Allie’s eyes flew open and she froze. Her heart raced as she listened through the darkness, praying the sound that woke her had been merely in her head. But then she heard it again, a guttural moan of tormented pain.
“No . . . leave him alone . . . don’t take him.”
Hudson’s cries had her bolting out of bed. When she reached the top of the stairs she saw him on the couch, his fists clenching the sheet beneath him, his body twisting as if being pulled. At first she assumed the nightmare was about losing Nick, that he was reliving that horrible moment when his brother had been literally torn from his arms. But then he said something else. Something that stopped her in her tracks.
“His eyes are open . . . make him breathe . . . Dad!” The last word came on a primal scream that hit her like a physical blow.
“Hudson! Wake up.” But his eyes remained closed, his head thrashing and his legs kicking. She ran to him, dropping to her knees beside the couch and shaking him. Beneath her hand she could feel his heart pounding against his sweat-soaked T-shirt. “Hudson, wake up. Please.”
He bolted upright, his lungs heaving for air. The look in his eyes was wild and scared as his gaze darted frantically around the moonlit room before finally coming to rest on Allie. “What is it?” he gasped. “What’s wrong?”
“You were having another nightmare.”
Hudson let out a heavy exhale and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
Allie sat down on the sofa beside him. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, already knowing full well the answer.
“No.”
“It might help.”
“I said I don’t want to discuss it.”
“You can’t keep boxing these things up, Hudson.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”
“But you’re not sleeping.” Her voice grew quiet. “And I’m worried about you. How long has this been going on?”
“Most of my life.”
“How often?”
“It depends. They had stopped for a while.”
“When did they return?”
Hudson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Recently.”
“Since we flew back from Europe?
“Yes.” He ran a hand back through his sweat-slicked hair. “It’s my anxiety over your safety. Once this mess is resolved I’ll be fine.”
“Stop staying that.” She could see the nightmare clinging to him. He wasn’t fine, and he wouldn’t be, not until he dealt with his demons once and for all. “The situation with Julian may be what brought them back, but you said yourself, you’ve had these all your life.”
“And I’ve managed.” He made a move to stand, but Allie stopped him.
“I’ve only witnessed a handful of these,” she said. “But from what I’ve seen, they’re tearing you up inside. Please, talk to me. Tell me about your nightmares.”
“Trust me, you don’t want a front row seat for the fucked up show inside my head.”
“Then tell me about your past.” Allie knew whatever haunted Hudson stemmed from his youth. Perhaps if she could convince him to talk about those early days, she could get to the root of what plagued him. “I’m marrying you tomorrow, Hudson.” She reached for his hand. Turning it palm-up she traced the spot where there would soon be a wedding band. “We’re going to exchange rings and vow to be partners . . . in everything. For better or worse. Please, let me in.”
His eyes shifted from where her fingers traced his hand to her pleading gaze. “What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Tell me about your family. What was it like when you were young? From what little I know, it doesn’t sound like things were always bad.”
The tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly. “Everything was perfect, actually. I mean, we didn’t have money to burn, but we were happy. And my parents were truly in love with each other. Hell, for my mother, the whole world revolved around my dad. I came earlier than planned and Nick, well, he was a surprise. But both of us always felt wanted.”
Allie knew very little about their father other than he’d been out of their lives since Hudson and Nick were very young. “What was your dad like?”
A small, wistful grin formed on Hudson’s lips. “He was the ultimate. Complete hands-on. He looked a lot like I do, but had a better sense of humor. And he could play just about any song on the guitar after hearing it one time.”
“He sounds great.”
Hudson nodded. “He worked hard to provide for us—nothing fancy, but life was good.”
“So what happened?”
His brow creased and his smile faded. “I fucked everything up, that’s what happened.” He was quiet, and for a moment she thought that was as much as he would say, but then he surprised her by continuing. “We were driving back from a camping trip. Extravagant vacations weren’t an option. We did road trips with the whole roughing it thing. It was late and we stopped so my dad could fill the tank up with enough gas to get us home, but I was starved and wanted some junk food from the store. My mother told me no, that she’d fix me and Nick PB&J’s on white when we got home.” He grimaced. “White fucking bread. Can’t stomach the stuff now. But the selfish bastard I am, that wasn’t good enough for me. I pitched a goddamn fit until my dad caved. He told me to pick something out for Nicky, too, but while I was debating the choices, a guy burst in waving a gun.”
Allie couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips.
“He kept shouting for us to get down on the floor and not to make a fucking move or he’d cap a bullet in our skulls.” Hudson swallowed hard. “I was pants-pissing scared, but my dad was so fucking calm.”
