“And what did you do?” Cara followed-up.
“I went home. Rejected. Humiliated.” Heartbroken. I kept that revealing adjective to myself. “And that was when I decided to down an entire bottle of vodka.”
“Wait.” Destiny’s head tilted to the side like the RCA dog. “So you started crushing on him at prom?”
“No. It was a little longer than that.”
“Aww.” Cara held her hands to her heart as a smile spread on her face.
“No. Not aww. Did you not hear what I just told you?”
Cara grinned even wider. “Love is always aww.”
“Who said anything about love?”
“You did.” Destiny spoke as if it was a fact. “Not with your words. But you said it, loud and clear.”
Cara nodded in agreement.
Had I? Did I? I was saved from having to answer those questions, even to myself, when Destiny had a contraction. She said it was Braxton Hicks. Talk turned to the baby and I threw myself into the new conversation.
It was bad enough that I’d had a schoolgirl crush on Hud, being in love with him would be…bad. Really bad.
Chapter 10
Hudson
“Fightin’ love is like trying to climb out of quicksand, the harder you struggle the farther you sink.”
~ Loretta Reed
A yawn claimed me as I ground the heel of my palm into my eyes. I was exhausted. Bone-tired.
After spending four days working up at the ranch, I’d worked three twelves in a row. Even with the four cups of coffee I’d drank I could barely make out the words on the documents in front of me, much less make any sense of them. But that didn’t matter. I needed to get these signed, initialed, notarized and submitted before I headed up to Emerald Cove tomorrow morning so there wasn’t a delay in the insurance and all of the proper permits were filed.
I heard the squeak of the back screen door seconds before I heard my mother’s voice. “What’s this I hear about you changin’ up the plans for the camp?”
This morning I’d called my mom, who was a notary, to come over so I could get through these and drop them at my lawyer’s office in the morning. “I’ve decided to incorporate a rescue. I want to take in dogs and horses to start, and then expand as we grow. I already spoke to Uncle Chuck and Aunt Lana about the new direction.”
My Uncle, a retired cop who worked in the K9 unit of forensics had been thrilled to be working with rescues. My aunt, who’d just retired from being a social worker, had been excited about the therapy potential the animals had for the kids that come to the camp. She said they instill work ethic, confidence and sense of purpose.
After pulling out the kitchen chair across from me, my mom took a seat at the table, dropping her purse beside her. “And would this ‘new direction’ have anything to do with a certain green-eyed, auburn-haired beauty?”
Yes.
Since I wasn’t in the habit of lying, especially to my mom, I turned my attention back to my paperwork.
“I thought so.” I couldn’t see the expression on her face, but if the knowing tone in her voice was any indication, she took my silence as agreement.
There was nothing I could do about her assumption, even if it was true. Especially since it was true. The fact was that I’d decided to add “rescue” to Reed Ranch because of Romeo and Harmony. Because of seeing Romeo with Harmony. The new direction of the ranch was really just the tip of the Harmony-inspired-life-changes iceberg. That sucker was packed full of stuff I had no intention of getting into with my mom, or anyone else—including myself—for that matter.
“Sooooo…” my mother sing-songed, “Does this mean that you’re finally going to do something about it?”
“About what?” I kept my eye trained on the paragraph I’d read and reread at least five times because I couldn’t focus for shit.
“Hudson Jasper Reed, do not play dumb with me.”
Damn. I may be an officer of the law, homeowner, and grown-ass man, but when Loretta Reed used middle names everyone in Wishing Well, or Clover County—hell, in the entire state of Texas—sat up straight and paid attention.
Lifting my eyes to meet my mom’s light brown stare, I tried not to let the tension I was feeling bleed into my tone. My bad mood and crankiness had nothing to do with her. She’d come by to help me, as a favor, and there was no reason to take my frustration out on her.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” My answer was short, sweet, and to the point. I knew it was not likely that my mom would respect my boundaries, but it was at least worth a shot.
“Well…” She shrugged with mock empathy. “Too bad for you, I do.”
I could hear the ball hit off the backboard. A shoot and a miss.