––––––––

“Wait, so you’re telling me you two,” Emma does some weird sexual hand gesture before continuing, “right there.” She points toward the window that less than forty-eight hours ago Hudson had me pressed against.

“And other places.” I try to contain my smile but it’s a useless attempt. I haven’t been able to keep it a bay since Hudson showed up at my sister’s wedding Saturday.

“I’m so proud.” Emma fans her face like she’s drying tears that aren’t there.

“Only you.” I laugh.

“I’m still super bummed I missed him at the wedding.” She pouts out her bottom lip dramatically.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have bolted for the door the second the formalities were out of the way.”

“Whatever. I wasn’t feeling that well.” She huffs, leaning back against the edge of the island.

My eyes go to where she’s leaning and a quick smile darts across my lips.

“Oh my god! Here too.” She jumps away from the counter.

“What?” I ask innocently from my place on the floor. I’m sorting through a few décor pieces that were delivered today.

“Please tell me you cleaned up after yourself.” She swipes her finger across the counter and holds it up in front of her face like she’s inspecting for dust.

“What are you doing?” I can’t help but laugh at my crazy friend.

“Making sure there’s no man business on the countertop.”

“And if there were and you got it on your hand?” I gasp out through laughter.

“I think I’d be okay with that.” She shrugs, wiping her hand on the side of her shorts.

“God, I love you.”

Emma smiles wide. “I know.”

Our conversation is interrupted by one of the electricians who’s working on wiring a chandelier in the master bathroom.

He’s worried about the size of the fixture and wants to make sure we think it fits the space before finishing the install.

Emma excuses herself to help him, leaving me alone to sort through the chaos in front of me. When I ordered pieces I had room ideas in mind but things change when you have everything in front of you. It’s up to me to figure out what should go where, which will be much easier once the furniture arrives next week.

My mind wonders back to Hudson, as it does most times when I’m left to my own devices. I think of his smile, his laugh, the way his voice sounds muffled against my skin. Never in a million years did I dream I’d find myself falling so hard and fast for a man. I wish I could say it was in my control, that I have a handle on the way I feel about him, but the truth is I don’t. Not even a little.

I also wish I could say I’m not completely terrified by the whole thing, but I am. Getting involved with a man like Hudson is a risk. There’s going to be people out there challenging my claim to him. It’s the way of the world and when you’re as good looking as Hudson, it’s to be expected. But add on the fact that he’s touring and surrounded by thousands of fans several nights a week. It adds a whole other level of insecurity that most relationships don’t have to deal with.

I love that Hudson is a musician. I love that the man I met five years ago stayed true to his passion and has found success in doing what he loves. I just wish it didn’t make our relationship so much more difficult.

When I sit down and think about it, our timing really is shit. I’m in the middle of two major remodeling projects and he’s on the road for his very first tour. We’re both extremely busy, not to mention that this is all so new and exciting to him. I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before I bleed into the background.

“Len, did you hear me?”

“Huh?” I look up to find Emma standing over me.

“Dad called. I have to run over to Mitchell’s and work out some issue with the tile for the second bathroom. The warehouse sent the wrong pattern and he wants me to see if it will still work because we can’t really afford to wait the two week window for them to send the right tile.”

“Again?” I question, this being an issue we deal with too often.

“Dad says he’s done with Mitchell’s after this. Finally he listened to us.” She huffs.

“Only took him two years.” I snort.

“You good here?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this covered. There’s not a ton I can do right now anyway. Once I go through and check all this to make sure we got the right items and everything is in good shape, I think I’m gonna head over to Manor house and check in with the crew. I want to see how they’re getting along with that load bearing beam.” Manor house is the other project we have going on the other side of town.

“Okay, sounds good. We’ll make plans to meet for dinner in the next few days, yeah? I’m dying for some girl time.”

“I’m in. You name the time and place.”

“Maybe we can wait until Hudson’s back in town and go on a double,” she suggests.

“I thought you wanted girl time.”

