Free Web NovelChapter 193: Chapter 193 For Special Occasion
Christina’s POV
Hudson appeared behind me, wrapping a heavy wool coat around my shoulders. The deep gray fabric was thick and warm enough to block out the bitter winter cold.
"You always forget how freezing it gets here," he said. "Wear this until we get to the car."
I slipped my arms through the sleeves, grateful for the warmth. As soon as we stepped out of the terminal, Hudson grabbed my hand and pulled it into his coat pocket. His palm was warm against mine, fingers lacing through my own.
We walked side by side through the exit, our breath making little clouds in the freezing air. The cold was even worse than I remembered, the kind that cuts through denim and wool straight to your bones.
We hurried to the car waiting at the curb.
Back at the mansion, I went straight to Hudson’s room without thinking twice. I hadn’t talked to Geoffrey about it yet, but I already knew what he’d say if I asked about the heating repairs.
We’d barely gotten through the door when Beta Dominic showed up. He whispered something urgent, waving his phone in Hudson’s face, and dragged him away before I could even get my boots off.
I watched them leave through the front window with a sigh.
Hudson had been stuck with me in Riverbend for days. He could have let me handle the design competition by myself, but he didn’t.
Whatever crisis was going off at The Sabreridge pack now had probably been building up the whole time we were gone.
That evening, Hudson called to say he wouldn’t make it home for dinner and told me not to wait up. I went to bed early, asleep before ten.
Later, I felt something pulling at me.
I forced one eye open.
Hudson stood there, shirtless, his hair damp against his forehead. I could smell the faint scent of his body wash.
I groaned and closed my eyes again.
"You’re back," I mumbled into my pillow.
He slid into bed behind me, pulling me close. His strong arm wrapped around my waist, holding me against him. His skin was warm.
I automatically pressed myself against him, half-asleep again.
Since the Riverbend thing, we hadn’t spent a night apart. My body knew where it belonged better than my brain did.
Under his body wash, I caught something stronger. Vodka, maybe, or whiskey.
I pressed my nose against his chest, breathed in twice, then wrinkled my nose and pulled back.
"You’ve been drinking," I said.
"Just a little. I showered, the smell should be gone."
"It’s still there."
I heard him laugh quietly. His hand gently touched my cheek, brushing the messy hair away from my face. His fingers moved from my cheek to my lips, tracing them slowly.
"This mouth of yours," he sighed. "Always has to get the last word."
My brain started coming up with a comeback, but before I could say anything, he pushed me back against the mattress and kissed me. Controlling, possessive, but gentle. Like he was winning an argument with his mouth.
I closed my eyes, my arms automatically wrapping around his neck.
The alcohol smell on his skin seemed to have disappeared.
Maybe I’d imagined it.
His lips moved against mine. Slow, teasing, familiar.
My thoughts got fuzzy, muscles relaxing.
His weight made me feel safe.
I fell asleep in his arms.
When I woke up, the bed was empty. Weak light came through the gap in the curtains, making stripes across the comforter.
I lay there with my head buried in his pillow.
I lifted my hand to touch my lips. They felt a little swollen.
So it wasn’t a dream—he had kissed me.
I didn’t move for several seconds, just lying there, remembering how his hands felt on my hips and his voice whispering in my ear.
My chest felt tight, but not in a bad way. Just that flutter when your heart decides to remind you it’s there.
You’re falling hard for Hudson, Akira teased.
"Shut up," I muttered, but there was no bite to it.
It surprised me that we hadn’t had sex last night, especially after how intense our first night together had been. He wasn’t treating me like just another hookup.
I stretched, my spine popping as I groaned and rolled out of bed.
While brushing my teeth, I stared at my reflection. My hair was sticking up in the back. My lips were definitely swollen.
I spat into the sink and rinsed.
Things between Hudson and me were getting... weird.
No, not weird. Good.
We slept in the same bed. We shared a bathroom. We held each other all night.
But we weren’t saying any of the important stuff.
I looked back at the bed. The duvet pushed aside, pillows with dents in them. Two sets of wrinkles in the sheets.
The messy scene looked right somehow, like it belonged to both of us.
I’d promised myself that once we got back from Riverbend, I would figure this out. What this was. What I wanted from him.
My lips curved up before I could stop them.
I’d made my choice.
At the studio, Priya congratulated me, then handed me a velvet tray.
"First sample’s done. Want to find problems now or after coffee?"
I held it up to the light. "Not bad. Edges need work, and this clasp is too tight. But good job. Fast too."
She made notes on her tablet before heading to the back room.
I hadn’t been to the studio in days, but everything was perfect. Daniel and Priya had kept things running.
It gave me freedom.
I grabbed my scarf and crossed the street to Sugar & Whim.
Ysolde hugged me the second I walked in. "I knew you’d win! That competition went viral. Half my social feed is tagged with your name. If I’d known Riverbend would be so crazy, I would have ditched the bakery and come with you."
When I told her about DuBois, the mysterious old man, and the six hundred thousand, she made a disgusted sound.
"Sounds like a thriller novel. Damn, why does all the exciting stuff happen when I’m not around? That’s it. Next time, wherever you go, I go."
"Focus," I said. "I’m not here to gossip. I need a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"I want to order a small cake. I’ll pick it up before you close."
She frowned. "Whose birthday?"
"No one’s." I cleared my throat. "I’m cooking dinner for Hudson tonight." freēwēbηovel.c૦m
I’d left Geoffrey a note that morning asking him to get ingredients. I’d planned the menu over breakfast. Nothing fancy, but I wanted to make it myself.
The cake was for dessert.
Ysolde squinted at me. "You eat with him every night. What’s the special occasion?"
