Page 147 of Bridesmaid By Chance
That kiss though, God—it was everything I expected and more. Soft and deep, like we were connecting on a different level, a higher level, one I never would have expected with him given how closed off he’s been. And yet, he opened up last night. Something happened to him, something Hardy told him that made him open up. If I only knew what it was.
The elevator opens, and I’m about to get off when I realize I’m not at the lobby level. An older woman walks onto the elevator and smiles at me right before doing a double take.
“My goodness,” she says, pressing her hand to her neck. “Are you okay?”
Shit…I forgot about the bruises.
“I am.” I put on a smile. “Don’t even ask, one of those incidents you wouldn’t believe if you heard it.” I chuckle. “Let’s just say I’m never playing croquet again.”
She laughs, thankfully. “Ah, a dangerous sport if not played properly.”
“Tell me about it.”
When we reach the lobby, I think about going back up to the room tocover up but then skip it because who cares. The croquet story worked; I’ll use it again if I need to.
I head out of the lobby and across the street to Joe and the Juice. Before I can do so, the door opens and Hudson walks through with two cups of coffee in hand and a bag.
“Excuse me,” he says, not even noticing me.
“Hudson,” I say, surprised to see him.
He pauses and turns. When his eyes meet mine, they soften. “Sloane, what are you doing—fuck.” He steps in closer and bends to look at my neck. “Fuck, did I do that?”
I clear my throat and nod. “Um, yes, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Pardon me,” a man says as he tries to get through the doors.
Hudson and I move to the side, the bustle of the city going by us as he looks more closely at my neck.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I lost control.”
“It’s fine,” I say and then meet my eyes to his. “I liked it.”
“I shouldn’t have been so rough.”
I press my hand to his arm. “I liked it, Hudson. I liked it a lot.”
He wets his lips and then nods. “I, uh, I came down here to grab you some coffee and a croissant, but they don’t have croissants, so I grabbed banana bread.”
“You…you did?” I ask.
His brow knits together. “Why do you ask like that?”
“Because when I woke up and you weren’t in the room, I thought that maybe you were, I don’t know…regretting things.”
He leans in close and says, “I fucking came inside you last night. I claimed you as mine. Do you think I would regret that?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s been up and down with you.”
“I know,” he says softly and then sighs. “Want to go for a walk?”
“I’d love that,” I say.
He hands me my coffee and the bread, and then drapes his arm over my shoulder and directs me down the street toward The Green Park. Wedon’t say anything to each other, rather we just enjoy the moment. It’s a beautiful day in London. Crisp morning air, blue skies dotted by white, cotton-like clouds, and the green of the grass is gorgeous, the leaves on the trees just starting to turn.
We reach a bench in the middle of the park, and he helps me down by holding my hand before taking a seat himself. He drapes his arm over the back of the bench and turns toward me. I do the same, moving in close so I can feel his body’s warmth. He cups my cheek and drags his thumb over my jaw, a loving look in his eyes.
I went from being on the verge of tears this morning, thinking this man regretted everything about last night, to him lovingly cupping my face while we have coffee in a park in the middle of London together.
