Chapter 16
Audrey was green by the time she arrived at the firehouse. That hadn’t been the plan, but she’d been more optimistic than she should’ve been about driving down I-81 for the first time since the accident. Maybe she should’ve taken a circuitous route through the city instead of the interstate. Too late now. She’d fought off the panic attack, so to her mind, the whole experience had been a win. Except for the fact that she was clammy with anxiety sweat and still feeling nauseous. Only some of that was from the panic attack.
It seemed her chest had been tight from the moment the bus had left Camp Firefly Falls. As if she couldn’t quite take a full breath away from Hudson. Stupid. But the sensation hadn’t gone away. It had been three weeks since she’d had any contact with him. Three weeks during which she’d moved heaven and earth. Three weeks in which she’d changed her whole life.
It would be worth it. It had to be.
She climbed out of her car and smoothed her hands over the skirt that was already smooth, then strode toward the four-bay fire station. One of the bay doors was up, and she cautiously stepped inside. “Hello?”
A head popped out from behind the big truck in front of her. “Help you ma’am?”
“I’m looking for Hudson Lowell.”
The young man, who couldn’t have been more than twenty, came toward her, wiping his hands on a towel. “He’s not here.”
“Oh.” Flummoxed, Audrey just stood there. She’d been so busy rehearsing what she wanted to say, she hadn’t given any thought to the fact that he might’ve changed shifts or taken a day off. Or what if going back out on calls hadn’t worked? What if he’d had a relapse of his PTSD symptoms?
Another man stepped out of a room off to the side. “What’s going on?”
The young guy jerked a thumb in her direction. “She’s looking for Ma.”
Ma? “Beg your pardon?” Audrey asked.
“Hudson.”
“You call him Ma?”
The second man strode over and flashed a grin. “Nickname. Because he’s always taking care of everybody, like a den mother.”
“Yeah, he’s good about that,” she said, and ached. “I’ll just call him. Thanks.” She’d wanted to surprise him.
That’s not why you didn’t call in the first place.
She’d been afraid he wouldn’t answer, or, worse, he’d tell her he didn’t want to see her.
As Audrey turned to leave, a woman dressed in cargo pants and an SFD t-shirt materialized from somewhere. She gave Audrey the once over. “He’s up at the picnic.”
“Picnic?”
“Yeah, the department’s sponsoring a big picnic for the Fourth. He was on first shift here this morning so he could attend this afternoon.”
Suddenly Audrey felt stupid. It was the Fourth of July. She’d been so focused on everything else, she hadn’t considered the holiday. He’d be with family and friends, probably. Busy. Surrounded by people. Her belly clutched again.
He’s going to want to see you. You’re not coming all this way and chickening out.
She squared her shoulders. “Where?”
They gave her directions. Twenty minutes later, she finally found parking and began the hike through the park, looking for a familiar set of broad shoulders. Scents of grilling meat and fried dough permeated the air. As the nausea faded, her stomach began to growl, reminding her it was coming up on dinner. But she didn’t want to meet Hudson again with a hot dog or funnel cake in her hands.
There were people everywhere. Families. Children. Clusters of friends. Lines snaked out from vendor tents and assorted games. How would she ever find him amid this crowd? She set up a mental grid and began to crisscross the park, methodically scanning faces. Daylight was fading. All around her, people were setting up lawn chairs and blankets, talking about the fireworks to come. She was running out of time. Maybe she should just give up until tomorrow. Call him like a sane person. Wrestling with disappointment, she turned back toward the parking lot.
And there he was. Smiling. With a tall, willowy blonde in his arms.
Audrey stopped dead, her stomach dropping to her toes, her chest cranking like a vise. After everything they’d shared, everything he’d said, she hadn’t expected he could move on so fast. But they had no understanding. They’d had no future. There was nothing stopping him from finding a rebound, moving on to someone else.
Pulling back from his embrace, the blonde saw her first. Her brows shot up, and she said something to Hudson. He turned, surprise flickering over his face. Audrey couldn’t make herself move, not to approach him and not to retreat. Her heart beat an erratic tattoo against her ribs and her palms went damp.
Hudson said something to his companions—because of course he was with a group. His family, probably. And everybody was staring at her. He made it over to her in less than a dozen strides. There was no quick, impulsive hug, no kiss hello. He looked…guarded and wary.
“Hi,” she managed, hating the catch in her voice.
“Hi, yourself.”
Audrey knew she was staring and couldn’t seem to stop. She drank in the sight of him, absorbing the snug fit of his gray t-shirt across his broad, capable shoulders, and the faint shadow of stubble on his solid jaw. Her tongue felt thick and clumsy, and the carefully prepared speech she’d been rehearsing simply disappeared. “God, it’s good to see you.”
She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but he didn’t look happy to see her. He didn’t look angry either. Audrey didn’t know what to do with this neutrality. She couldn’t read him, and that made her anxiety crank higher. Maybe this was a mistake.
Hudson jerked his head. “Come and meet my family.”
The nerves ratcheted up another notch as he led her over to the group, who looked on with undisguised curiosity.
“Everybody, this is Audrey Graham.”
Half a dozen people nodded or waved at her.
Hudson reeled off introductions, most of which Audrey was too rattled to catch. He gestured to the blonde he’d been hugging. “And this is Rachel.”
