And, knock on wood, we’d been able to keep our promise. Of course, so far only Destiny had crossed the second two thresholds. But Cara was on her way. She and Trace were getting married this fall, and she wanted to have a big family. And I knew they would, one way or another. I knew that Trace was looking into adoption, since Cara had gone through chemo and radiation and given her history there was a good chance that she wouldn’t be able to conceive naturally. That was heartbreaking because—unlike me—being a mom was something she’d always wanted. Desperately.
I’d never imagined my life the way they had. I’d never wanted to settle down, get married and have babies. I’d wanted to travel. To live in New York. Maybe even abroad. At least, that had been my dream.
But ever since I’d graduated last year, it just didn’t hold the same appeal. In fact, it didn’t hold any appeal at all. Maybe it was because growing up I’d thought that I wanted out of Wishing Well. Now, I wasn’t in such a hurry to leave.
There was that running joke in my family that I only wanted something when I couldn’t have it and then, once I got it, I lost interest. I hated to admit that they had a point. Once I graduated I was free to travel, relocate and live my Sex and the City life…I just didn’t want to anymore.
“Come. Sit.” Cara pulled back and took my hand, pulling me to where she’d been sitting.
I waved a quick hello to all seven of my brothers, who were deep in some sports discussion, and to my dad, who was pacing and barely noticed my arrival.
When I settled into the seat next to Cara, I was surprised that Hud slid in the seat next to me. I was sure that he was going to head to the empty seat next to my brother Beau across the room. After JJ, he and Beau were the closest. They’d grown up playing little league together. They were still good friends.
As he settled back into the less-than-comfortable hospital waiting area chair, his arm brushed mine. The innocent contact caused all kinds of not-so-innocent reactions spiraling out of control in my body. Wild, lust-filled heat spread through me faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind. I didn’t dare look up at him. The last thing I needed was for the entire waiting room to pick up on whatever was going on between us.
Cara snuggled up to Trace, whose arm had wrapped around her the second she was within range, but she shifted her legs so she was facing me. “I was so freaked out when you didn’t answer. I thought you were going to miss it.”
“Oh well, we were…in the barn.” I cleared my throat after stumbling over my words. Thank god this wasn’t a trial because I sounded guiltier than a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I didn’t hear the phone.”
Cara’s brow knitted as she tilted her head slightly and her eyes bounced between Hud and I. She opened her mouth in what I was sure was going to be an inquiry that I didn’t want to answer. Or one that, even if I wanted to, I would have no idea how to answer.
Since my BFF psychic alarm bells were ringing, I gave her “the signal” which came out a lot more exaggerated than I’d meant it to. I was fairly certain that I looked about as subtle as Elizabeth Montgomery on Bewitched, but it worked. Like the good best friend she was, she shifted gears at the drop of a dime, or in this case the drop of a signal. “Speaking of the barn, what exactly is that place going to be, Hud?”
That was my girl. She didn’t just change the subject to some small-talk; she went in for the right-to-the-point kill shot.
Cara for President!
Not able to resist, I turned my head towards Hudson. If I was a cat, I would’ve used up all nine of my lives and then some over the past couple of weeks. Even not being of the feline persuasion, my curiosity was killing me.
To the untrained, unversed-in-all-things-Hudson-Reed eye, his expression remained the same. Stoic. Unmoved. But since I’d been studying that face since I was in pigtails, I knew better. I noticed the nearly indiscernible changes. His lower jaw tightened and the corners of his light brown eyes squinted by a finite degree.
That was decision-making face. He was making a mental pro/con list—weighing his options. I’d seen him make the same face right before he dove off of the Calhoun’s two-story roof into the deep end of their pool when he was twelve. It was the same expression I’d seen on his face right before he tried smoking weed for the first time with my brother JJ when they were fourteen. They were camping out in my parent’s basement, so naturally I’d hidden in the closet like any good little sister with a crush on their older brother’s friend. And it was the same expression I’d seen on his face seconds before he’d kissed me less than an hour ago. That time the scales tipped in my favor by, well, begging. This time I waited, not quite sure I trusted myself to speak.