Variation: A Novel
Variation: Chapter 26

Sarahen45: No wonder she went into hiding. I wouldn’t show my face, either.

It was a special kind of hell to spend days tangled up in Allie, to finally see what we could be if we gave it a real shot, only to be shut out emotionally in every way possible once we got back to Haven Cove. She hadn’t returned a single call or text in two days.

I brought Juniper to the house in the pouring rain after I got off work as planned, only to replace Allie sweat drenched in the studio with Kenna.

“Good luck with that one,” Anne muttered, patting me on the shoulder, then returned to an enormous pile of paperwork spread out on the living room coffee table.

“Is this a bad time?” I asked from the studio doorway as Allie walked in a small circle, her hand on her lower back, wincing with every step.

“I’d say it’s the perfect time,” Kenna replied, pushing off the wall. “She needs to take a break.”

“Taking a break is what got me here,” Allie snapped.

Shit. My eyebrows rose.

“Your sister being a back-stabbing—” Kenna’s words died off as Juniper came in behind me. She glanced from my niece to me. “Try to talk her into resting.”

Somehow I doubted Allie was going to listen to me.

“Hey, Aunt Allie.” Juniper walked over to the window and dropped her bag in the same place she always did.

“Juniper . . .” Allie’s mouth opened and shut before she sighed, her shoulders dropping. “I need about five minutes and then we’ll get started.”

“You sure?” Juniper’s face scrunched for a second. “You seem . . . angry.”

“Oh, I’m furious,” Allie assured her, ripping a towel off the barre and putting it around the back of her neck. “Just not with you. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes and we’ll work.”

Juniper nodded, and Allie strode past me without looking my direction, heading into the foyer.

“Aunt Eva stole Aunt Allie’s part in the ballet that was created for her,” Juniper whispered as she sat next to her bag.

“I know that, but how do you know that?” I’d been careful not to say anything to her.

“Because Eva posted a Seconds yesterday with Aunt Allie saying she couldn’t do a bunch of choreography yet that looked . . .” She wrinkled her nose.

“Yes?” Shit, was I actually going to have to download that app to know what was going on around here?

“It looked like Eva hid the camera,” Juniper whispered. “And then she posted this morning that Allie wasn’t getting better, and she’d been hired as a principal for next season, so I looked at the website.” She kicked off her sandals and reached into her bag. “No one jumps from corps to principal. He had to have given it to her just because she’s Allie’s sister and he felt bad since the ballet was created for her.”

So that’s how Eva got the part. What a wretch.

“Right. Wait here, kiddo.” I left Juniper in the studio and headed into the living room. “You okay?” I asked Anne, who sat on the floor in front of the paper-strewn table, Sadie asleep beside her.

“Yep, just going through three decades of paperwork, hoping my mother kept anything pertaining to Juniper’s adoption.” She moved a manila envelope to a stack on the floor. “And don’t ask me why I’m not in the office. As I’ve told Allie a dozen times, it still feels like our father’s. Not like Mom used it, either, since half this crap was stuffed into boxes in her closet.”

“And you’re looking for the paperwork because . . .” I lifted my eyebrows at her.

“Because Juniper wants to know who her father is.” She dropped another folder on the stack with a thud. “And I have the Classic completely planned, so no current job to do, not that I got to do the job I went to school for, because after all, I was supposed to be using all my energy to get pregnant.”

And we have another Rousseau sister down. Shit.

“And I have one sister out there stealing the other one’s parts, changing the password to their joint Seconds account so Allie can’t take the video down, and won’t pick up the damned phone for me,” Anne continued. “And another who couldn’t get out of bed for two days, and now is back to putting herself into an early grave chasing something she never really wanted in the first place just because our mother told her to.” She held up a finger. “And don’t get me started on my mother guarding Lina’s secrets like she’s the only person who mattered.”

Allie couldn’t get out of—

“Wait.” My hands curled at my sides. “Your mother knew about Juniper?”

“We’re pretty sure, though it’s not like she’ll talk to us about it. I went to see her again yesterday and got nowhere.” Thunk. Another envelope hit the stack. “She’s busy”—she winced—“teaching. Can’t be bothered with me.”

“That’s . . . unfortunate.” A pit in my stomach opened, and I breathed through the immediate sensation of panic that belonged to a younger version of myself. I was going to have to set some shit straight with Mrs. Rousseau if I wanted a real chance with Allie.