John’s widow. Audrey glanced at Hudson and got a tiny confirmatory nod. So maybe that hadn’t been what she’d thought. Still, none of this was going how she’d planned.
Use your manners. “Pleased to meet you all.”
“I’m thrilled to meet you.” Rachel stepped in, giving Audrey a hard hug.
Startled, Audrey could only stand there, wooden, as the other woman squeezed.
“Thank you for giving him back to us,” she whispered.
Nothing in her repository of proper social behavior seemed the right response to that, so she gave Rachel an awkward half-hug in return. “You’re welcome?”
“Hudson’s told me so much about you,” Rachel continued, stepping back as if they hadn’t just shared one of the world’s most awkward hugs.
Uncertain, Audrey glanced at Hudson, but he was still doing an impression of a stone wall.
Hudson’s mom, Janie, smiled. “How do you know Hudson, dear?”
“That’s…a little complicated. Your son saved my life two years ago.”
Predictably, several pairs of eyes flicked downward to the legs left exposed by her summer sundress. Hudson briefly pressed a hand to the small of her back. The automatic gesture of support and reassurance loosened some of the knots in her stomach.
“We reconnected at camp,” she finished, feeling lame and awkward and wishing they could go somewhere private to talk.
Before she could ask him, the younger woman—Hudson’s sister?—asked, “What brings you to Syracuse?”
Audrey didn’t want to get into this with a crowd. She had so much she needed to say to him, to explain. But they were all looking at her, waiting for some kind of answer. “Business.” The word tripped from her tongue automatically and felt wrong. It hadn’t been business that had brought her to Syracuse.
“Oh yeah? What do you do?” Janie asked.
“She’s a research professor at Berkeley,” Hudson replied. There was a curious mix of pride and strain in his tone.
Audrey met his eyes. “No, I’m not.” She wanted to get that out there as fast as possible, since telling him about Berkeley in the first place had been the moment she’d felt what was between them fracture.
It was only as Hudson went utterly still that she realized he’d been practically vibrating with nervous energy. “What do you mean you’re not?”
“I went to California. Once I told them about the change in my direction of research, they didn’t want me.”
A crease appeared between his brows. Audrey wanted to kiss it smooth. “I don’t understand. They already offered you the job.”
“They offered me a job based on a continuation of the research I began at Duke. They weren’t interested in applied sociology, and at this point, I’m not willing to do anything else.” This was more than she’d meant to say in front of their audience, but she had Hudson’s undivided attention now and knew she couldn’t leave him hanging.
“I’ve been in mainstream academia my entire career. Hell, my entire life. After the accident, all I could think about was getting back on track. Then I met you. And you made me want—” You. “—something different. Something more. So, I left California, and I came here.”
“Here?” The word was sharp, and she could see the lines of tension beneath his carefully blank expression.
“The thing about academia is that it’s a terribly small world. The department chair at Berkeley put me in touch with a former colleague of his—Rhoda Prescott. She holds a joint appointment between Syracuse University and the VA hospital. She’s starting a new program working with veterans on coping with PTSD and reintegration into society. I convinced her to hire me to develop a new branch of the program on coping with survivor’s guilt.”
A muscle jumped in Hudson’s jaw.
Audrey felt a flutter of panic. What if he didn’t understand? What if he thought her shift in research was because she thought he was damaged? That she thought she could fix him?
She knotted her hands. “I meant what I told you before, that I couldn’t imagine going back to the rigors of academia unless it was for something that really mattered. I want to help people. You just helped me figure out the focus.”
Hudson was staring at her. “So, you walked away from a shot at Berkeley, changed your entire research focus, practically produced a job out of thin air, and turned your entire life on its ear—because of me?”
Her knees felt loose and her stomach dipped like she was at the top of a precipice. “Do you remember what you said to me that day at the top of the ropes course?”
“You’ll have to take the leap.”
Audrey nodded once and spread her hands, feeling exposed and vulnerable and more terrified than she’d been in her entire life. “I’m taking it. No guidewire, no safety harness, no net.” Oh please, catch me.
Tension radiated off him in waves, but still, he said nothing.
She swallowed. “If you’ve changed your mind, I understand. We haven’t even talked in—”
She didn’t finish the thought, didn’t finish the breath, because suddenly his hands were buried in her hair and his mouth was a fever on hers. All the days and all the miles of distance evaporated. Heart leaping, she fisted her hands in his shirt and kissed him back—at least until the applause and whistles started. Blood rushing to her cheeks, she broke away, feeling twin urges to laugh and cry with relief.
“Twenty-six days,” he breathed.
Audrey blinked at him. “What?”
“Since we last talked. Twenty-six days, nine hours, and somewhere around forty minutes, give or take. I’m not sure what time you got here. Time kinda stopped.” His eyes warmed with a smile, like the sun sparking off the surface of the ocean. “I’ve been counting.”
The clamp around her chest loosened, and she took her first full breath in a month. Relief had her sagging against him.
Hudson tightened his hold, taking her weight. “You okay?”
“So okay. It’s just, you’ve melted my knees again.” She aimed for a stern expression and missed by a mile, unable to repress a grin. “Terrible habit of yours.”
His smile was blinding. “Who needs knees anyway? You’ve got me.”
And that, Audrey thought, as he kissed her again, hard and fast, was everything she’d ever needed.