The bells on the front door chimed as someone tried to open the door, and Hudson turned to find a woman about his age with long red hair peering in through the glass.
Hudson unlocked and opened the door. “Hey, sorry, but we’re closed.”
“What!” she barked. “Nooooo. I need my fix. Surely you don’t expect me to go over there—” she gestured behind her toward town hall “—and deal with his highness’s bullshit without heaven in the form of a glazed croissant, do you?Do you? Are you really that cruel?”
“I—” He furrowed his brow, having no idea who this woman was. And then it hit him—he’d seen her once before on his first day home. She was one of Kenna’s friends.
“Hey, Avery,” Nash called, filling in the blank for Hudson. “Sorry ’bout that, but we’re tryin’ to finish up as quick as possible.”
“Lilah didn’t leave anything for me, did she?” she asked, a hopeful note in her tone, her hands clasped under her chin.
Hudson chuckled and shook his head. “’Fraid not, sorry.”
“Dammit,” she whined, then spun in a circle before facing him again. “Hey, did you get Mac home all right from the hospital?”
“Um…yeah.”
“Oh! Sorry to bombard you with questions before even introducing myself,” she said, her accent lacking the familiar drawl he was used to hearing in these parts. She definitely wasn’t from the South. She thrust out her hand toward him. “I’m Avery. Bestie to Will. Not-quite-bestie-but-still-excellent-friend to Mac. Nice to finally meet you, Hudson.”
“Hey. Good to meet you.” He gripped her hand, giving it a quick shake.
“Did she leave town hall when she got my note last night?”
He pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows. If Avery was as good of a friend to Kenna as she said, then she’d know exactly what Kenna did when she came across the note. Namely, ignore it.
“What do you think?”
“Goddammit!” She stomped her high-heeled foot, balling her hands into fists. “Did she at least get some rest?”
“Not a whole lot, despite my efforts.”
Avery’s eyebrows shot up, and he worried too late he was supposed to keep that little tidbit to himself. “That so?”
“Yeah, well, she was gone this mornin’ when I got up.”
Avery’s spine snapped straight. “Is she at town hall right now?”
He nodded. “Since before the sun came up. I tried gettin’ in, but the doors were locked.”
“God, she’s a pain in my ass,” Avery grumbled, already marching toward town hall. She held up an arm and waved at him over her shoulder. “Don’t worry—I’m on it!”
“Maybe she’ll have better luck than I did,” he mumbled as he shut the door behind her, making sure the sign was flipped to closed.
Nash chuckled. “C’mon now, Hud. You know better than that. This is Mac we’re talkin’ about. Pretty sure no one’s gettin’ through to that girl unless she wants them to.”
And wasn’t that the damn truth?
Hudson playedNash’s words on repeat the entire drive to his momma’s house. He couldn’t deny Nash was right—Kenna wouldn’t listen unless she wanted to, and that was what worried him. He hoped her fleeing this morning had more to do with her family and less to do with him, but he wasn’t so sure. Not after the night they’d shared. And not when he was set to leave in a week, theoretically leaving her behind. That was the last thing he wanted.
What he needed was to show her how good they were together, but if she’d already begun shutting him out, he had his work cut out for him.
After parking in his momma’s driveway, Hudson shot off a quick text to Caleb, letting his friend know he would be out to the cabin later this morning to help finish up the shingles and make sure CB wasn’t causing too much trouble.
He still had to figure out what the hell he was going to do with that dog. Whenever he’d pictured himself having a dog, it was always a massive, protective breed. A German shepherd or a mastiff. Never a tiny fluff ball he could lift in the palm of his hand.
And yet, the thought of sending CB to the shelter without anyone lined up to adopt her had his chest tightening with unease. He needed to bring her into the vet’s office and see if she was microchipped. Maybe she had a family waiting for her, and all his concern over what to do with her would be a moot point.
Without knocking, he let himself into the back door of his childhood home. “Momma?”
