“Good.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
A comfortable silence fell between us, broken only by the crackling of both the fire in front of me and the static on the line. I grinned at nothing, just happy to be talking to him.
Oh god. I had it bad.
“I’m looking forward to our date,” I said before I could overthink it.
“Me too,” he replied, and even through the static, I could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve already made reservations. And secondary reservations in case something goes wrong with the first ones.”
“Of course you have. Let me guess—you’ve also mapped the most efficient route from the office to the restaurant, factoring in typical traffic patterns for that time of day?”
“Not yet, but thanks for the reminder.”
I laughed, shaking my head even though he couldn’t see me. “You’re ridiculous.”
“If you say so.” There was another burst of static, and his voice cut out momentarily. “—losing signal. Might have to?—”
“You’re breaking up,” I said, straightening in my chair. “Hudson?”
“—call tomorrow—” More static. “—good night, Landry.”
“Good night,” I said, but the line had already gone dead.
I stared at my phone for a moment, feeling depressed. It was stupid to miss someone I’d just talked to, someone I’d see again in two days. Yet there I was, already looking forward to his next text, his next call, our upcoming date.
“Well, shit,” I muttered to the empty fire pit area. “I’m falling in love with Hudson Gable.”
CHAPTER 12
8 Hours Between Heaven And Hell
HUDSON
Tonight was the night. I was going to tell Mari everything, and maybe she’d hate me, but maybe she’d appreciate that I was honest.
I adjusted my tie for the third time, studying my reflection in the mirror. The restaurant I’d chosen required formal attire, which meant fancy suit, crisp white shirt, and a forest green tie that Mari had once offhandedly mentioned brought out my eyes.
My apartment felt too quiet, too empty as I moved through it, checking my watch, my wallet, my keys. In less than an hour, I’d be sitting across from Mari, confessing my betrayal. By tomorrow, she’d likely never want to speak to me again.
But it had to be done. The wedding was a week away. My parents were arriving tomorrow. Eleanor Trolio was completing the feature and the creative director contract. The walls were closing in, and I couldn’t continue the deception any longer, not if I wanted even the slightest chance of salvaging something with Mari.
A voice in the back of my head kept telling me I should wait until after the wedding, though. I ignored it.
She deserved the truth.
Somewhere between bickering over lighting and dancing in an empty ballroom, I’d fallen in love with her. Her brilliance, her chaotic energy, her unflinching honesty—everything about her had become essential to me. The thought of losing her made it hard to breathe, but continuing to lie to her was unbearable.
I’d rehearsed what I would say. Started with how I’d seen her app designs on her computer months ago, before the engagement party when we’d started working together. How I’d used her ideas in my meeting with Eleanor Trolio. How the feature and job offer were built on her innovation, not mine. How I would make it right.
I’d beg for forgiveness, offer to call Eleanor and confess everything. And if she never wanted to see me again after that... well, I’d have to accept it.
The doorbell rang at 7:00 PM. I opened the door to find her standing there in a floral pink dress that hugged her curves, her blonde hair cascading over one shoulder, her lips painted a bright red. She was breathtaking.
“You’re staring, Gable,” she said, but her smile took any sting out of the words.
