Chapter 14
“It is the last night of camp. You are not spending it holed up in our cabin or the pottery studio.” Hands on hips, Sam glared at Audrey. “So, get dressed. Or don’t. I don’t actually care. But you’re going to that dance tonight if I have to get Charlie to toss you over his shoulder.”
Audrey just arched a brow. “You’d really haul me to the boathouse in my bathrobe?”
“In a New York minute.”
Audrey knew she was just crazy enough to do it.
Sam flopped down on the bed. “Honey, I know this whole trip didn’t turn out like you wanted, but you can’t let your last memory of camp be of moping around.”
Audrey wanted to protest that she hadn’t been moping, but it would’ve been a lie. The truth was, all hurt aside, she missed Hudson. And she was worried about how he was coping with his friend’s death. Which was wasted emotion. He wasn’t a part of her life. Not in any permanent way. That was something she’d come to understand about camp flings—they were intense and glorious because of their brevity.
Would things have been the same between them if there’d been no expiration date? If they’d just met again under circumstances where they could’ve taken their time, would their attraction still have happened? Or was it just the enforced proximity here at camp that had pulled him into her orbit? Given the hard-core case of survivor’s guilt he had going, she might have had the chance to give her thanks, but that would’ve been it. And she’d have been the poorer for it.
“Please come tonight. At least for a little while.”
Audrey didn’t want to go. Being around all those happy people, all that noise and boisterous enthusiasm made her want to burrow under the covers and sleep until morning, when they’d be boarding the bus to head back to New York and the airport. But given her luck, their companions on the bus would quiz her about who she was and why she’d been a hermit during camp. Or, worse, ask her what happened with the hottie firefighter who’d saved her ass from death by campfire that first week. Besides, she knew she’d dampened Sam’s own pleasure in the whole camp experience, and that really wasn’t fair. She’d used up her quota of lousy friend passes.
“Okay. But if I’m going, then it’s not going to be in my bathrobe.”
Sam grinned and gave a victory fist pump. “Damn straight. If you’re going, you might as well knock some socks off. Please let me do your hair and makeup.”
Audrey arched a brow. “Are you about to be channeling your Miss Eden’s Ridge pageant days?”
“Hush your mouth. I never did pageants. And anyway, didn’t you watch Miss Congeniality? They’re scholarship programs.” Sam rummaged around in her stuff and came up with at least four bottles of hair product and a curling iron.
Audrey held up a hand. “I draw the line at hair tall enough to commune with God.”
“Noted. Now go get in the shower.”
She took her time, as much to let the hot water beat on her stiff muscles as to procrastinate facing the full contingent of beautification tools at Sam’s disposal. By the time she strode out, pleasantly pruney, Sam had a whole station set up. With the panache of a game show host, she waved Audrey to her seat.
“Sit and let me work my magic.”
Because it obviously made her friend happy to play stylist, Audrey sat.
“I’m having potentially life-altering thoughts.”
Sam’s hands paused, roller in hand. “About Hudson?”
“Because of him. About my career, my research.”
“I thought you didn’t want to do research anymore.”
“I didn’t know what I wanted to do before. But I’m considering a change in focus. I want to start researching survivor guilt. I couldn’t help Hudson with his, but maybe I could discover something in my work that could help others like him.”
Sam didn’t stop moving. “Can’t do that in Chattanooga. So, you’ve decided to take the job in Berkeley?”
“It’s an amazing opportunity. The resources I’d have there are unparalleled. It’s got me really excited about getting back to my work.” She supposed she owed Hudson for that. It wasn’t what she’d wanted from him, but as a consolation prize, at least it was an opportunity to do something with true meaning. She needed that in her life now, more than ever.
“I think it’s a good idea. But is Berkeley going to go for it?”
“I’m flying out to discuss it with Dr. Feinstein almost as soon as we get home.”
“Well, I wish you luck. Even though I’m going to miss you like crazy.”
Audrey reached back to lay a hand on Sam’s arm. “I’m going to miss you, too. I’ll keep in touch.”
“Damn straight. Now be still while I finish this.”
