Roughing It

30. Hudson

CHAPTER THIRTY

hudson

DAY THIRTY-ONE

Pain shoots from my leg through my rib cage and into my head. What the fuck happened? On the cusp of my memory are awful sounds: brakes squealing, metal crunching, and Blakely’s screams.

With every ounce of persistence, determination, and bullheadedness I possess, I will my weighted eyes open.

The sun shines early morning light around me, all mellow golds and burnt oranges. I’m surprisingly comfortable, given the entire right side of my body feels like my Jeep crashed down a bank and into a tree. There’s a pile of clothing beneath me and, below that, a tarp. Random clothes and the emergency blanket I keep in the cargo space cover me. As my eyes adjust to the light, I notice the makeshift lean-to built using the bottom of the Jeep as a wall. Smoke drifts over me from the banked ashes of a fire.

Fucking hell. She did this. I was less than useless, and my city siren kept us sheltered and warm overnight on her own. If I hadn’t already planned on worshiping Blakely like the badass goddess she is, this would cement it.

The deity in question sleeps curled up beside me, her head in the crook of my left shoulder, her nose pressed into my armpit. So fucking cute. God, I love her. She makes a sweet snuffling sound and rubs her face against me.

I want to pull her closer. Sniff her hair. Kiss her forehead, but I can’t move. My leg screams, and my ribs burn. The pain in my head is a dull throb, so that’s a win. A dry chuckle bubbles up—some win.

Gently shaking her, I say the one word that means more than any other. “Blakely.”

Her eyes flutter before squeezing shut. Even on a good morning, Blakely struggles to wake before nine, but given the amount of work she did yesterday, the adrenaline drop, and her own injuries, she must be exhausted.

“Come on, Spitfire, I need you.” Speaking is like tearing my throat with sandpaper, but I force the words out. I need her to be okay. For her to be here and whole. To confirm I didn’t lose her. That I still have a chance to keep her.

She grumbles and frowns, the lips I’ve kissed a hundred times pouting. Then awareness hits her, and she shoots up. “Shit! Shit. Shit!”

Her voice is like a river running over rocks, leaves rustling in the wind, and the coyotes singing. Magic. Perfect. Home.

Even if she’s cussing like a sailor.

There’s dirt on her cheeks and her hair is an untamed mass of waves around her head. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Then I spot the purple spreading across her chest from the neckline of her tank top under her open layers. My eyes trace what my hands can’t. “I’m so fucking sorry. ”

Blakely smooths my furrowed brow. “Don’t worry about me, Bear. I’m fine.”

Her lips brush against mine, and while my instincts are to sink into the kiss, the pain rises, and I have to break away.

With a worried look, she gets up and goes to the fire, poking and tending it until it flickers to life. The temperature is dropping. You can smell the cold coming. Another night out here won’t be pleasant.

My leg throbs at the thought. Forcing myself into a leaning position, I look down for the first time. Blakely did a damn fine job splinting my leg, bracing it between two branches, and fastening it with strips of soft cloth.

“It’s one of my shirts.”

“Huh?”

“The binding. I didn’t want to waste the rope.” She nibbles on her bottom lip, her nerves evident.

I nod. “Smart. Good choice.”

“Really?”

A smirk worms its way onto my lips despite the fire spreading through my body. “Hell yeah. You did so fucking good.”

Pink colors her cheeks. I love that this has her blushing. The same woman who let me lick her perfect asshole is turning red because I told her she did a good job on a splint made from aspen branches.

The praise I long to heap on her is on the tip of my tongue. To tell her how much I believe in her. How fucking strong she is. How she’s it for me. All I manage is, “Blakely, I love you.”

“I love you, too. So much. The idea of leaving?—”

“Hudson! Blakely!”

A familiar voice sounds in the distance. Blakely and I lock eyes, whatever she’s about to say gone as we hear our names shouted again .

“Blakely Bradshaw! Hudson Brooks!”

I crook a finger until she’s face to face with me. “We’ll finish this conversation once we’re safe and checked over. Agree?”

She nods and kisses me.

Shutting my eyes, I fight the needles in my throat and holler, “Bo!”

Blakely claws her way up the incline toward the road as she shouts, “Bo! Gray! We’re here!”

