Jules’ Junk may seem like just an antique shop, but it’s so much more. I rehab and restore everything I absolutely can, or I repurpose and breathe new life into items that can’t be fixed. What I really wasn’t expecting was Hudson. He only comes into town once every two weeks to get supplies, and then he goes back to his home on the mountain where he stays until his next trip down.
He’s been doing this for a few months now, and it’s almost like a cat and mouse game. I see the heated looks he sends my way when he doesn’t think I’m paying attention, but it’s hard not to when his presence is like a beacon to my soul.
“Come on, Beau. Let’s go say hello to Hudson,” I tell my big-eared, pot-bellied Frenchie. Beau was a gift to myself last year. Being single at the age of twenty-six and needing someone to talk to besides myself, he was the best gift ever. His soft, black, velvet-like fur, the way he loves to cuddle in the curve of my knee while sleeping, and how he’s always by my side gives me comfort. I swear he even listens to me when I talk, cocking his head to the side with his cute face.
I walk to where I last spotted Hudson. He’s looking at the new industrial hanging light. That thing was a son of a gun to hang, especially by myself.
“Hey, Hudson, sorry about that. I had a customer ask me to ship one of my handmade signs. How are you today?” I ask while wiping my hands down the half-style apron I have tied around my waist.
“I’m good, Jules. How’s your week going?” His voice is smooth like the finest whiskey money can buy.
“It’s going, staying busy. Not so much with in-store purchases, but my online orders seem to be going through the roof lately. Are you doing your usual stock up before heading home?” I’ve seen the place Hudson bought. It’s everything money can buy and then some, yet he always remains aloof. No one really knows what he does up there.
“Yep, going to start on a dining room table. Holt’s didn’t have the type of wood I need in stock, so I have to wait for the delivery to come in. It’s going to go nicely with the rest of the furniture I’ve been building for the inside of my house.” I stand there with my mouth gaping open. This is the most Hudson has ever said at one time to me. Sure, he comes in, we say hello, he looks around, and sometimes he’ll buy something, but sometimes he doesn’t.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asks to get my attention.
I close my jaw before saying, “Sorry, uh… I guess you could say that.”
“How much is the light fixture? And how the hell did you get it hung by yourself?” If I’m not mistaken, he almost sounds upset.
“It’s twelve-hundred dollars. The artist who built it let me know it’s one of a kind, and he won’t be reproducing it. And I hung it myself. Who else would help me?” I respond.
“Christ, woman, are you trying to kill yourself?” he grunts, running his fingers through his hair. It’s shoulder-length, and most of the time, he has it tied back, but today it’s hanging loose around his shoulders. His locks are a rich chocolate color laced with lighter shades of brown throughout.
“What? No, not me. Hudson, I do this all the time. It’s okay,” I calmly state.
“Next time, call me.”
“Well, Hudson, it’s not like I have your phone number, and I wasn’t even sure if we were friends up until today.” I place my hand on my hip, trying to figure him out.
“Oh, we’re friends, all right, Jules, even with your love of eighties music,” Hudson says with a grin.
“Hmph, we’ll see about that.” I walk away, hell-bent on grabbing the ladder, just in case he purchases it.
3
Hudson
Beau stayed back with me when Jules marched off, probably because I bent down to pet him. Otherwise, I know he’d be with her. “She’s a firecracker, isn’t she, boy?” I mumble out to the dog.
“I heard that, Hudson Walker,” Jules says. I shake my head, stand up from petting Beau, and then look at the light again. She’s selling it for way less than she should. In a bigger city, this fixture would sell for an easy five thousand dollars. I’m seriously going to have to talk to her, especially if she’s making online sales, too.
Jules is back a few minutes later, holding a green step ladder in her hands. It looks ancient and like it’ll fall apart at any time.
“No fucking way,” I grouse.
“What do you mean, no way? I’ll have this down in just a second.” She places the ladder on the floor and takes the first step up on the rickety thing. I grab her by her hips, pulling her back and off of the rungs. Her backside to my front has my raging cock, which was settled down, back up again. I’m sure she can feel it as much as I can feel the softness of her curves.