12. Ember

12

EMBER

Mom: You’re being very selfish. Don’t you think you’ve had enough time for yourself?

Mom: You better get this out of your system fast. Do you know how lucky you are that Elliot wants you? He won’t wait forever.

Mom: Do not ignore me, young lady.

Mom: We’ve given you plenty of time. You need to fulfill your obligation to this family.

M y relationship with Elliot might as well have been arranged with how much they are pushing him on me. I know my father wants Elliot to work for him throughout his campaign, but I don’t need to be married to him for it. Although my father, Robert Riley, Governor candidate, and his right-hand man, Elliot Jones, his son-in-law, appears to be so much more prestigious in the eyes of an antiquated community.

The chokehold they’ve had on my life has only gotten stronger the closer he gets to the campaign, and even worse, the more I pull away.

Even the rotten tone of my mother’s texts and archaic thoughts of Weston, Missouri can’t shed the smile off of my face as I look around my new boss’s office.

We’ve gone through the full day of orientation, meeting the teams and going through the expectations she has in my new role at Ford Enterprises.

“I see you also applied for the New York office. Did you apply for the location or the position?” she asks, handing me a few folders of current projects I need to familiarize myself with along with my brand new iPad, already set up in a case ready for use.

“Both actually. The position sounded amazing, but the fact that it was in Manhattan was a plus. It’s a bucket list item for me… living in New York,” I say with a smile.

“Well, maybe one day, but for now, I’m glad we snagged you for our Seattle operation.”

“Me, too. I couldn’t be more excited. Today has been a dream,” is all I can muster to say to the amazing woman that saw something in my resume, in me, to give me the experience I am currently having.

I am the newest, and I think youngest, Marketing Manager for one of the most well-known companies in the US. The need to pinch myself is real.

Not only is the company amazing, but my new boss is one of the coolest women I’ve ever met. She’s smart, driven, and easygoing, yet I know she has expectations of me because her intent is clear. The moment she walked into the HR office, her presence alone was commanding. But one smile and introduction of herself and I felt instantly at ease. Like my mind and body felt comfortable, but I had no choice but to automatically respect her. She demands it by way of body language and a smile, and giving it to her is easy.

I strive for that kind of presence one day, so getting to learn from her is going to be literally life changing.

“Your credentials speak for themselves, Ember. I knew immediately when we met last week you were the perfect person for this role. Everything about you completely aligns with our image, what our company represents, and our goals.” The tears are looming, but I somehow manage to push them away. The fact she believes in me more than my parents ever have is a realization that I will probably need therapy for sooner than I’d like to admit.

It’s the end of the first day and I wish it didn’t have to end. Who wants that? I don’t want to leave. I want to work, plan, schedule.

Although, as much as I’m dying to find an excuse to stay in the office, I do need to get back to the hotel to get my luggage. Everything moved so fast that I just booked the closest hotel to work. It’s the nicest hotel in the entire downtown area, and I could only afford one night, so I checked out this morning and left my bags at the front desk.

I have to look for an apartment, but until then, I was able to find another hotel for much cheaper. After booking it, and paying the same amount for two weeks that I paid in one day at the hotel across the street, I found out—according to Google—it’s in the most dangerous neighborhood in Seattle.

Lovely .

It’s temporary. Which is the same thing I’ve been telling myself since I arrived yesterday. The first few weeks will be a lot, but it will get better.

Plus, it can’t be worse than staying with my parents in the smallest town in America, listening to them tell me how I’m wasting my time and energy climbing a corporate ladder when I should be changing my name to Mrs. Elliot Jones , to become the wife to the boy next door.

Literally.

“Okay, let’s call it a day and meet in the morning. I have a few people to introduce you to before our first client meeting.” We gather a few things from her office and make our way out through the expansive floor to ceiling glass doors.

“Sounds great and thanks again, Elena. I’ll see you—” My words are cut off, certainly by lack of oxygen to my brain, due to a certain broad-shouldered, dark-haired, brown-eyed, Johnny Bravo jaw-lined god, standing in the middle of the lobby.

My husband . Who is dressed in a goddamn suit and tie like he owns the goddamn building.

Oh, god. Does he own the building?