Her hair was dried, smoothed, then set in loose waves.
“Hate to tell you, but that’s going to fall out within five minutes of me stepping outside. My hair doesn’t hold curl.”
“With this much product, I could get a two-by-four to curl. Now sit still while I do your makeup.”
Like an obedient Barbie, Audrey didn’t move while Sam swiped, blended, brushed, accented and slicked. “Am I gonna look like a madam when you’re done with me?”
“You’re going to look like you, just…more.” She finished with one more coat of mascara. “There! Take a look at that.”
Audrey was glad she had to go into the bathroom for a mirror. It would give her time to put her poker face on before coming back out. But the face that stared back at her wasn’t that of a two-bit movie streetwalker. It was, as Sam had said, just her. Except her eyes were bigger, deeper and her cheekbones popped in a way that gave her face a subtle depth. Her lips were glossed a kissable pink. Not that anybody would be taking advantage of that. Still, she couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Wow. You’re really good at this.”
“I’m Southern. We’re trained in proper hair and makeup from the time we’re knee-high. Plus, my mama owns a salon. Now come back out and let’s pick your outfit.”
“There’s not a lot to pick from. I’ve been in jeans and cargo pants all week.”
“All the more reason to wear this.” Sam pulled a dress from her bag. Sleeveless, with a V-neck, it was deep blue, made of that stretchy stuff that never wrinkled. “You would look amazing in this.”
She would show her legs in that. The skirt would hit her just below the knees. But Audrey’s knee-jerk refusal stalled somewhere on the tip of her tongue as she thought about Hudson’s ease with her scars. He’d never made a thing of them, never made her feel like a freak show. They were simply part of her. If he could accept that, maybe she could, too. Besides, the boat house would be pretty dim lighting.
“Oh, why not?”
By the time Charlie showed up half an hour later, Audrey had managed to unearth a little enthusiasm for the prospect of a dance. Courtesy of Sam’s ministrations, she did look good—a fact which Charlie underscored with mimed heart palpitations at the sight of her.
“Hubba hubba!”
Audrey laughed. “You are incorrigible.”
“What I am is a lucky bastard to have two beautiful ladies to escort tonight.” He crooked both his arms. “Shall we?”
Audrey and Sam slid their arms through his.
Audrey stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for being a good friend, Charlie.”
He covered her hand with his. “Anytime, beautiful. Let’s go paint the camp red!”
~*~
The dance had already started by the time Hudson rolled back into Camp Firefly Falls. He could hear faint strains of the music thumping as he got out of his Jeep. Would Audrey be there, observing people or would she be off on her own somewhere, away from all the noise? She’d been all about the classic camp experience, and likely everyone was at the boathouse tonight. He trudged in that direction, with no better idea of what he’d say to make things right than he’d had when he left Syracuse two hours before. He’d had plenty of time to replay the scene in his cabin and realize exactly how badly he’d fucked up. He wasn’t sure there was an apology big enough to make up for that, but he was sure as hell gonna try.
As it had that first night, the boathouse was jumping. Michael Tully was tending bar again. Though he viciously wanted a beer, Hudson bypassed Michael and wove his way around the edges of the crowd, looking for a familiar flash of red hair. He didn’t find her on the first pass. Surely, she hadn’t left camp early just because he’d been a dick. God, he hoped he hadn’t ruined that for her, too. He started to head to the pottery studio but took one last look out on the dance floor. And there she was, dancing with Charlie and Sam.
She was wearing a dress. And damn, she was a total knockout with her hair and makeup all done up. He knew what it meant for her to show her legs, and for a moment, he was overcome with a fierce pride that she’d done it. It was different to see her all dressed up instead of in the casual camp clothes she’d worn the last couple of weeks—one of the many sides of her he hoped like hell he’d get a chance to see again after tonight.
Locked in on his target, Hudson wove his way through the dancing crowd, rehearsing his apology. He hadn’t gotten much past the basic, I’m sorry before she caught sight of him. For a fleeting second, she lit up with pleasure, but by the time he made it to her, she’d locked down that reaction. Not a great reception, but the momentary light gave him hope.