“Were you the only two in the store?”
He shook his head. “There was a lady trying to buy a pack of smokes, from what I could see, and some old man jonesing for his Colt 45. The guy with the gun kept yelling at the cashier to pop open the register, but the poor kid was shaking like a leaf, dropping the money, change clattering all over the floor. I thought maybe he’d hit some sort of panic button or reach for a gun of his own, but he was just scared shitless like the rest of us. There was only about fifty bucks in the drawer, so the guy started barking at him to open the safe. The kid tried to reason with him—kept saying he didn’t know the combo, only the manager did—but the guy was out of his fucking mind.”
Allie held her breath. In that moment she would have done anything to rewrite history and change what she now realized would be the end of the story. But all she could do was listen as Hudson recounted the horrible details of that night.
“My dad was all calm and cool. Goddamn fucking hero tried to talk some sense into that piece of shit, even offered to give him the last of our cash just to get him the hell out of the store. But when my dad reached for his wallet, the guy swung his gun around and fired without even thinking.” Hudson’s entire body tensed. “The round nailed him in the chest and he hit the floor. I didn’t know what to do. He was struggling to breathe and there was blood everywhere, so I pressed my hands on the wound.” His voice cracked. “I couldn’t stop it. The blood kept oozing between my fingers.”
Allie’s throat tightened as the scene Hudson was describing played out in perfect clarity in her mind.
“The guy took one look at my dad and ran like hell. My mom and Nick had watched the whole scene from the parking lot. Someone must have kept Nicky back but my mom was right there in seconds, screaming and crying. The whole thing was total chaos but slow-mo at the same time. People shouting, sirens in the distance, and blood . . . so much fucking blood.” His grip tightened on her hand. “My father died before the paramedics arrived. I’ll never forget the moment his eyes lost focus and his hand let go of mine.”
Hot tears slid down Allie’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Hudson.”
“If I would have been content with a fucking peanut butter and jelly sandwich, my dad would still be alive. My mother would still be alive. Nick would have never spun out of control. Everything about our lives would have turned out differently. We could have been happy, but I fucked everything up.”
“You think everything that’s happened since then is somehow all your fault?”
He gazed at her incredulously. “The chain of events started that night.”
And there it was, the sobering guilt that Hudson carried on his shoulders. It was what drove his every action, what haunted him even in his sleep.
“You were just a kid. That’s what kids do, they harass their parents.”
“They’re dead because of me. Nick was taken away because of my actions. There isn’t an apology adequate for what I caused, nor any forgiveness for it.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Hudson.” Her voice was soft, but the unwavering conviction was clear. “Your mother obviously had problems that ran far deeper than this, but Nick certainly doesn’t blame you. In case you haven’t noticed, he thinks you hung the moon.” She gave him a small, reassuring smile. “And from what you’ve told me about your dad, I imagine the last thing he would want is for you to be putting yourself through this hell.” Allie rested her free hand on the back of Hudson’s neck, her fingers stroking through the damp hair at his nape. “You have to forgive yourself.”
He frowned. “Easier said than done.”
They were quiet for a few moments before Allie broke the silence. “Thank you.”
He met her gaze with questioning eyes. “For what?”
“For trusting me enough to let me in. I want to share everything with you, Hudson, the good and the bad. And I want to help you work through this, but I’m not a professional. Will you at least consider talking to someone about this?”
He let out a resigned sigh. “I’ll consider it. For you.”
Allie knew he needed to seek help for himself, not just because she wanted him to. But she also knew it had been a huge step for him to open up to her, and that considering therapy was an even bigger leap. For that she was profoundly grateful. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
The look that flashed in his eyes told her he was back from the darkness. “Enough to drop this whole sex embargo?” he asked, cocking a lopsided grin.
“Not a chance.” She laughed, then her expression softened. “But I’d like to stay here with you for a bit if you don’t mind.”
Hudson smiled as he pulled her to lie next to him on the couch, her back to his front. “I thought I made myself clear last night,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “I want you to stay with me forever.”
Allie squinted at the clock above the fireplace mantel. The bright light filling the room told her it was at least late morning, but still, she hadn’t expected both hands to be pointing to the twelve. Normally she didn’t sleep half the day away, but the past few weeks had obviously taken their toll. And talking with Hudson in the middle of the night had brought her a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in a very long time. There was still so much that was unresolved, but the last barrier had fallen. They were a team, and they would face their obstacles together, head-on.
