from the cup on the sink and putting a thin layer of toothpaste on it. Blakely takes the toothbrush, her wrist limp. Steadying her hand, together we brush her teeth. I help her stand as she rinses out her mouth.

“Better?”

“Much,” she says before falling against me as her legs give out.

“Let’s get you washed up and into bed.” I carry Blakely to the clawfoot tub. Holding her while I prep the water, I adjust the temperature so it’s not too warm or cold and lower her into the bath.

Blakely sighs when I massage her shoulders. She settles deeper, and I pour handfuls of water over her head.

“Mmmm, that feels nice,” she murmurs, her voice heavy with sleep and sickness.

I grab her shampoo and take a sneaky whiff before squirting some into my palms. That signature Blakely smell washes over me. I work the shampoo into her hair, digging my fingers into her scalp as I lather her tresses. Then I rinse the suds away, keeping it from dripping into her eyes. I repeat my actions with her conditioner, finger combing her silky strands.

Fuck, I love her. I consider telling her. If not now, when? But before I can say anything, Blakely begins shaking again. Shit, she’s about to puke. Running, I grab a trashcan and get it to her in the nick of time.

The tears stream from her eyes again as her body spasms, the elderberries wreaking havoc. She shivers, so I gather her out of the water and wrap her in a large, fluffy towel. As I dry her, the trembling subsides, but she starts rambling. Gibberish mostly, more apologizing and bemoaning her embarrassment.

Hugging her tight, I lead her to bed and pull the blankets around her. I sweep a lock of hair from her face, her skin already sticky with sweat. Even clammy and pale, she’s perfect. I give her a quick peck on the cheek before changing out the trash bag and bringing it next to the bed. She’s not out of the woods yet.

I snag a sports drink from the fridge and open her mouth, tipping it between her lips. It’s the best I can do to replenish her dehydrated body. “One more sip for me; you can do it.” I encourage her, pouring another mouthful down her throat.

Once she takes another small drink, I turn her onto her side and slip into bed, spooning her. I drape my arms and legs over, cocooning my body around hers. It’s all I can offer, having failed to keep her safe again.

I wouldn’t blame her if she left tomorrow. The lake, the arrow, the blisters, and now this. How can she see me as anything but a fuckup?

Blakely’s eyes flutter close, and her breathing steadies. She’s almost asleep, but she’s still mumbling. Mostly random apologies and thanking me for taking care of her. But before drifting off, she says, “Not your fault.”

“What’s that, baby?”

“Not your fault. I love you.”

I freeze. It’s more gibberish. She doesn’t mean it and won’t remember what she said. Even though I don’t deserve it, I bury my face in her hair and whisper the words that’ve been on my heart for days. “I love you, too, Spitfire. More than you know.”

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

The light streaming into the cabin wakes me. With a groan, I sit up and check on Blakely. She had a fitful night, waking every few hours, her body desperate to purge the raw elderberries.

I press my lips to her forehead, grateful to find her skin cool.

She blinks at me, her eyes heavy. “What time is it?”

Reaching out, I caress her silky cheek. “Morning. How do you feel?”

“Better. No nausea or stomach cramps. No brain fog or chills.”

“Do you remember anything?” Like telling me you love me ?

“Just eating the berries, panicking, and puking. All the rest is a blur.”

Damn.

I take two deep breaths, a half smile tugging on my lips. “How someone your size can vomit so much, I’m not sure I’ll ever understand. But the good news is, you’ve gone a few hours without throwing up, so I’m guessing the berries worked their way out of your system.”

Blakely groans and pulls the blanket over her head, hiding from me.

“Spitfire?”

“What?”

“Why are you under the blanket?”

“Because I’m dying of embarrassment.”

I snort and tug at the cover. She digs her fingers in and holds it tight, but I pry it away. When I lean in to kiss her, she ducks out of my reach.

“Can we not? I’m better, but I really need to brush my teeth.”

“Of course.” My eyebrows rise. “But I’d kiss you anytime.”

Blakely stares at me, aghast. “That’s disgusting.”

“You’re so squeamish. I don’t care how—to use your word, not mine—disgusting you are. I still want to kiss you.”

“That’s sweet. Gross. But sweet.”

I inch my face closer to hers. “Are you saying you wouldn’t kiss me if I spent the night vomiting?”

“No!”

“I must care about you more.”

“That’s not true! Or fair. I don’t think not wanting to kiss you right after you throw up is unreasonable. Most people would agree with me. It’s a valid, common feeling, not a measure of whether I care about you more or less. ”

“It seems like the person who cares more would kiss a disgusting person.”

“Ugh! Fine! I’d kiss you even after you threw up. Happy?”

I throw my head back, laughing. “Incredibly.”

“You’re such an asshole, and I still need to brush my teeth.”

“Do you want help?”

“Brushing my teeth? Of course not,” she snaps. “I’m not a baby.”

“I didn’t say you were. I’m offering to help like I did last night.”

“Well, stop. I’m already embarrassed that I tried to feed you poison berries and threw up all afternoon and night in front of you. I can brush my teeth.”

“Then do it.”

“I will!” She sits up too fast, and I catch her in time to keep her from hitting the ground.

“Blakely. Let me help you.”

A thousand emotions dance on her face. Pride, shame, and eventually resignation. “Okay, you can help me if it means that much to you.”

Little brat. “Yes, please.”

Together, we make our way to the water closet. I give her some privacy before joining to help wash her face and brush her teeth. Then we walk arm in arm to the bed. Blakely climbs in and lets me tuck the covers around her.

“I’m ready for my kiss now.”

Without speaking, I lower my lips to hers, and she sinks into my touch. Too soon, I break away, running my fingers through her hair and staring at her. “Nurse Hudson reporting for duty.”