“Hi.” Brilliant opening, Lowell.
For once, Charlie didn’t insert himself into the conversation. He just nodded before he and Sam dropped back, presumably to give them some privacy. But the pair of them stayed close.
Audrey crossed her arms over her middle, her posture half-protective, half-defensive. “You came back.”
“Yeah. I had to see you.”
Over the sound system, Journey rolled into Thomas Rhett’s “Die A Happy Man.” Appropriate, if she’d forgive him. Hudson held out a hand. “Can I speak to you? Privately.”
She hesitated only a second before placing her hand in his. Sam took a step forward, but Charlie put a restraining hand on her arm. Audrey looked to her friend and gave a tiny shake of her head. Message received. Audrey still trusted him, at least a little. Sam clearly did not.
He wanted to wrap around Audrey, bury his face in her hair, and just hold her until his world righted again. But he’d walked away from the right to do that. So, Hudson led her outside to the pier instead. It seemed appropriate to have this conversation here, where it had all started. She’d been so hesitant that first time he saw her, when she’d followed him outside from the dance—so unsure of her reception. She wasn’t hesitant now. Her stride was confident, her back straight. This time he was the one who was uncertain.
Except, no, he realized. That hadn’t been the first time he saw her. He’d seen her across the lake that first afternoon. Even from that distance, he’d felt her sense of absolute peace. Envied it. He’d had that with her, for a time, and then he’d destroyed everything.
“I’m sorry.” He blurted it out, even knowing he was getting ahead of himself. “I know that doesn’t even begin to cover it. I was an asshole, and I hurt you.”
“Hudson, I get it. You were grieving.”
He didn’t deserve the understanding he saw in her face. “Don’t make excuses for me. There is no excuse for how I treated you. We both know why I did it, but I have to say it anyway.” He had to get this right. Had to fix what he’d broken. “You are the most compassionate person I have ever met. You completely overlooked the fact that I’m a surly, miserable bastard, and did everything you could to pull me out of the pit I’d fallen into. And you did it. You brought me back to life in a very real way. Then John died, and I just lost my shit.”
“It’s okay. Really, I accept your apology.”
“No. No, it’s not okay. You offered yourself up to help me, to support me, and I hit at you in the worst possible way. It’s not true. You don’t need rescuing all the time. You’ve been rescuing yourself perfectly well without me.” Hudson could feel himself losing control, hear the edge of it in his voice. Because he realized, standing here, seeing her again, exactly what it was he’d thrown away. He loved this woman, with her gigantic heart and fearless determination.
He wanted to reach for her but didn’t dare. Everything in him felt taut as a bowstring, ready to snap in two. He’d lost Steve. He’d lost John. Hudson didn’t think he could bear losing Audrey, too.
“The truth is, I’m the one who needed saving. I’ve been drowning. And I had to push you away because I wanted what you were offering so damned badly that if you didn’t back off, I was going to hold on and never let go.”
Audrey lost that carefully neutral expression, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. “Hudson.” She stepped into him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist.
Thank God. Thank God.
He drew her against him, feeling something deep inside quiet as her body settled against his. He did wrap around her now, pressing his face to her hair, inhaling her scent, feeling the thud of her heart against his. Right and perfect. It felt like coming home.
~*~
As they stood in the quiet night, the sounds of the party a world away, Audrey held him and stroked his spine. It was impossible not to think about the first time she’d seen him here—embraced him here—so aloof, holding himself back from life, from connection. An island unto himself. Every step of drawing him out had been a journey of discovery. And the real man had been so much more than her fantasies. Before the call about John, he’d been a changed man, still caring and protective, but also fun and alive. Vibrant. This Hudson was something else again. He was hollow and wounded, and it was breaking her heart.
“I’m sorry. I’m so goddamned sorry.”
The remorse in his voice was so hard to hear. He hated himself for the things he’d said far more than she ever had—ever could—and that hurt her. God, he was so brittle. But he’d come back to her.
His words played over in her head.
I wanted what you were offering so damned badly that if you didn’t back off, I was going to hold on and never let go.
