“Well, in that case,” I say, “you guys should probably get going. If you leave now, you’ll get home in time for a late dinner. Hudson, their bags are in the guest room, will you help with them?”
“Of course.” He sets the roses on the table in the kitchen and sets off into the house as if he’s been here a million times and knows exactly where the guest room is.
Mom’s face is bright red. “You’re kicking us out?”
“I’m shortening your stay. You don’t approve of me or my life here, and I’m an adult. I don’t have to host hostile people in my house. I love you, mama. You’re family. But I want you to think long and hard about what I said, and why you never think anything I do is all right. After you think about that for a while, then we’ll talk.”
Hudson comes out from the back hallway with their bags. “You have a lovely daughter, Mrs. Everett. She’s done really well for herself here, and I look forward to seeing her photography all over Phoenix.”
“What are you talking about?” she says sharply.
He looks at me like he’s shocked. “You didn’t tell her?”
I shake my head no, even though I don’t have any idea what he’s talking about. He clears his throat. “I’m a business owner, and I’m also friends with one of the premiere commercial architects in Phoenix. We’re talking with him, and there’s a possibility that Christine might be his go-to photographer for art in his new buildings.”
My mother at least has the grace to look surprised. And for just a second, she even looks pleased. “Well, that’s very nice.”
“You’re right, it is,” he says, as I open the door for him. Out by the car he shakes her hand since she wouldn’t let him do it when he first arrived. “I hope that I can get to know you more in the future.”
She doesn’t say anything. It’s because she doesn’t lie, and she’s not sure she wants to get to know him better. Hudson wraps his arms around me from behind while we watch them drive away, sour looks on their faces. “Thank you,” I say.
“Smother them with kindness,” he says.
I practically snort. “They won’t appreciate it.”
“Maybe not, but it could be good in the future if they don’t already hate me.”
I lead him back into the house. “Well, this is home. I know it’s small.”
He shrugs, “Is that what they said? I think it’s a fine size house. Especially since you live alone. Were you ever to live with someone else, it might get a little bit cramped.”
“True.”
Sitting down on my couch, he grins. “I like it.”
“Wait a second,” I say. “How did you get my address?”
Hudson’s grin turns a little sheepish. “I looked up your billing address from the Halloween ticket.”
“Sneaky,” I roll my eyes. “I could be really mad at you, you know. For invading my privacy like that.”
“Are you mad?” It’s a genuine question. He’s not smiling anymore.
I walk over to him and straddle his lap, pressing my lips to his. “No, I’m not mad. You showed up at the perfect time.”
“I didn’t know how else to show you I was serious.” His arms pull me closer. “I knew there wasn’t anything I could say that would convince you that I don’t care about who we are in the club. It’s fun, but I want you. Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing. Especially because I’m falling in love with you.”
My breath stills in my chest. The words don’t seem scary when he says them. They seem natural and perfect and of course that’s what I’ve been feeling. How could I not? “I love you too.”
His lips crash onto mine, and he squeezes me tight so that our bodies are entirely aligned. We’re so close that I can feel how hard he is and what he wants. “The bed is more comfortable.”
“Which bed? Yours or the guest room?”
I laugh against his lips. “I don’t care, just take me to a bed.”
He picks me up and carries me to my room, laying me out and following me down. I can’t seem to stop kissing him. “This was one of my fantasies too, you know.”
“Being in my bed?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Telling you I love you, and having you say it back.”
The smile on my face is so wide that it hurts. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
12
One Year Later
The crowd of people that have showed up here is insane and daunting. I’m not sure how Hudson did it. There’s no way this many people are here because they’re fans of my work. I glance towards the entrance of the gallery where still more people are coming in.
