Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Whitney

"You don't have to help me clean. I can finish after you and Beck leave." I swept litter into a dustpan.

Hope swiped the bathroom counter with a sponge. "I don't mind at all. And you'll have enough to do with unpacking all your boxes."

"Well, this gives me a chance to talk to you about something." I dumped the litter into the trashcan.

She stopped wiping and turned to me. "That sounds serious. What's up?"

I propped the broom and dustpan in the bathroom's corner and washed my hands. "I have epilepsy?—"

Hope's brows drew together in concern.

"—and I need an emergency contact if Hudson is unavailable."

"I'm happy to help. What do I need to do?"

"Not much. Just answer the phone if the hospital calls." I tried for a smile but failed. "I'll also send you some links to websites about first aid for seizures and after-seizure care." She recited her email address, and I made a mental note of it .

"Do you mind if I ask you some questions?" she asked.

I answered all of her queries, including those about my most recent seizure. I had to skirt around the circumstances of my relationship with Hudson during that seizure, though.

Hope dropped her sponge and hugged me. "I'm here for you. Whatever you?—"

"We're here for the desk!" Hudson called as he entered the front door.

I squeezed Hope in thanks. We broke apart and joined Hudson and Beck in the living room.

The men took opposite ends of my desk and lifted. Shoulder and arm muscles rippled under their T-shirts, and with a mischievous glint in her eye, Hope winked at me. I mashed my lips together to contain my grin.

As we made our way from my apartment to Hudson's, Hope held my door for the two men while I ran ahead and unlocked the door to his apartment. They carefully maneuvered the desk through the doorway and into the spare bedroom that would become my office, setting it in front of windows that let in natural light. Bookshelves flanked the desk. My dresser already stood against the wall in our bedroom—I was still getting used to thinking of it as ours—and boxes of my books and belongings littered the apartment. We had transferred everything I was moving to Hudson's.

Hope propped her hands on her hips and surveyed the results. "All done. Aren't you excited?" Her blue eyes sparkled as her gaze met mine.

My nerves jangled with conflicting emotions; I couldn't tell her the truth. Leaving my familiar home and independence behind to move in with a virtual stranger whom I'd married for health insurance was nerve-racking. Yet, butterflies took flight in my tummy at moving in with Hudson, even if it was fake. I cherished waking up cuddled next to him each morning. The way he treated Gramps and Mr. Darcy spoke volumes about his big heart, and we had fit into each other's lives like an intricately woven plot.

But our marriage was and would always be loveless.

I hoped I looked like a woman in love when I smiled. "It's a new chapter in our love story." I winked.

Hope rolled her eyes and groaned at the pun. "Spoken like a true romance novelist." Her expression turned sober and her brows furrowed. "But seriously, how did you keep your relationship a secret for months? We had no idea."

I glanced over at Hudson, who was listening intently and seemed just as curious to hear my answer as Hope. "We didn't want Gramps to get his hopes up by announcing anything prematurely. So we kept our relationship under the radar until we…we decided to get married." I shrugged, hoping I looked nonchalant though my heart pounded. "Living beside each other made it easy. We could have date nights at home without anyone finding out."

Hudson picked up the narrative. "We couldn't date publicly, because I could have been recognized. But now I can show off my beautiful wife."

His gaze drilled into mine, desire burning in his eyes. A shiver ran down my spine, and my cheeks heated. Could he see the desire reflected in my eyes?

Hope's head swiveled between us, her mouth hanging open in awe. "Wow," she breathed.

And just like that, I knew the truth.

We might not have love, but we had a passion that burned brighter each day.

And one of these days I would break down and act upon it.

As he had done every day, Hudson rolled from my side and out of bed at the crack of dawn, taking his warmth with him. But then he surprised me by leaning down and pecking me on the cheek.

That was…new. What was that for?

I covered my cheek with my fingers, as if I could hold the kiss to me and savor it.

He swiped a T-shirt off the floor and pulled it over his head. "Come on, Mr. Darcy," he whispered. "We have to get ready for Mommy." My husband disappeared out the bedroom door, my cat trotting behind him. I grinned at the parade. The two had bonded over their morning ritual.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stretched muscles still sore from moving boxes two days ago. I'd unpacked them the previous day. Everything was in its place, and I felt more at home. I particularly loved having a room devoted to my office. I had the privacy necessary to write while still sharing a home with Hudson.

Yawning, I slipped on my glasses, and the bedroom came into focus. I took care of business in the bathroom, pulled on a fluffy robe and slippers, and shuffled into the kitchen. Mr. Darcy sat on the counter next to an open bottle of sparkling cider, and my sleepy eyes popped open. "What?—"

Grinning mischievously, Hudson handed me a champagne flute filled with fizzing juice. "Happy book release day!"

I gasped, my heart flipping in my chest as I took the glass from his fingers. "You remembered!"

He picked up another flute and tapped it against mine. "Of course, I did. I even pre-ordered your book."