She didn’t want him to let go. Relief and elation burned away the misery of the past days, wiped out everything but the need to comfort him. So, Audrey held on and lifted her mouth to his.
He kissed her like a drowning man chasing a last breath of oxygen. His desperation, his fierceness, rocked her. She gave him everything she had, pouring out all the worry, all the tenderness she felt, until the tension slowly leeched out of him.
Breath not altogether steady, Audrey stood, her brow pressed to his. I love you. The words beat against her breast, desperate to get out, but she held them back. It was too soon, too…something. She’d pressed too fast before and he’d bolted. Instead, she said, “God, I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. More than I ever imagined. I’d have come back sooner but the funeral was today.” There was no mistaking the thread of pain underscoring his words.
She wanted to ask how it had gone, but that felt wrong, too. How did any funeral ever go? In any event, he’d survived it and come back to camp. For her. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“The whole time, I kept wishing you were there, wishing I’d said yes.” He cupped her face, rubbing a thumb along her cheek. “I wanted to call, but I—I never dreamed you’d forgive me.”
“Of course, I forgive you. I’d never hold your grief against you.”
Hudson stepped back, running his hands from her shoulders down her arms to take both her hands in his. “I know we said we wouldn’t talk about the end of camp. But I need to know you’ll give me another chance. A chance for something beyond camp, beyond these two weeks. A chance for something real.”
Beyond camp.
Reality came crashing back down on Audrey. Tomorrow it was back to the real world. The real world she’d made plans for without him. Plans that would take her to the other side of the country.
He rolled on, coming as near to babbling as she’d ever heard. “I know it’s fast. I know it’s crazy. But it was crazy that we found each other in the first place, crazy that we both came here. And I can’t just walk away after two weeks. It’s not enough.”
Her tongue wouldn’t work. Here he was offering her everything she’d been dreaming of since she’d met him—or at least the possibility of it. She wanted to take the leap, to grab on to this—to him—with both hands and not let go. And yet…
“Audrey?”
She hadn’t answered him.
“I got the job at Berkeley.” She said it automatically, because it impacted them, and he needed to know. But she knew at once that absolutely was not what he needed to hear right now.
Hudson pulled back. “Oh.”
“I haven’t accepted yet.” She rushed to say it, wishing she could reel the conversation back a few clicks and take back her announcement, at least until she had a chance to think about the details, the ramifications.
“But you’re planning to.” It wasn’t a question.
“I was. I’m supposed to fly back to California next week to meet with the department chair.” But she’d made the plans without him in the equation. She’d had no idea he would come back, no idea he would want to pursue things with her beyond camp.
“Congratulations.” Somehow, he managed to dig up a whisper of a smile, though his eyes were dark, devastated. It was like watching everything she’d built with him over the past weeks crumble.
“I can push it back. Take some more time for us to talk about this.” She was a fucking prodigy. Surely, she could come up with a way to make this work. “Maybe we can—”
“No.” There was no anger in his voice. Just a heart-wrenching resignation. “No, I think this is a sign.” He reached out to skim a hand over her cheek. “I’m grateful I got the chance to know you.”
Don’t do this. Don’t close this door.
But Audrey couldn’t see an alternative. She wanted to get back to her career, needed to get back to a true mental challenge. That had been sorely missing in her life since the accident, and the prospect of having it back wasn’t something she could walk away from. Even if money were no object, maintaining a long-distance relationship from one coast almost to the other was madness. She couldn’t ask him to leave his family, his friends, his life for the prospect of what might be between them. There was nothing she could say to give them any hope, and they both knew it.
Hudson held out his hand. “I want to dance with you.”
Heart squeezing, Audrey took it. They went back to the boathouse, back to the noise and the people. As they stepped onto the dance floor, the music rolled into “The Time of My Life” from Dirty Dancing. How bittersweet and apropos. So many romantics watched that movie, convinced that Baby and Johnny stayed together. But Johnny hadn’t come back to be with her. He’d come back to make things right for her with her father, and to make things right between them before they said goodbye. Because all that could ever be between those two people who lived in different worlds was that summer fling.