“I do, but I’d be willing to trade it for some sexy eye candy. Besides, I’m pretty curious to see how he’s changed. I mean I Googled him but that doesn’t count.”

“You Googled him?” I gawk at her.

“What? He’s a country artist who’s album is picking up major steam. Did you know it jumped to number eight overall on iTunes this week?”

“It did?” I say, kind of shocked.

I mean, I know Hudson is very talented and his album is amazing – it’s just weird to think of him that way. I guess I don’t see him as Hudson James the Country Star. To me he is and will always be Hudson Demasi: the quick witted, sexy man I met at a bar five years ago.

“Your man’s a big deal, Len.”

“I’m starting to gather that.” I blow out a breath.

“Hey.” She crouches down next to me, her hand coming to my shoulder. “Country star or not, he’s lucky to call you his girl. Don’t get caught up in the hype of it all. He’s just a boy and you’re just a girl.”

“Thanks, Em.” I smile when she drops a kiss to the top of my head before standing.

“Alright, chicka. I’m out. Call me if you need me.”

“Will do. Love you,” I call after her.

“Love you too.”

——

I reread Hudson’s message at least ten times over, the swarm of butterflies in my belly seeming to catch me a little off guard.

I’m in bed at my condo. It’s just after midnight. Normally I would be sound asleep but for whatever reason I’ve been restless for the last couple of hours, tossing and turning, not able to get comfortable.

Me: I miss you more.

I type out after a full minute has passed.

Hudson: Not possible.

Me: Totally possible.

Hudson: Don’t argue with me, woman.

Me: Don’t you argue with me, country star.

I wait about thirty seconds before sending another text.

Me: Where are you right now?

Hudson: Phoenix. It’s hot as hell here.

Me: Well it is August.

Hudson: My girl is trying to be cute. I’m aware it’s August, smartass.

Me: Screw you. I am cute.

I giggle out loud, reading over the part where he called me his girl. My heart does something weird in my chest before I read the new message that came through.

Hudson: You’re more than just cute, Miss Claire. You’re downright sinful.

Me: Sinful?

Hudson: Sinful.

I knead my bottom lip between my teeth, wishing so badly that he was here right now. That I could look at him, touch him, see his handsome face.

Hudson: What are you doing right now?

Me: Lying in bed.

Hudson: Really??? And what is it that you’re doing in that bed?

Me: Wouldn’t you like to know.

Hudson: I repeat. Sinful.

The smile that stretches across my lips is wide enough to split my face in half.

Me: What about you? What are you up to right now?

Hudson: Just finished my set a few minutes ago. It’s just after ten here. Travis just took the stage about ten minutes ago. Once he’s finished and the crew breaks everything down, we will be on our way to Colorado for three different shows.

Me: I miss your voice.

I’m not sure why I typed that or why I didn’t stop myself from hitting send. I mean, it’s true. I miss everything about him, but that doesn’t mean I have to vocalize every single thought I have. Before I can overthink it too much, my phone starts ringing in my hand, Hudson’s face popping up on the screen. It’s a picture I took of him at my sister’s wedding. Hudson was standing at the bar getting us drinks and I couldn’t resist the urge to capture him in that moment. So laid back and carefree, not to mention unbelievably sexy.

“Hello.” I try to keep the nervousness from my voice as I answer.

I don’t know why I’m nervous all of a sudden. Scratch that. Yes I do. It’s because he’s Hudson and he always makes me nervous.

“Hey.” His voice is a little hoarse but damn does he sound good.

“Hey.” I smile around the word, closing my eyes before reopening them slowly. “You didn’t have to call.”

“I missed your voice too,” he cuts me off before I can reply. “Fuck, I miss every single thing about you. What are you doing to me, Miss Claire?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” I giggle. “How was the show?”

“It was good. Hot as hell. I’m pretty sure I lost ten pounds in sweat.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, the thought of Hudson’s incredible body dripping with sweat as he dominates the stage is a vision too sweet not to take a minute to imagine.

“But you loved every second of it.”