My veins buzzed like the bubbles that tickled my nose when I sipped the sweet drink. I couldn't stop smiling. My heart thrummed for Hudson and his thoughtfulness, particularly because I'd had no one to cheer me on since my mother died. With my chest light, I opened my arms wide, and he stepped into them. His warmth enveloped me like a blanket. I encircled his waist with my arms, squeezed, and laid my head on the soft cotton covering his powerful pecs. "Thank you."

He kissed the top of my head. "You're welcome."

I wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in Hudson's arms, which felt like home. But eventually, he pulled back slightly and our gazes met, his rich brown eyes full of tenderness. "I want to take you out on our first public date tonight, to celebrate."

I grinned and raised my glass to him. "I'd like that." Butterflies took flight in my stomach. A real date.

We'd gone about our relationship backwards, getting married before we knew each other. But what would happen if we dated? When we got to know each other better?

Could Hudson change his mind? Could we grow to love one another? My heart fluttered.

Hudson surprised me with a special breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausages that wasn't on his diet. He insisted on cleaning up the kitchen despite my protests. "Today is your day."

As we showered and got dressed separately, anticipation rose inside me. As soon as Hudson left for practice, I settled at my desk with a steaming mug of coffee. Mr. Darcy curled up in his usual spot behind my computer monitor. I opened my Amazon dashboard, eager to check the sales of The Dangerous Duke and the Bluestocking .

My eyes widened, and goosebumps rose on my arms. The book had already tallied more sales than on any previous book's release day, and it was still morning. I raised my arms in victory. "Yes!" Mr. Darcy opened one lazy eye and narrowed it at me. "Well, it's a big deal." He huffed and went back to sleep. "You're no fun. "

I loaded the book's page and checked the reviews. It had received 4.8 stars from fifty-six reviews, and a thrill ran up my spine. I peeked at a few. The positive reviews buoyed and motivated me. The negative comments were learning moments.

Reports of sales rankings lagged, but Bluestocking debuted at number three on the New Releases in Regency Historical Romance chart. To celebrate, I tore open the bag of Godiva dark chocolate sea salt caramels I'd bought for the occasion and popped one in my mouth. The decadent treat melted in my mouth.

I picked up my phone, opened Instagram, and found a notification that Hope had tagged me in a post she created promoting Bluestocking . I found the same post on Facebook. My belly warmed, and I fired off a text.

Thanks for plugging my book on social!

Hope

Happy release day! *heart emoji*

I grinned and double-checked that the posts and ads I'd scheduled had appeared and that my announcement newsletter had gone out. I obsessively refreshed my sales and rankings, checking for the latest numbers. By the time Hudson returned from practice, Bluestocking had reached number one on the New Releases chart and number five on the Best Sellers in Regency Romances chart. I shared my good news with him, explaining the various ratings, rankings, and charts.

He scooped me into his arms, lifted me out of my chair, and swung me around in a circle. I laughed and held onto his shoulders. He slowed his rotations to a stop, and I slid down his hard body until my feet reached the floor. He didn't let go .

His gaze held mine captive, his brown eyes full of longing. "I want to kiss you." His voice was low, husky. "Do I matter enough to you for a kiss?"

The problem was, he meant a little too much to me, and he'd never return my affections. Despite that, I craved his touch. "Yes. Please." I tilted my head up.

He swooped down and captured my mouth. An electric thrill ran down my spine at the caress of his soft, warm lips. I tightened my hold on his shoulders, my fingers digging into the corded muscles, and arched my body into his. He groaned and pinned me against him. Heat expanded in my chest, unfolding like the opening chapter of a captivating book.

His tongue glided along my lips, requesting entrance. I opened to him, and the gentle slide of velvet against mine brought tingles to my core. The flavor of cinnamon gum teased my tongue and the fresh scent of body wash enveloped me.

My core throbbed, and I couldn't get close enough. I ground my belly against his hardening cock. He hitched a breath and broke the kiss. No. I chased his mouth, but he rested his forehead on mine.

"If you don't want this to go any further, then we need to stop."

I slumped, my heart shrinking. I'd gotten caught up in the moment, but his cooler head had prevailed. Did I want to become intimate with Hudson? I needed to decide when my mind was rational. "You're right." I stepped back, trailing my hands down his arms and squeezing his hands. "I need to think, and I don't want to lead you on."

He nodded. "But we're still going out on a date to celebrate. Besides…" He grinned. "I kinda like you."

I chuckled, and my heart tripped. "I kinda like you, too."

"Where do you want to go for dinner? "

Opening my mouth to answer, I?—

He raised a finger in warning. "And don't say Taco Bell."

I grinned. "I was going to suggest a steakhouse."

"I know just the place." He pulled his phone from a pocket. "They book weeks in advance, but I'll call and they'll squeeze us in."

A thrill zinged through my tummy, and I wanted to dance on my toes. My husband asked me out on a date.

Hope flickered to life in my heart.