“So instead of sitting around completely useless while Kenna rehabs Allie’s ankle, and Eva burns our family to the ground over her ego, I’m going to make someone happy, which means replaceing a copy of the adoption paperwork so I can tell Juniper who her biological father is.” Thunk. The files slid, cascading in a paperwork avalanche. “Shit!” Anne snapped, throwing a finger at me when I reached for the papers. “Don’t try to help me.”

Sadie perked up her ears, then decided sleep was more important.

“Heard.” I reached over to pet the pup, then continued through the living room into the kitchen, looking for Allie. Kenna sat on the counter, scrolling through her phone, taking bites off a carrot stick.

“Yeah, it’s a real shit show around here,” she noted without looking up.

“Seems like it.” I peered into the dining room, but there was no trace of Allie. “Allie couldn’t get out of bed?” Why the hell was I hearing that from other people?

“If a video trashing your reputation went viral with over a million hits, spawning countless stitches and commentary from every wannabe ballerina to contract lawyers, critics, and armchair experts who’ve never met you or even watched ballet before, would you feel like facing the world?”

Fuck. “No one told me.” Dinner curdled in my stomach. “She shut the door in my face after we got back from camping. Why didn’t she return any of my calls? Better yet, why didn’t either of you reach out? I would have been here.”

“Anne and I were with her.” Kenna peered up at me over her phone. “She declined further support, and we honored her wishes.”

“She didn’t want me here,” I said quietly. Not like I didn’t already know that from the declined calls and unread texts, but hearing it out loud felt like having my heart dragged out and scraped across broken glass.

“She’s a little prickly today, just to warn you.” Kenna sat her phone down on the counter. “Vasily tried to call her twice the day you two didn’t come home, and now he won’t take her calls.”

Shit. This was because of me. I leaned against the counter on the opposite side of the sink as the guilt sank in, knotting in my throat. No wonder she didn’t want to speak to me. If I’d just brought her home as planned, this might not have happened. So much for balance.

“It’s not his fault.” Allie walked in from the foyer in a clean set of workout gear, her face a perfect mask of control. Fuck me, she’d thrown her walls right back up. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated in my direction, but didn’t make eye contact as she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the lemonade.

Yeah, lemonade meant she was stressed as hell.

She slammed the pitcher on the island. “It’s not your fault that I didn’t stay in service. Not your fault that I decided to spend an extra day with you. Not your fault that I taught Eva the very choreography she no doubt went back and used against me.”

Those first two stung like a slap, but I held my ground when Allie walked my way. “I’m still sorry that I played any role in it.”

“It wasn’t you. It was all me. I’m a big girl who made choices and now has to deal with the repercussions of those choices.” She tilted her head to the side. “I need a glass.”

I moved four inches to the left so the door would clear my shoulder, and Allie arched an eyebrow, then yanked open the cabinet, her arm brushing against mine to reach the glass.

To my surprise, she brought back two glasses, then went back to the island to pour the lemonade.

Maybe she really wasn’t pissed at me. My throat loosened.

That relief lasted all of thirty seconds, after which she gave the second glass to Kenna, who took it with a mouthed thank-you as she swiped to answer her phone. “Why, Isaac Burdan, were your ears burning?” She tapped a button on the screen and set the phone on the counter.

The choreographer.

“Good to hear your voice as well, Dr. Lowell,” Isaac said through the speaker, and Allie tensed. “I’m sorry to bother you, but it seems Alessandra won’t take my calls.”

At least I wasn’t the only one.

“Hmm.” Kenna took a sip of the lemonade. “I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that you handed over the ballet you choreographed for her to Eva? Just a hunch.”

Allie folded her arms.

“I had nothing to do with it, I swear. You have to tell her.” His voice pitched high. “Vasily showed me some footage of Alessandra teaching Eva, noted that she wasn’t going to be back in time to perform, and told me he’d made the decision to cast Eva in the role. I think his exact words were ‘raise up the newest MBC star.’”

“This is bullshit,” Allie snapped.

“Alessandra? Oh, darling. I’m so very sorry this has happened. You know I created that role for you and you alone. It’s the product of our work, our passion—”

Passion? Jealousy burned in my gut, but I managed not to tell the fucker to keep his pet names to himself because she wasn’t his anymore. Not that she was exactly mine, either, since we hadn’t really hashed out what was happening between us.