“You know I did.” He chuckles low. “There’s still days I wake up and feel the need to pinch myself. It all still seems so surreal.”

“You deserve it, Hudson. Seriously, you are so unbelievably talented.” I pause. “Congrats on the album sales by the way. I saw this morning that you’re now at number four overall on iTunes. That’s incredible, Hudson.”

“Thanks. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. We’re dropping the next single in a couple days. I’m eager to see how that will affect the overall album sales.”

“I give it a week and you’ll be sitting at number one.”

“I don’t know that I would go that far. But number four? For a debut album? Never in a million years did I see that coming.”

“Do you find that you’re getting more recognition since the album has been doing so well?”

“I’ve noticed a difference at shows. There’s more buzz surrounding me than there had been. Not to mention I went from having one song that people knew, to now most of the audience is singing nearly every song right along with me.”

“I can’t imagine how that feels.”

“Pretty fucking incredible.” His happiness is portrayed in his tone and it makes me ecstatic. “I wish you could come to a show.”

“I have been to a show,” I remind him.

“I know. But this would be different. You could watch the show from the side of the stage, meet the guys, get a feel for how everything works. It really is quite the experience.”

“Where are you after Colorado?”

“We have two shows in Texas after that. One in Houston and one in Dallas.”

“Are you going to visit family while you’re there?” I ask, knowing that Austin isn’t  that far from Houston.

“I have a day off after Houston but I’m not sure what the game plan is. The last I heard my parents and Kelly are coming to the show. Colton arranged to have tickets held for them so I’ll probably catch dinner with them or something afterward.” He pauses for a long moment. “You should come.”

“To Texas?” I squeak.

“Why not? You could fly here. We could get a room together. We don’t head to Dallas until Sunday morning so we’d have Friday night and the whole day Saturday together. Then you could meet my family. It’s only fair considering I’ve met yours.”

“Um, I’m not sure I’m ready to meet your parents,” I admit.

“Why not?”

“Because. What if they don’t like me?”

He laughs, the deep vibration sending chills straight through me.

“There’s no way they won’t like you. Besides, it wouldn’t matter one damn bit if they didn’t. Wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

“You say that now,” I tease.

“Come to Houston.”

“When’s the show?” I ask, not able to deny how amazing it would be to get to see him.

“Next Friday.”

“I don’t know if I could get off work. We have so much going on right now and the beach house is so close to being done.”

“All I hear are a bunch of excuses,” he teases. “Come to Texas.”

“I’ll think about it,” I promise, not really sure if there’s anything to think over. When Country Star Hudson James asks you to come to Texas to stay the night with him and meet his family, you go to Texas.

“I’ll have Colton pick you up at the airport and keep you company if you get here early. It’s usually difficult for me to slip away right before a show.”

“I said I’d think about it, not that I’d come,” I repeat, a smile on my lips.

“Let me know when you find a flight that works. I’ll buy your ticket.”

“I can afford a ticket if I choose to come and that’s a big if,” I cut in.

He chuckles. “You’ll be there.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself,” I tell him.

“If you think about me even a fraction of how often I think about you, there’s no way you won’t make it happen.”

“I see, so you’re testing me then.” I laugh.

“Maybe.” The humor in his voice is undeniable. “Alright, babe. I’m gonna let you get some sleep. I’ve got a few things to wrap up before I have to be back on the bus.”

“Okay,” I say, trying my best to mask my disappointment but not sure how successful I am.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Dream sweet, Lennon.” And the call ends.

Letting out a loud sigh, I stare up at the dark ceiling for about sixty seconds before I peel myself out of bed and cross the room to where my laptop is charging on my dresser.

Disconnecting the power cord, I’m back in bed seconds later, the computer powering up in my lap. It takes me all of five minutes to find a flight to Houston that’s scheduled to arrive at four p.m. next Friday which will give me plenty of time to make it to Hudson’s show.

Shooting off a quick email to Mr. Barrett and Emma explaining I’m going to take next Friday off work, I purchase the plane ticket before I really give myself time to think about it.