They volley back and forth until their words drop, replaced by two heavy sets of stamping feet I’d know anywhere—my brothers.

Bo gets to me first, concern and worry etched on his face. “Shit, man, we’ve been searching for you and Blakely for hours. Started around four this morning. The Austin guy lost his ever-loving mind when you didn’t turn up at the office, and he couldn’t get ahold of her.”

Gray joins my youngest brother, his eyes surveying the situation. “Yeah, and then you didn’t answer either, and we figured shit had gone off the rails.”

I can hear more people moving toward us. The crunching leaves and slap of hiking boots against the wet ground grow louder as a group of close to twenty people pour into the area around the Jeep.

“You were all looking for us?” Disbelief laces Blakely’s words.

No sooner than she speaks does Lynn Davis engulf her in a motherly hug, pulling a dry sweater over her head and fussing over her. The rest of the Davis family—Scott, Charli, Waverly, and Clairy, Bond and his wife Tuesday—hover around Blakely, too. Clairy follows after her mother, wrapping my girl in a tight hug, whispering something to her. Blakely’s eyes are like saucers in her face as person after person comes by to check on her. Griff Anderson, Dane Mendoza, Saul, Ava and her kids, and so many others from town. All out here for us.

Because this is who Trail Creek is—good people who do good things.

I watch as Blakely excuses herself from the group, making her way to my side. “They were all looking for us.” She repeats the words from earlier.

“Yeah, baby. They were.”

“All morning. Even before the sun was up.”

I don’t say anything, just let her detangle this in her mind. Let her see how the people here aren’t like the ones from Hawthorne, who turned their backs on her when she needed them. Instead, they show up. This is one giant step forward in rebuilding her trust in others, and if I can convince her to stay, the town will prove it to her.

More people arrive, each kitted to spend the day searching for us. Tears glisten in Blakely’s eyes, but she stays quiet. I wish I could read her mind right now. I’m about to ask her what she’s thinking when a fresh onslaught of pain rockets through me, and there’s no hiding it.

“You look like shit.” Bo lets out a loud whistle as he studies our setup. “You’re losing your touch, Hudson. This shelter won’t last another night.”

Blakely arches one eyebrow and stares at Bo, but doesn’t say anything. Bo keeps digging the hole he doesn’t even know he’s in, one stupid shovel full at a time. “EMTs are here. Need ‘em?”

Before I can answer, Blakely snaps. “Yes, he needs them.” To the arriving paramedics, she says, “His leg is broken; I think his ribs are too. They’re at least bruised. And I’m pretty sure he has a concussion.”

My brothers stare at Blakely, mouths wide enough to catch flies. “He’s that hurt?” Gray asks, taking over the digging for Bo.

“Why the hell else wouldn’t I be standing?” Silently, I tag on, moron. A soft fuck slips out as the EMTs work to transfer me from the ground to the stretcher.

Gray has the good sense to look embarrassed. Two red spots sit high on his cheeks. “I figured…” He cuts off and tips his head at Blakely.

If I wasn’t about to pass out from the pain, I’d be laughing. Blakely stands, turning the full force of her frustration on my middle sibling.

“You figured what? That I was the problem? I was the one hurt and keeping us from being able to get to town? Well, shows what you know. I did this.” She waves a hand, the chipped pink polish not slowing her down. “Now get your head out of your butt and help them get your brother up that hill!”

One of the paramedics tries to wrangle Blakely long enough to take her blood pressure, but she squirms away, refusing to separate from me. She puts her hands on her hips, the picture of the willful, headstrong woman I love. “I’m riding with him.”

I don’t mention there’s only one ambulance. “They need to check you out, too.”

She snorts and glares. “I’m not worried about me. What are we waiting for?” To Pippa, the sweet woman who works as an EMT and part-time at The Bee and The Bean, Blakely says, “You can check me over after you get him loaded.” With that, she picks her way to the road, giving waves and thank yous to everyone she meets on her way.

A smile stretches Bo’s lips. “Marry her. Whatever it takes, man. Marry her. ”

The haze of the meds the EMTs pump into my veins takes hold, and my last coherent thought is, I sure as shit plan on it .

DAY THIRTY-TWO

The air around me is stale, sterile. But something sweet lingers on the edge of it. Something Floral. Soft.