“Cut the crap, Isaac. You were already teaching the choreography to Charlotte, no doubt hoping to rework a little with her passion.” Allie shook her head and pivoted on the other side of Kenna, facing my direction. Icy rage shone in her eyes as she glared at the phone.

“Anger sounds . . . rather delicious on you, darling. You really should let that temper flare a little more often.” He sighed loud enough to be heard through the phone when Allie didn’t respond. “I was fucking Charlotte, no big deal. Working with her was only a by-product of that.”

“And are you still?” Allie questioned.

“Fucking Charlotte? Yes, but I’ll stop if you’re saying you’d like to resume our—”

I saw red.

“Working with her, Isaac. Are you working with her?” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I don’t care who you sleep with anymore, nor will I ever care again.”

He scoffed. “It’s that guy you brought to the gala, isn’t it?”

I stiffened, and Allie’s gaze shot to mine.

“Have to say I’m slightly surprised,” Isaac continued. “He’s not really your type. So handsy in public when you prefer discretion. Plus you like your men lean, built for endurance instead of heavy lifting, if you will. I’ll be here when you get bored.”

Allie’s face flushed and Kenna’s eyebrows rose.

Had he been here, he would have learned the definition of fuck around and replace out.

“Isaac, I wish you the best of luck with Eva. We both know she’ll slaughter that variation; you’ll have to take everything down a notch in difficulty for her to have a prayer of making it halfway through.” Allie’s hand hovered over the screen. “Oh, and as for Hudson, he’s built like a Greek god and fucks like one, too, so I’m all taken care of.” She tapped the phone and the call ended.

I gripped the edge of the counter to keep from reaching for her, even damn well knowing she’d said it just to piss off Isaac.

Kenna’s gaze swung between Allie and me. “And on that note, I’ll be in the studio.” She hopped off the counter and threw me a wave. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

I nodded in thanks, and Allie made her way back to my end of the island, then put the lemonade back in the refrigerator. “I shouldn’t have said that to him.”

“Didn’t bother me.” A corner of my mouth lifted, but I wiped the smirk off my face before she turned to face me. “Bothers me that you aren’t returning my calls either.”

She flinched. “Did you need to talk about Juniper?”

“No.” I folded my arms. “And you know it.”

“Then there’s really no reason to call.” She shrugged. “What happened out there was just two consensual adults working off some pent-up tension. That’s it.”

“And I thought we weren’t going to lie to each other.” Her words bounced right off me because I knew exactly what she was doing. I just wasn’t going to let her.

“It meant nothing.” Her apathetic mask was so well constructed I’d almost believe her if it wasn’t for the turmoil in her eyes.

“Lie.” I took two steps, putting us toe to toe. Her pupils dilated and her breath quickened. “Back row, center seat for eleven years isn’t nothing.”

She tilted her chin. “It has to be. You and me . . . we don’t fit in each other’s worlds, Hudson. Not outside this tiny little town neither you nor I actually belong in. Do you see what happened when I took a few days off? I lost the role of my life. I should have been here working. That’s what happens when I try to balance my career with anything else, anyone else who isn’t in the industry. We”—she gestured between us—“can’t be a thing, and I don’t have time to argue about it with you.”

My stomach clenched. And back to square one. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out to check the screen. It was the station. “Hold that very wrong thought,” I said to Allie, then answered the call. “Ellis.”

“Hey, Chief—”

“Not yet.” I cut off that shit quick. I wasn’t going to pin for at least a few months. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to call you, Petty Officer First Class Ellis, I know you just clocked out, but we’ve got two birds out already and a distress call coming in.”

Fuck. This day just kept getting better.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I hung up and shoved the phone back into the pocket of my uniform. “Looks like I don’t have time to argue with you about it either. Can you take Juniper home when you’re done for the day?”

“Why?” Her brow knit with concern, which only served to frustrate the shit out of me after she’d spewed all that shit about us meaning nothing.

“Because a distress call just came in and I have to go. Can you take her home, or not?”

She blinked, then leaned sideways to glance past me at the window. “You can’t go out in this. We’re in the middle of a storm.”

