Page 147 of The New Guy
Iampretty smart for a dumb jock. Finally smart enough to never let him go. “Will you come for Thanksgiving?”
“Yes,” he whispers against my lips.
“Will you consider jobs in Colorado?”
“Yes.”
He kisses my neck, and I shiver. “Gavin?”
“Hmm?” He tongues my earlobe.
“I’m really happy I walked into the tavern that night. I’m sorry I ever said I wasn’t. Will you forgive me?”
He kisses me. “I already have.”
Epilogue: One Year Later
DECEMBER
Jordyn setsdown her pencil with a thwack on the kitchen counter. “I thought you said five o’clock. It’s almostsix.”
I glance at the clock on the microwave. The townhouse kitchen is the nicest one I’ve ever had, and we often spend time here together, even when we’re not waiting for Hudson to walk through the door. “Ducky, he told me he wouldn’t come home until after you finish those math problems."
“Daddy.” She rolls her eyes at my ridiculous gambit. “Please.”
I bite back my smile. “The plane landed at five, but he has to get out of the Denver airport and drive home in the snow. Plus, it’s rush hour.”
She picks up her pencil with an aggravated sigh.
Hudson has been on a weeklong road trip, and we’re both eager to see him. Jordyn’s eagerness is probably compounded by her boredom with long division and her empty belly. I’ve outdone myself with a welcome home dinner. There’s a chili-rubbed brisket braising in the slow cooker, and we’ve been smelling it all afternoon.
I’m impatient, too, although food has little to do with it. A seven-day road trip is just mean, and I’d have a word with the GM if he’d listen.
I miss Hudson like crazy when he’s gone. He got a goal against New Jersey, though, in the last away game before the Christmas holiday, so at least my suffering has a higher purpose.
“What’s twenty-seven divided by…?” Jordyn stops mid-sentence and tosses down her pencil. “He’s here!”
My daughter must have supersonic hearing, because it’s another couple of seconds before the back door swings open. “Hey!” he cries, dropping his suitcase on the mat. “It’s almost like you’re waiting for me or something.”
Jordyn flings herself at him, and he catches her in a hug.
But I just stand there smiling at him for a moment admiring him in his suit and overcoat. The man really rocks a suit. I hope they never nix that NHL rule and let the boys dress down, because I’m really going to enjoy unbuttoning that finely woven shirt later.
“Now can we eat?” Jordyn asks, releasing him.
“Just a minute,” Hudson says. “There’s something I gotta do.” He rounds the kitchen island and steps closer, drawing me into his arms. “Happy to be home, baby.”
Then he smiles before his lips touch mine. He smells like a crisp snowy evening and feels like magic, so I kiss him hard.
“Ew,” Jordyn complains. “Can’t you do that later?”
Hudson draws back just far enough that I can see the smile in his brown eyes. “If you insist.” He winks, and it’s a wink that comes with a promise.
* * *
We sit down for dinner together, and Hudson and I play footsie under the table while Jordyn gives him a lengthy play-by-play of last night’s school’s holiday concert.
After we moved here last spring, I hadsomuch guilt about sending her to a new school for the second time in two years.