A scent I would recognize anywhere.

Blakely.

“Morning, Bear.” Her breath fans over my cheek, and the slight weight of her body grounds me. She reaches up to cradle my face, but I snag her hand, mindful of the wires and IVs decorating my skin. Bringing it to my lips, I kiss her knuckles before running my nose over the delicate skin of her wrist. Each deep breath fills my senses, drowning out the antiseptic hospital air.

“Morning.”

“How do you feel?”

I grunt and try to adjust the pillow behind me before the ache of the movement reminds me why that’s a shitty idea. Blakely shifts off the side of the bed and helps fix it.

“Hate that I need help with everything.”

The smile that lights up her face temporarily eases my grumpy mood. “Let me take care of you for a change. It won’t be forever. Before long, you’ll be back as the undisputed HCIC.”

I raise an eyebrow. “HCIC?”

“Head Caretaker In Charge.”

My snort makes my ribs ache, but I hide my grimace. They had me in and out of surgery within a couple of hours after getting us to the hospital, and aside from the time I was under, Blakely and I haven’t been apart. She sweet-talked the on-duty nurse into letting her stay in my room overnight and ended up sleeping in my arms—where she belongs. Between her and the pain meds, I slept like a goddamn baby.

Blakely stretches out next to me, cuddling as close as possible. My lips find their way to the crown of her head. “How about you?”

“I’m fine. Like I’ve told you every time you’ve asked since you woke up. Bruised and sore, but nothing’s broken, and there’s no internal damage.”

Have I asked three or four or five times? Yes. Fucking sue me. The nurse comes in and out, only threatening me twice when I give her one-word answers. With morning rounds done and visitor hours not quite starting, I have the opening I’ve been waiting for.

“Yesterday, before Bo and Gray showed up, you said something about leaving.” I’m bracing myself for her to run, to ask me if it can wait. Or worse, to say she’s been waiting for an all-clear to leave.

She tilts her head back. “Is this your way of asking what I was going to say?”

I roll my eyes and nod.

“If you weren’t a day out of surgery, I’d pinch your nipple.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

Her giggle is like a caress on my soul. How will I live without it if she leaves?

“Hudson, look at me.” The ocean in her eyes is full of warmth and love. And something else. Hope maybe? “Coming so close to losing you gave me perspective on things. You asked me to stay, and I told you I couldn’t. But that was a lie. I could. I can. Fear was holding me back, but the idea of being without you, not seeing your grumpy ass every day, is the scariest thing I can think of.”

“You’re staying?”

A wrinkle forms between Blakely’s brows. “I’ll repeat it because you recently suffered a head injury. I’m staying. You’re stuck with me, Bear.”

“What about your apartment? Your job?”

Blakely kisses me, sweet and searching. When she breaks it, she whispers, her lips still touching mine. “Are you trying to talk me out of staying? After everything? I mean, you wrecked your Jeep to keep me here.”

I chuff out a breath. “If anything, the accident was your plan. What with kissing me and all.”

“Nope. The kiss came well before the crash. It was clearly a ploy to strand us so I couldn’t go back to Austin.” There’s no bite to her words, only the familiar teasing tone I love. The playful bickering. The way she presses and pushes me. Her. “Kirk and I talked while you were in surgery and recovery.”

“About what?”

Just as Blakely opens her mouth to answer, the man in question knocks on the door. “Hey, you two. How are you feeling?”

Blakely untangles herself from me to hug him. “I was telling Hudson about our plans.”

Kirk nods. “Good. I’ve already had multiple offers from sponsors for the new direction your socials are taking. And a local realtor sublet the apartment for the remainder of your lease, so you’re good to go. Moving company is hired.” He pauses and glances at me. “One little thing, though, I didn’t have an address to give them.”

I’m a smart man. Blakely makes me an idiot, but away from her, I’m smart. Maybe it’s the pain medicine pumping into my veins, the lingering effect of the concussion I suffered, or exhaustion, but I’m not following.

“Don’t think too hard, Bear. You’re still concussed.”

“Yeah, Bear. Don’t sprain your brain.” Bo walks in with a shit-eating grin. Behind him is Gray, his arms full of stuffed animals and mylar balloons.

“Not really into little pink teddy bears,” I grumble.