“Yes, love, and this is what happens during every storm.” And time was ticking.

Her eyes widened. “You’re going . . .”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Can you get Juniper home? If not, I’ll call Gavin on my way in and ask him to swing by. Allie, I have to go, now.”

“I’ll take her home,” she said softly, chunks of her armor falling away. “Hudson—”

“Thank you. Please tell her I had to run, but don’t be specific. She worries.” I ignored the urge to kiss her and walked away. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Naturally it’s up to you if you want to answer.”

A little before midnight, I pulled my truck into my garage, then cursed my past self for renting a place where I had to walk through the rain to get in my front door.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been soaked to the bone tonight.

Exhausted, aching, and still more than a little frustrated with the sharp-tongued ballerina I was irrevocably in love with, I walked across the little patch of grass that separated my house from the garage and headed up the steps to the front porch, only raising my head once I was clear of the rain. The sight of Allie stopped me dead in my tracks. She sat barefoot on my porch swing, her arms wrapped around her legging-covered knees, her ballet flats lying discarded next to a giant familiar bowl of water beneath her.

“You’re all right?” She lifted her chin from her knees and studied me from head to toe, worry creasing her forehead.

Fuck, if that look didn’t drain some of the frustration right out of me. “How long have you been out here?”

“A little over an hour, maybe. I worried for a while I had the wrong house.”

“Right house.” I crossed the porch and picked up the bowl of water, wincing slightly at the pain in my ribs, then emptied the contents over the railing. Anne’s Mercedes was parked on the opposite side of the street.

“I was icing my feet,” Allie muttered.

“I’ve been around you long enough to recognize the foot-icing bowl. And it takes a hell of a lot longer than an hour to melt that much ice.” I put the bowl on the swing next to her, and she unfolded her legs. I was too tired to fight with her, but I didn’t want her to go either.

She tugged the edges of her cardigan closer. “Fine, it was a couple of hours.”

My shoulders dropped. She had to be frozen. “Come inside and get warm.” I unlocked the front door, then held it open as she picked up her shoes and walked in.

She looked left, into the living room, and right, toward my office, then glanced up the steep stairs to the second floor. “I like the original woodwork.”

“I’d say thanks, but I’m just renting it.” I shut the door, and to my surprise, she set her shoes down on the hardwood and walked straight into my office.

“Because you don’t plan to stay,” she said over her shoulder, flipping on the light switch.

My stomach clenched as I took off my hat and hung it on the coatrack, my jacket quickly following, and I battled the illogical feeling that I was about to be tested. Good thing I kept the place picked up.

“I was only supposed to be here long enough to help Caroline get on her feet. It’s taking a little longer than I planned.” I followed her in, watching her expression shift to curiosity as she tucked her hair behind her ears and looked over the bookcases, stopping to examine the titles, pausing when she came across a framed photo.

“Savannah,” I explained when she looked closer at one of Juniper and me on the beach when she was five. “It was my second duty station. I was there when Sean died, then begged everyone I knew for a compassionate reassignment.”

“Did you like it there?” She moved along, her gaze skimming across a handful of awards I’d wedged between books in their padded folders.

“Yeah. I liked living somewhere else, seeing new places, meeting new people—that kind of thing.” I would have killed to know what she was thinking. Her being here was an admission that she had real feelings for me, but that didn’t mean she’d let herself give in to them, not when she felt I’d jeopardized her career.

Which, in her defense . . . I unknowingly had.

“And these?” She tugged a few of the awards free.

“They’re handed out when you save people, but they’re just pieces of paper.” I shrugged.

“Bravery and valor,” she read off one, then closed the folder and put it back with the others. “Sounds like you.” Her gaze shifted to the framed map of Alaska above my desk. “You never asked for Sitka?”

“Twice,” I answered, fatigue settling into my bones. “But I wasn’t highly ranked, and my wants didn’t match the needs of the Coast Guard.”

“And now that you have the opportunity to ask again, you’re going to request to stay here.” She picked up a framed piece of Juniper’s artwork off my desk. “For her.”

“For the same reason you wouldn’t get in the boat before Eva.” We may have been polar opposites, but we were eerily similar in one respect: our family came first, which was exactly why this thing between us had about a zero percent chance of lasting past August.

“I’m second-guessing that choice lately.” She pivoted and walked between my desk and the worn leather armchair, passing right by me and walking into the living room. “Do you ever second-guess coming back?”