Beside her, Hudson stirred in his sleep and his arm tightened around her waist. Allie closed her eyes and relished the feel of his body pressed along the length of hers. Lying next to him in that sleepy fog that hovered just at the brink of consciousness was one of her favorite ways to start the day. And this wasn’t just any day. It was her wedding day.
Her wedding day
.
The last remnants of sleep vanished instantly and Allie bolted upright. Her hands flew to cover Hudson’s face. “Don’t open your eyes.”
Hudson groaned and a sleepy smile curved his lips. “I do have blindfolds for this kind of thing, Alessandra,” he said, his voice thick with sleep. “Although I’d prefer if you were the one wearing it.”
Allie rolled her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to see me.”
He chuckled. “I promise to still marry you despite your bedhead.”
“Funny, Chase. But unless you want to postpone the wedding to another day, keep your eyes closed. It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony.”
“You’re not seriously subscribing to that superstition, are you?”
“Given our track record, I’m not taking any chances. We need all the good mojo we can get. So do we have a deal?”
“Far be it for me to mess with mojo.” He smiled beneath her hands. “I will keep my eyes closed. You have my word.”
Allie slipped from the couch and scurried to one of the guest bedrooms. Once she was locked safely inside, she called out to him. “All clear.”
A moment later there was a tap at the door. “How long do you plan on staying in there?” Hudson asked from the other side.
“Well, that depends. How long until the ceremony?”
“Four hours.”
“Then I plan on staying in here for four hours.”
A deep laugh vibrated from the other side of the door. “No need. I have a few last-minute arrangements to see to. Give me a few minutes and then the place is all yours.”
“Arrangements? What are you up to?” But from the other side of the door came only silence. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and a clatter of dishes in the kitchen.
What the hell is he doing?
Her answer came in the form of a note slipped under the door.
Lunch is in the kitchen and a bath is waiting upstairs.
Meet you at the altar.
—H
Meet me at the altar? What altar?
“Hudson?” She waited a few minutes, and when no reply came, cracked the door open to find . . .
Nothing. No sign of Hudson, but also no further explanation. There was, however, a lovely lunch of fruit and cheese and crusty bread arranged on the kitchen island, along with a can of her favorite sparkling water. Seemed her fiancé had thought of everything. As for the rest of the arrangements, she just had to trust that all would be revealed when the time came.
Allie made herself a small plate of food and took it with her to the master suite. As promised, a bath had been drawn, and judging by the delicious scent that filled the air, jasmine and vanilla scented oils had been added to the water. The two-sided fireplace that separated the bathroom from the bedroom had been lit, and a cluster of candles flickered atop the slate tiles that ran along the tub’s edge.
In almost no time Allie’s clothes were in a pile on the floor and she was soaking in the oversize copper tub. The warm water felt like heaven on her sore muscles, and before long the aches she’d incurred from a night spent sleeping on a couch began to fade. She rested her head against the edge of the tub and closed her eyes. Thoughts of the evening to come filled her mind, and she smiled. Before the night was through, Hudson would be her husband. They would exchange rings and vows as they pledged their lives to each other.
Her eyes popped open. While she was confident Hudson would have provided his and hers wedding bands, the subject of vows hadn’t been discussed. Would they be repeating traditional vows after the minister or would they be reciting their own? Deciding to be better safe than sorry, she sat up in a rush, sending water sloshing over the side of the tub, and reached for a towel.
Telling Hudson how she felt about him was going to be the easy part; keeping it to a reasonable length would be the challenge. As she wrapped herself in a white, fluffy robe, she began to laugh.
This
was her stress—writing vows that didn’t drag on until dawn. The contrast to her previous foray into wedding planning was so extreme it was comical. And for the hundredth time that day she knew she’d made exactly the right decision.
Despite her initial reaction to the contrary, she loved the idea of eloping. From the moment they’d met, there had been forces at play keeping them apart. After all they’d been through, all they’d overcome and still had yet to face, it made perfect sense to start their lives together on their own terms.
And the location Hudson had chosen was perfect. He was right—this was where she knew with all certainty that she loved him. They would no doubt marry again for the sake of family and friends, but she loved the idea that their first vows would be spoken at a place that meant so much to both of them.
With those thoughts in mind, she grabbed a paper and pen from the kitchen and began to put her feelings down on paper. In the end she decided on two versions: one that was a set of vows she could recite in a timely manner; the other an outpouring of her thoughts and emotions in the form of a letter she would give to her new husband as a wedding gift later that night.
Her husband.