“Bold of you to assume they’re for you.” Another voice joins the fray. “They’re actually for the beautiful young woman who saved your life.” My mother pushes both Bo and Gray out of her way, coming over to my bed and cradling my chin in her hand. “How are you?”

The freckles on her face match mine, and her eyes are warm as she studies me, watching for any hint of a lie.

“I’m good. Pain is manageable. Hoping they’ll send me home tomorrow.”

My father steps into the overcrowded room, his large frame eating up any leftover space. “Son.” He nods at me, then leans against a wall out of the way.

“King, get your butt over here and hug your son.” My mother scolds him before extending a hand to Blakely, who retreats to the far side of my bed with each arriving member of my family. “Blakely? Right? King and I just got into town this morning. We’ve been in Victoria for the past few weeks and flew out as soon as Bo called us.”

“She doesn’t need our life story, Lisse.”

Instead of being upset at my father’s blunt tone, Blakely rolls her lips to hide a smile. Leaning closer to me, she whispers, “So that’s where you get it.”

I frown and grunt, proving her point.

“I’m Lisse Brooks, and this big lug is King. It’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart. We’ve been watching you all month long, and the two of you—” Mom dabs at her eyes. “You’re so fucking cute.”

The shock of my mother dropping an F-bomb breaks any lingering tension, and soon, she and Blakely are chatting like old friends. My dad watches us from the wall with a soft smile. When my eyes droop, my nurse shoos everyone but Blakely out. Despite not doing anything, I’m tired as hell. I’m over this shit.

Blakely dims the lights and snuggles close. “So we didn’t finish our conversation. Again. It’s becoming our thing, huh?”

“Nope.”

She raises both brows. “Care to elaborate.”

“We aren’t gonna be that couple. We’re gonna talk.”

“Are you including yourself in this?”

“Smartass.” I nip her bottom lip. “Yes.”

With a laugh, she smiles. “Okay, Toastmaster, let’s hear it.”

Shit. I clear my throat. “You finish, then I’ll go.”

“Uh-huh.” Her plump lips press against mine. “So, an address. I don’t have one anymore. Know anyone in Trail Creek looking for a roomie?”

“Kirk was serious? You gave up your apartment in Austin?”

“Sure did. And mapped out a new direction for my channels. I’m currently on hiatus, but it’s going to be big. I don’t know if you know this, but it turns out I’m not too bad at this wilderness stuff.”

My lips pull into a smile. “Yeah, when push came to shove, you were a badass.”

“I figure there are probably a lot of women like me. Who may never be up to spending a month alone in the forest but would still like to learn the basics from someone who speaks their language.” She pauses. “But it all depends on you.”

“Me?”

“I’ll need to learn more if I’m going to teach others. Plus, I really need somewhere to live.”

I bark out a laugh that rattles my bruised ribs, but it’s worth it. “I know of a little place.”

“Oh? ”

“Yeah. Became available recently. Previous tenants were only there a month.”

She nods sagely. “Because it was a secluded sex-torture cabin?”

“No. I mean there was sex, but no torture, unless you count the roommate who never stopped making noises. Even in her sleep. She talked and snored and snuffed.”

“That sounds like a blatant exaggeration. If there was any torture, I bet it was at the hands of a know-it-all grumpass.”

Despite the dull ache in my side and leg, I pull Blakely’s mouth to mine in the kiss I’ve been dying to give her since the fight in the Jeep. One that holds every promise I plan to keep. Every tomorrow. Every fight and makeup. Every beautiful failure and miraculous high. I don’t pull away until I’m certain she understands the message. Until I can find the same promise in her kiss.

“Did you find your phone?”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t believe you’re asking. I figure you’d be thrilled at the possibility it was lost forever.”

I make a hmph sound.

“Bo found it. It’s in bad shape, but it still works.” She unlocks it and hands it to me. The screen is shattered, but I only need it to send a text.

I’m slow and clumsy, and it takes forever to type out the message. When I’m done, I toss the damned thing on the floor. It served its purpose.

“Who were you texting?” she asks.

“Just sending Kirk your new address.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.” I tuck a stray hair behind her ear and give her one more soft kiss. “Looks like you’ll be roughing it with me from now on, Spitfire.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Bear.”