He’s mid sentence talking to another man. Shit . The Vegas groom.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Somehow my body channels Gumby at this exact moment. Everything in my hand falls to the floor, and I falter in my step, tripping over my own heel before my hand finds the leather surface of the lobby couch and I’m able to grow my bones back.

The moment everything hit the floor, both guys looked our way. Hudson’s arm juts out to his side, his palm and forearm landing on the groom’s arm while his other hand flies over his own chest, like he might be having a heart attack.

Hudson is just as shocked to see me.

“What the hell?” comes from someone. The groom, I think.

“What is he doing here?” My voice , a whisper to myself, or so I thought until Elena speaks up.

“You know him?” she asks.

Know him? Barely.

Married to him? Yup.

“Yes.” Another hardly audible whisper .

Gathering myself together, I pick up my binder and iPad off the floor. Fortunately, the case protected it from any damage, which I’m so thankful for, considering it’s only day one. Standing tall, I turn back to Hudson and silently beg, with every form of body language I have, that he doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, honey.” Elena sails past me into the arms of the groom as he plants a kiss to her lips.

You have got to be kidding me.

“Jake and Hudson. This is my new marketing manager, Ember Riley.”

“Ember Byrnes. Her last name is Byrnes,” Hudson says, barely letting Elena finish the introduction. “My wife.”

Elena’s eyes bounce back and forth between the two of us, then back at her husband.

“Oh.” Her lips purse and form a very large “O” as realization hits her.

Wait. His last name is Byrnes? I couldn’t have accidentally married into a worse last name for myself. Ember Byrnes.

“We’ll let you two… catch up,” Jake says, grabbing Elena’s hand as she looks at me with the same facial expression you give a dying dog, and I immediately know she knows everything.

Great. My new amazing boss knows I got drunk-married in Vegas last weekend.

Awesome.

The moment they step away, I shift my gaze to Hudson, who is still in only what can be described as shock.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper-yell at him.

“ME? What are you doing here?” he whisper-yells back.

How we’re both mad at each other, when this is clearly the most odd coincidence to happen in the history of coincidences, is beyond me.

“I just started this job today. I moved here yesterday. I can’t have anything ruin this.” He flinches, like I attempted to stab him.

Palming my face, I exhale into my hand. That was the wrong thing to say.

“I’m sorry. I’m just surprised to see you, and it’s been a wild couple of days.”

In the span of three days, I flew from Vegas, to Missouri, to Seattle. I somehow managed to pack up everything that means anything to me and my necessities, which sadly fit in two medium-sized pieces of luggage. I moved to an unknown city, where nobody knows me, or so I thought, completely alone and against the wishes of everyone in my entire family. And when I say against, I had to outright lie in order to leave the house with my luggage.

You would think they would be proud to have an ambitious daughter. The only future they see for me is a day of me wearing white, then immediately having more kids than I do fingers. So lying to them and telling them I met someone in Vegas that I was going to visit for a little while because I needed some time away from home, that was just easier. I would have never gotten out of the house if I were permanently moving or, god forbid, for a job.

But really, what is he doing here?

“I thought you lived in San Diego? Are you here with...” I glance over to where Elena and the groom disappeared to, because I don’t know his name.

“Jake. The groom.” He air quotes. “Sort of. I flew home first, then here. I live here now, too.”

My jaw loses all its elasticity.

Hudson just chuckles. “Don’t get too excited.”

I’ve had a couple of boyfriends; nothing that turned too serious, for me at least. Elliot proposing to me was more my parents pushing him to do it than either one of us, but he definitely wanted more than I did. Somehow, a few short minutes with Hudson makes me feel more excitement and butterflies than Elliot ever did. Which is dangerous for me.

But living near him, that is another level of danger I can’t even begin to decipher.

“Where are you staying?” he breaks the silence.

“Across the street. Well, I was. I’m heading there now to pick up my luggage and check into a different hotel for a couple weeks.”

I hardly finish speaking when he blurts out, “Stay with me.” His hands run through his thick, dark hair. It’s clean cut, yet the longer strands on the top are slightly disheveled, reflecting how I’m currently feeling. “I mean, I have a hotel tonight, but I’m moving into a condo near the water tomorrow. You should... you should stay with me. It’ll be easier than being at a hotel.”