Would she ever get used to calling him that? A warmth spread through her at the realization that she would have a lifetime to find out.
When she was finally finished writing, it was nearly two o’clock. Hudson had said the ceremony was at four, which left her plenty of time to get ready. He’d offered to have the Grand Geneva Hotel send over a few members of the spa team to pamper and prepare her, but Allie had declined his sweet offer. Preserving the intimacy and privacy of the day was important to her, which meant keeping outside involvement to the bare minimum.
So instead of lying back while a bevy of white coats fluttered around her, Allie got ready for her wedding alone, with a thousand butterflies fluttering in her stomach and Frank Sinatra crooning from her iPod. She kept her makeup light and natural, the way she knew Hudson liked it, and arranged her hair in a pile of loose curls held in place with tiny, pearl-tipped pins. A few tendrils hung down to frame her face, and a pair of simple diamond studs adorned her ears. She sat back and admired her reflection. Even she had to admit she was glowing, although it had nothing to do with the bronzer she’d brushed over her cheeks and everything to do with the man she was about to meet at the altar.
Speaking of her mysterious man . . .
What the hell has he been up to all day?
There was only one way to find out, and with hair and makeup done, it was finally time to get dressed.
The walk-in closet was full of clothes, with everything from ski pants to lingerie lining both sides. At the very back hung a row of long, white garment bags. Allie unzipped them one at a time. There was no denying that the wedding dresses the store had delivered were absolutely stunning. Elegant gowns in fabrics ranging from silk to tulle, some with elaborate beading and others more simple in their stylish sophistication. Any one of them would have been a wonderful choice. But instead Allie selected a white angora sweater that hung with the more casual outfits and paired it with her favorite dark jeans. And instead of crystal Jimmy Choos she donned a pair of fur-lined boots that laced to her knee. The outfit was a far cry from the gown she was to have worn when she married Julian, and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Because today, Alessandra Sinclair wasn’t becoming the Marquise Laurent in an elaborate ceremony that was nothing more than a glorified merger. Today, Allie Sinclair was becoming Mrs. Hudson Chase in a simple exchange of vows with the man who was not only her first love, but her last.
But when she emerged from the bedroom she found the house was still empty. Hudson was nowhere to be seen, and there certainly wasn’t an altar. Perhaps he was outside again? When she reached the kitchen she opened the French doors that led to the deck. It was empty and the lanterns on the posts remained unlit. She was about to go back inside when she heard the unmistakable neigh of a horse. She followed the deck as it wrapped around to the front of the house. There, at the foot of the stairs, sat a horse-drawn sleigh. The majestic Clydesdale greeted her with a whinny and a shake of his head, causing a giggle to escape her lips.
“Right this way, Miss Sinclair,” the driver said, gesturing to the small set of stairs waiting alongside the gleaming white sleigh.
“Let me just grab a coat.”
“No need.” He reached for a white parka and held it open for her. She might have been getting married in jeans and a sweater, but her thoughtful fiancé had made sure to provide outerwear that was bridal white. “There’s a blanket on the seat,” the man added as he helped her into the coat.
Allie took his hand as she climbed into the sled. Sure enough, a luxurious, white faux-fur throw sat folded on the crushed-velvet seat. Hudson’s attention to detail astonished her, right down to the bouquet of white roses hand-tied with a wide satin ribbon.
With a snap of the reigns, they were on their way, the sleigh gliding through the woods behind the house. The sun had nearly set and the fresh snow glittered a silvery blue beneath the runners. After a few moments a small, rustic barn appeared in the distance. Through the frost-covered windowpanes, Allie could see the flicker of candles. She smiled to herself, knowing inside that barn stood the man she loved, waiting for her to walk down the aisle and into his arms. But when the door swung open, her breath caught and her steps faltered. Though she’d been thinking about this moment all day, nothing she’d imagined came close to the sight that greeted her as she walked into the barn.
Candles covered nearly every flat surface, casting the barn with a soft, warm glow. Above them tiny lights twinkled like stars stretched across the night sky, and white blooms cascaded from the hay lofts, creating the feel of an indoor winter wonderland. A white runner dotted with rose petals formed an aisle that ran from the door to the far side of the barn, where more flowers formed an arch over the minister. But it was the sight of Hudson that had her frozen, barely able to breathe, let alone walk. His eyes met hers and the smile that stretched across his face told her he felt it, too, the longing that had pulsed between them since the day they’d first met. It was a tangible force, a magnetic pull bringing them together no matter the obstacles or odds. Only now it was even more than attraction and lust and desire and need. Now it was love.