“No.” I followed, my right side throbbing as her gaze swept over the space, no doubt cataloging everything, from the art I’d picked up during a drunken trip to Miami with Beachman to the potted plant I’d somehow managed to keep alive in the corner.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” She ran her fingers over the soft throw blanket draped over the armchair and cracked a yawn.

“Every day.” But I wanted her with me, spending weekends curled beside me on the sofa, her laughter filling these rooms. I wanted to bicker about everything and nothing, and then make up and decide what we’d make for dinner. I wanted the mundane interactions of a relationship. An ache of longing sliced between my ribs and cut straight into my heart. Even if I convinced her that we could make this work long term, eventually our past would have to be dealt with. She’d never forgive me for what I’d done. It was only a matter of time before it tore us apart.

“Maybe you should go.” She turned her attention to the photographs on the gallery wall, and yawned again.

I raked my hands through my hair. “Allie, I love that you’re finally here, but I’m exhausted from fighting thirty-foot seas and a really panicked family who thought I was a ladder they needed to climb, and my ribs are killing me—”

“What happened to your ribs?” Her face whipped toward mine and her eyes flared.

“Nothing a couple nights of good sleep isn’t going to take care of.”

“Let me see.” She strode over and tugged my top up, then yanked my T-shirt free, and I lifted my arm because I didn’t have the energy to argue with her . . . and I loved her hands.

She inhaled sharply. “Hudson.”

“It’s fine. Just a bad bruise.” I’d had way worse. “People do irrational things when they’re scared.”

Her hand hovered over the foot-size contusion, but she didn’t touch it. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She dropped my clothes back into place. “I owe you an apology. There are very few people in my life I trust with . . . me, but I’ve never guarded myself against my sisters. And when Eva crawled over my corpse to get ahead, I took my anger out on you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” She dragged her gaze back to mine.

“Apology accepted.”

Her eyebrows rose. “That easy?”

“That easy.” I nodded. “And I’m sorry I kept you out of the studio.”

“That wasn’t your fault. I wanted to stay with you.” She huffed a frustrated sigh. “I always want to stay with you. That’s the problem.”

“Then let’s go to bed.” I held my hand out.

She drew back slightly. “I didn’t come over for sex, Hudson.”

“I figured.” A smile tugged at my lips. “I’m tired. You’re tired. And unless you feel like going out in that storm again, you may as well come to bed so we can both get some sleep.” I lifted my brows when she furrowed hers. “You want to stay with me? Then stay.”

“Just for the night?” she clarified.

“For as long as you want. I told you I’d take you any way I could get you, even one night at a time.” I crooked my fingers, well aware that I was treading on exceptionally thin ice with an exceptionally skittish woman.

“That sounds good.” She nodded slowly.

Thank fuck. I turned the lights out, checked the doors and windows, then took her up the creaking stairs, past the guest room where Juniper slept occasionally, and into my bedroom.

She took in the space, with its dark furniture and hunter green accents. “Sometimes I forget how neat you are. Nothing’s out of place.”

“More efficient that way. Come on.” I took her into the bathroom, then pulled out a new toothbrush from the cabinet.

“You keep toothbrushes for your overnight guests?” She glared at the bristles.

“I keep toothbrushes stocked the same way I keep everything else.” I opened the cabinet and showed her the organized rows of supplies before shutting it. “There’s no one else. You know that. Stop looking for a reason to bolt.”

She sighed, and we did the domestic things that couples take for granted, like sharing a sink and scooting past each other in the doorway.

Then I completely forgot how tired I was when she walked out of the bathroom in my T-shirt. My body temp rose by at least a full degree. Yeah, I definitely had a thing for seeing her in my clothes.

She slid under the covers, then lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t suppose you have a phone charger?”

I carefully shifted to appease my pissed-off ribs, opened my nightstand drawer, and pulled out my spare, then handed it over.

“Thank you.” She plugged it in and set her phone on the nightstand, then went back to staring at the ceiling. “You really missed your calling as a Boy Scout.”

“Always prepared.”

She drummed her fingers on top of the comforter.

“For fuck’s sake, Allie, come here.” I rolled toward her on my unbruised side, wrapped my arm over her ribs, then tugged her across the bed.

