Page 90 of When the Time Is Right
I spent most of that week racking my brain about the place Hudson said would take stuff on consignment, so Sunday night it was the perfect excuse to send him a text.Me: Hey, knucklehead.Only about a minute passed before he replied.Hudson: You rang.Me: I need the name of that bike shop you mentioned that’s close by. I can’t remember.Helpful as ever, he shot a link to my phone with all their contact info and directions to the shop in Roswell.Me: Thanks.Hudson: You doing okay, babe?How could one silly nickname always give me so much hope?
And for the sake of talking the talk, I was done hiding things from him. Besides, he’d asked.Me: I’m getting there. Still missing you like crazy.My phone rang immediately.
“Hi,” I said and curled into the pillow he used on the other side of the bed.
“I miss you too.” There was something about the tone of his voice that was utterly comforting, and even if we weren’t together like either of us wanted at the moment, hearing him made me feel so much better. “I had a conversation with a little birdie,” he said.
“Oh, yeah? What did they say?”
“Told me you talked to your family about everything.”
I knew it would get back to him quickly, but hell, I’d only been home from Mom and Dad’s for a few hours. Cal had come alone since Vanessa was not feeling great, and even if it’d sucked and most of us had cried and I felt like I’d been through an emotional washing machine, it also felt freeing to have it all out there.
“Is your little birdie a geeky dude who wears dress pants on the weekends?”
“No, it was the geek’s dad.”
My father? David Lawson? I’d be reminding Daddio that loose lips sink ships the next time I saw him. On the other hand, I’d dropped a bomb on them, and they knew that Hudson had found out too. You could say I was on an honesty-is-the-best-policy journey as of late.
“Yeah, well, if all of you gossiping Gertrudes were planning some kind of intervention, you can shit-can it. I’m sort of kicking ass in the get-right-with-the-Lord department lately.”
He chuckled and it made my skin tingle. “I’m proud of you, Lex.”
I felt a sting in my eyes, but I wasn’t having it. This was a good moment, and damn it, we deserved one.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m proud of me too. Whatever. So does this time-out include phone sex or what?” I had my doubts, but there was no harm in trying.
He sighed. “No. But that won’t keep me from dreaming about being inside you all night. At least, it hasn’t so far.”
“Fine. If you’re going to be stingy with your big cock, while you’ve got your rolodex open, do you have the contact information for a good gigolo on my side of town?”
“No. You still belong to me. So shut up and go to sleep.”
I exhaled and pulled the pillow closer. “You’re no fun. Good night, party pooper.”
“I’m all the fun you’ll ever need. Now keep showing the world who’s boss. Eating Lo Mein off of Jesse’s big fat belly just isn’t the same as yours.”
I laughed—really laughed—and it was a balm to my weary soul. If I’d needed another reminder of how much I loved him, I’d gotten it with one silly call. He was worth fighting for.
We both were.
“Good night, Lex,” he said and hung up.
On Monday, being the model employee I was at Warren and Warren, I spent most of my workday answering emails for Plush Pet, printing out the handful of orders I’d received over the weekend, and taking a peek at the couple of custom order quote requests in my inbox. I’d work on them at home, but I was excited to dig into the new projects.
And I made a call to the guy in Roswell. He’d known Brenden, remembered him well, and wanted me to send photos of the stuff I had. He was thrilled to have the first shot at the whole collection and even said he’d be interested in buying all of them if the price was right.
That evening, after texting him photos of what was in the storage unit, he offered me twenty-five grand for all of it, explaining to me what every item was worth. Since he’d made the offer, as is and sight unseen except for my pictures, I told him it was a deal.
He would come later that week with a trailer and a few guys to haul them all away.
That left only one thing.
The house.
So, after having some landscapers out to clean up the yard and getting it inspected by a guy Shane had recommended, I found myself cleaning it top to bottom every night after work the whole next week. There’d only been a few minor things that needed to be fixed, and since I wasn’t trying to make a ton of bank off of it, I was told the property was in fine condition to sell.