My lips thin as I suck in my lower lip.

“I… um, I can’t.” Hudson opens his mouth to reply, but I interrupt. “I mean, I’ve already paid for it.” I shrug with a smile. “I should go.”

His brows furrow in disappointment as he gives me a heavy nod.

I walk toward the elevator, and I can sense him following behind me. The pack of Big Red I picked up at the airport falls out as I pull my phone out of my purse, landing on the floor in between us as we wait for the elevator. Embarrassment floods my checks because it’s a new, still in its original plastic, pack.

So what if I bought it because it smells like him?

He reaches down to pick it up, then hands it back to me, his shit-eating grin on full blast.

“Thanks.” I ignore his smug-as-hell face, placing it back in my purse, shoving it all the way to the bottom where it belongs. That treacherous, traitor pack of gum.

Pressing the down button, the doors immediately open to an empty elevator, and he holds his arm outward to allow me to walk in first .

A few flashbacks of the last time we were in an elevator come to the forefront of my mind. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. It’s amazing what the mix of alcohol and zero inhibitions will do for you. Without them now, the tension is thicker than wax.

As we step out of the elevator, I tap on the Uber app so I can order a ride as soon as I have my bags. It’s barely loaded on my screen before Hudson speaks up.

“I’m taking you to your hotel.” I look up to see him, fucking gorgeous by the way, staring back at me. His eyes are a deeper color brown than usual. The playfulness is replaced with what looks like frustration, maybe.

“You don’t have to do that.” My reply is quick.

He reaches out and gently tugs on my arm, halting my steps toward the rotating door that leads outside.

Stepping in front of me, his eyes rip straight through me. A slight squint in his chocolate eyes, that flood with a need. A need I can relate to because they’re laced with confusion, just like mine.

“Stop running.”

“I’m not.”

“Not physically.”

I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out because he’s right. I may be rooted here, but everything else is pushing him away.

I huff, then simply nod. Grabbing my hand, he leads me to the large, glass circular doors on a painfully slow automatic turnstile. Allowing me to step in first, he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer, as we use the same small triangular space and shuffle through the door.

His hard body feels like the softest comfort blanket, and a part of me feels relaxed for the first time since waking up next to him in that Vegas hotel.

The crisp air hits my cheeks as we walk through the courtyard of the building and across the street to the hotel. I love the smell here. The dampness and slight saltiness to the air fills my senses with another comfort I didn’t know I needed.

I quickly head into the hotel as Hudson goes to the parking lot to his car. I can’t say it doesn’t cross my mind to grab a quick Uber and take care of everything myself, but him calling me out on running, both mentally and physically, has me questioning myself.

As I roll my luggage to the sidewalk outside the hotel, I see Hudson in a truck that pulls up to the curb. He jumps out and grabs the luggage, placing it in the back, before opening my door for me. Holding my hand, he guides me to the open passenger door. I press my heel to the running board of his truck, pushing into it to hike my body up to the seat. He grants me that stupid contagious smile of his, then closes the door. I see him jogging quickly around the front of the truck, and I decide at this moment to just allow whatever this is to happen naturally between us.

Stop running.

He’s starting the truck when he turns to me. “Where’s your hotel?”

“It’s off of Pine Lake Way, I believe.” Reaching for my phone to get the address.

“Pine Lake?” he says with disgust. “No. You’re not staying in Pine Lake.”

My head whips his way, and his face matches his tone. “What?”

“No, no way in hell you are staying there,” he behests.

“It’s what I can afford right now. It’s already paid for,” I punch back.

“It’s dangerous.” His tone is softer but still demanding.

I just tilt my head at him, annoyed. So annoyed.

“Fine. You want to go to Pine Lake? Let’s go to Pine Lake.”

He puts the truck in drive and begins to drive without the use of GPS, and it makes me wonder how he knows the area so well.

Somehow, he reads my mind and answers my silent question. “Jake’s lived here a long time. I used to come visit him a lot, and I spent some time here when my brother went to school here.”

“Your favorite brother, Grant?” I ask with a smile.

He looks at me, blinking a few times. “Yeah, him,” he replies quietly.