“Sure, I am.” Sarcasm was my friend.
“You got nanny cams so you could watch him when you go out. You were late the first day of your community service so that you could go back home and get him.”
And change my outfit. But…semantics.
“You only had community service in the first place because you broke the law for him.”
“Anyone would’ve done that.” I sighed as I looked down at my eighty pound, sleeping baby.
“No.” Hud’s tone grew even deeper, sexier—which I wouldn’t have believed was possible if I hadn’t heard it myself. “Most people wouldn’t have. Some people might’ve felt bad. Some people might’ve tried to reason with Cruella.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the fact he used her nickname.
When I glanced up at him I noticed that he’d shifted towards me, making the enclosed space seem even smaller, more intimate than it had just moments ago. Or maybe he hadn’t, maybe it just felt like he had because he’d turned his intense gaze and focused it solely on me.
“Some people might’ve gone back first thing Monday, but I promise, you are one of the only people I know who would commit a B&E for a dog that wasn’t even theirs, because of thunder.” He spoke about my crime as if I were Mother Theresa not Jessie James as he moved at least two inches in my direction.
This time I knew it wasn’t illusion. The scent of wood chips, leather, and soap intensified and was mixed with mint from his breath the closer he got.
“It wasn’t because of thunder.” I didn’t even recognize the breathy Happy-Birthday-Mr.-President voice that came out of my mouth, but I kept talking and hoped that it would self-correct. “It was because he’s so scared of thunder.”
He paused, and drew back slightly as the corners of his eyes narrowed when his gaze laser locked on mine.
Logically, I knew that the eyes weren’t really windows into your soul, but the way he was looking at me had me thinking there might be more to that saying than I’d originally given it credit for. It also made me want to shut my lids like curtains.
His voice softened as he stated more than asked, “You really don’t know do you, Princess?”
No.
“Know what?”
“How amazing you are.”
“Yes, I do.” I heard my false bravado and hoped that Hud hadn’t picked up on it.
It’s not that I had low self-esteem—I didn’t. At least when it came to my appearance. I knew my strengths. And ninety percent of them were firmly in the physical department. Not that I was complaining. I wasn’t one of those “pretty girls” who whined that life was so hard because no one took them seriously, or anything like that. Being attractive was better than being unattractive, but that didn’t make me amazing.
Destiny was amazing. She’s always known what she wanted and she went after it. Her bakery, check. JJ, check. Family, check. She was knocking out life goals faster than I was making them.
And if you really wanted to talk about amazing, you didn’t have to look any further than our third Angel, Cara. Not only had she beat cancer, she was also the sweetest, kindest, most supportive person in the world.
Then there was me. I was fun, funny, and moderately intelligent. And I was easy on the eyes, but I wasn’t exactly lighting the world on fire or inspiring people to live a better life.
Hud’s all too perceptive observation sent my fight or flight reflex into code red. Flight won.
“Well, thanks again. See ya Monday.” I started to open the door, not sparing him even a glance when I felt his hand on my knee. I froze.
“Harmony. We need to talk.” From a scale of one to serious, he was tipping the scales into Walter Cronkite.
I had a feeling I knew where this was headed and had no desire to follow him down the that-wasn’t-a-compliment, I’m-sorry-I-kissed-you, it’s-not-you-it’s-me rabbit hole.
“Yeah, we do.” I dropped my hand from the door and turned. In what could be considered either a very good or very bad thing (the jury was still out) Hud’s hand dropped from my knee. “Why the hell is my brother asking you to take in Stiller’s foal and calf? You don’t even have a farm. Or, do you? You said your aunt and uncle are going to be the caretakers up at Emerald Cove. Does that mean they’ll be taking care of it for you? And what the hell is it anyways.”
If we were going down We Need To Talk highway, I was going to be the one in the driver’s seat. Harmony Briggs was at the wheel.
Chapter 16
Hudson
“There’s two theories to arguin’ with a woman. Neither one works.”
~ Loretta Reed