What Hudson told my mother was true, he did talk to his friend the architect, and now my photographs are in most of the new corporate buildings in Phoenix. But tonight, this is my first solo exhibition. Not the photos I gave to the buildings, but the ones that I truly love. The ones I hung onto because they were truly special to me. I even went back to that fountain. With Hudson. It’s the only photo in the entire gallery that has a person in it. He was taking a look at the fountain and the way the light was hitting his face was perfect and I just snapped the shot.
My lucky shot of a lifetime.
It’s the only photograph I’ve taken that my mother likes. She’s not here—she still doesn’t like what I’m doing with my life. But I can see her trying and things are getting better. Slowly. Partly it’s because she likes Hudson more than she likes me. His ‘smother with kindness’ defense has worked better than I’d ever hoped.
Speaking of Hudson, I see him weaving through the crowd towards me. He’s taller than everyone else, so he’s easy to spot. He hands me a glass of champagne. “I got your favorite.”
I take a sip and my eyes go wide. It’s the champagne from our first night together at the Halloween party. “Thank you! This is delicious.” We’ve had it again only a handful of times since then, and every time it manages to be a special and amazing night. Even though I shouldn’t, I’m choosing to see this as a good omen.
“Hey, come with me for a second,” Hudson says. “We’ve got a few minutes before you have to give your little speech.”
Right. My speech. I really don’t want to give a speech, but I need to thank everyone for coming. Hopefully I don’t throw up in the process.
Hudson leads me out into a garden right outside the gallery. It’s almost dark, and the heat is dropping quickly the way it does in the fall. Our shoes crunch in the rocks of the garden. “Do you know what today is?” he asks.
“Other than the gallery launch?”
He laughs. “Yeah, other than that.”
I try to think and come up with nothing. “I’m sorry, my brain is fried. I can’t think of anything.”
A hand slides around my waist and pulls us together so we’re pressed front to front. “Today is the anniversary of the coffee incident.”
“Is it really?” I gasp. “I’m so sorry I didn’t remember.”
“As long as you remember it in the future,” he says, voice filled with mock admonishment. “But even if you don’t, I’m never going to forget the day I met the love of my life.”
It feels like everything goes quiet, like it’s just the two of us in the whole world, the way it always does when he talks like this. I love it.
“Which is why,” he says, “I thought it was the perfect day to give you this.”
“Give me what?”
“Just something I’ve been saving for a while. I can’t think of a better time.”
I suddenly feel vertigo because he lets go of me and it feels like he’s falling. But he’s not falling, he’s kneeling. Oh my god. “Christine Everett. I will forever be grateful to the universe that you spilled coffee on my shirt. I love everything about you, and I always will, and I don’t want to go any longer without knowing I’ll be by your side forever. Will you marry me?”
Tears spill over my eyes and it’s hard to find my voice. “Yes, of course I wil
l.”
Hudson places the ring he’s holding on my finger, and then he’s standing again and he’s kissing me and it’s the best kiss ever. “I love you,” he says in between kisses. And he keeps saying it. Keeps saying it even as he lifts me up and presses me against the wall of the gallery, a window just to our right. His hands raise the hem of the dress I’m wearing, and I hear a zipper. “I need to be inside you right now,” he says.
“Yes.” I don’t care that we’re feet away from the people that are there to see me as an artist. I’m getting married and I want my fiancé to fuck me like he never has before.
Hudson pushes aside my underwear and then he’s inside me. God, I’ll never get tired of the way we fit together. Every time he pushes himself inside me it feels like we were meant to be that way. He thrusts his hips upward, and I lose my breath. I grab onto his shoulders, bracing myself against the wall and squeezing down on his cock just the way I know he likes it.
He groans, moving harder, faster, and the stucco of the wall behind me scrapes my shoulders through the fabric of my dress. I love it. I bite my lip to keep from crying out, this angle allowing Hudson to thrust against the spot where I need it most, and I’m already moaning. His breathing is hard too, and I know we’re both too caught up to last long.
“Miss Everett?” The voice of the gallery director calls out into the darkness.
“Shit,” I whisper. “They must be ready for me.”