I 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 me over her shoulder. “Don’t worry—I’m on it!”
“Maybe she’ll have better luck than I did,” I mumbled as I 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?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
HUDSON
I playedNash’s words on repeat the entire drive to my momma’s house. I couldn’t deny Nash was right—Kenna wouldn’t listen unless she wanted to, and that was what worried me. I hoped her fleeing this morning had more to do with her family and less to do with me, but I wasn’t so sure. Not after the night we’d shared. And not when I was set to leave in a week, theoretically leaving her behind. That was the last thing I wanted.
What I needed was to show her how good we were together, but if she’d already begun shutting me out, I had my work cut out for me.
After parking in my momma’s driveway, I shot off a quick text to Caleb, letting him know I 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.
I still had to figure out what the hell I was going to do with that dog. Whenever I’d pictured myself having a dog, it was always a massive, protective breed. A German shepherd or a mastiff. Never a tiny fluff ball I could lift in the palm of my hand.
And yet, the thought of sending CB to the shelter without anyone lined up to adopt her had my chest tightening withunease. I 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 my concern over what to do with her would be a moot point.
Without knocking, I let myself into the back door of my childhood home. “Momma?”
She popped her head around the corner from the living room, a huge smile brightening her face. “Hey you.” With her arms held wide, she strode toward me before engulfing me in a hug.
I returned her embrace, breathing in the scent of home, and squeezed her a little tighter. The whole situation with Kenna’s daddy had dredged up some unpleasant memories I would rather forget. Like when my momma had been the one in the hospital bed and I’d been thousands of miles away, desperate to give anything to be by her side.
I was so damn grateful she was still here with us. That I still had someone waiting on me to come home.
“You all right?” she asked.
All I could do was hum in acknowledgment, because what else was there? Somehow, in the short time I’d been home, a hope I’d been valiantly trying to ignore had crept up until it was a constant buzz in the background of my thoughts. The trouble was, it was a hope I couldn’t have. Not now. Not yet.
She gripped my shoulders and held me at arm’s length, looking up into my eyes. “You get Mac all squared away? How’s her daddy doin’?”
“He’s all right. The surgery took longer than expected because of some complication with the bypass, but he was in recovery when we left last night. The doctor seemed to think he’ll be back to bein’ an asshole soon enough.”
She gasped and tried to cover up her laughter with a cough. “Hudson Matthew…I can’t believe you said that about a hospital-ridden man.”
Resting my ass against the kitchen counter, I crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged. “Him bein’ in the hospital doesn’t change the fact that he’s an ass, Momma. You know it. I know it. The whole damn town knows it.”
“Well.” She clucked her tongue and picked some piece of imaginary lint off the front of my shirt. “Still.”
At my chuckle, she finally broke into a smile. Though it melted from her lips after only a moment as she rested her fingers on my forearm. “And Mac?”
Blowing out a deep breath, I scrubbed a hand down my face. “That’s what I’m here for, actually. I was hopin’ you’d be able to help me with something.”
She pulled out the chair at the dining table and patted the seat next to her. “Let’s see what we can do. What’s goin’ on?”
I spun the other chair around and straddled it backward, resting my folded arms over the top. “She’s stressin’ herself out—puttin’ too much pressure on herself. She thinks she doesn’t bring any value to her family—or anyone, if I was readin’ between the lines correctly.”
“Well, that’s nonsense.”
“That’s what I tried tellin’ her, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“And what’re you hoping to do?”