She promptly snuggled back against me, stole half my pillow, and pushed her incredible ass right against my dick as she got comfortable.

“What do you want to do about Eva?” I asked, resting my hand on her bare hip.

“Besides throttle her?” She sighed. “Once it’s announced, it takes an act of God to change Vasily’s mind. I’m not sure there’s anything to do besides never speak to her again, which also is just . . . unconscionable.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I could cut Gavin or Caroline off either.” I stroked her skin absentmindedly. “You could leave the Company.”

“You could leave the Coast Guard,” she retorted.

“Point taken.” I fought a smile. “But I move duty stations and still do the same thing. You can dance anywhere in the world. Are you still under contract?”

“For another month,” she answered. “August fifteenth.”

“Day of the Classic.” It was coming up quickly.

She nodded. “I sat in the dark for two days, trying to decide if I should change my name and move to another country, or metaphorically beat the shit out of my sister.”

“And what did you decide?”

“I want my role back.” She shifted.

“Then be an act of God.” I groaned. “And stop wiggling your ass or all my honorable intentions will disappear.”

“As I recall, you did some very dishonorable things to me a few days ago.”

“That’s not helping.” I kissed the top of her head, burying my nose in her hair and breathing in the unique floral scent that had haunted me for over a decade. “Go to sleep.”

“You should put Sitka at the top of your list.”

“One, Caroline isn’t ready for me to go. Two, it puts me on the other side of the whole fucking country from the only person I’d like to be close to, who—in case you missed it—is you. And three, go to sleep.” I draped my arm over her waist.

She tensed for a second, then burrowed closer, which I didn’t mind in the least. “I didn’t mean it. When I said we meant nothing, I didn’t mean it. All I could think for those hours was that you were out in that storm and I’d . . .”

“I know. I knew it when you said it.” I kissed the spot behind her ear. “And I have a hundred-percent return rate when it comes to storms.”

She turned in my arms and looked at me. “I don’t like it when people get too close,” she whispered.

“Also something I know.” I stroked her hip. “In fact, I’ve known that for about eleven years. And while it’s probably one of your most frustrating qualities, I have to admit you keep it interesting. And in your defense, you warned me from the get-go.” Guess we weren’t sleeping, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, not when I finally had her in my bed. “But you could do us both a favor and stop fighting it.”

Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, and she struggled for a few seconds. “Would you really take me any way you can get me?”

I was instantly, fully awake. “Yes.”

“What if there’s a way for this to be real but . . . safe.” She tucked her hands against my chest.

Holy shit. Was this actually happening?

“It’s already real. What do you need to feel safe?” I grazed my hand up her back.

She swallowed hard. “It has to be easy. Simple. No one gets hurt.”

“Okay.” I was already going to hurt, but as long as she escaped unscathed, I’d give her whatever she wanted. “No mess,” I guessed.

She nodded. “Everything in my life is in upheaval, and I need you not to be.” She brought her hands up beneath her chin. “And I know that’s not fair—”

“Any way I can get you,” I reminded her, and guilt started gnawing on the edges of my stomach. There was so much history between us.

“Even if it’s only until I go back to New York?” She tensed.

Fuck. “You only want this to last for five weeks?” But hadn’t that always been my plan? To use the summer to bring some life back into her eyes? Then why did it feel like having a section of my heart carved out?

“I can only have this for five weeks,” she clarified. “I have to be fully focused once I go back. I’ll be fighting for my place in the Company, and—”

Make it easy for her.

“I get it.” I brushed her hair back from her face, and the guilt bit harder. This was a taste of everything I’d ever wanted, and talking about the past would risk everything, but I had to. I couldn’t tell her this was real and not be real. “We should talk about the way I left you, and if you don’t forgive me—”

“Don’t.” She shook her head quickly and cupped the side of my face. “I forgave you the second you told me you were at the performance. We were kids and we’ve both made mistakes, Hudson.”

“Not like me.” I gripped her hip, and she pressed her fingers to my mouth. I ceased breathing. She couldn’t forgive me, not that painlessly.

“Simple and easy, remember?” she whispered. “It’s all I can handle right now. Let’s just agree that now is all that matters. The past is over, and we can’t have a future. I won’t give up New York, and you won’t leave your family if you can help it, and if you can’t, God knows where you’ll be assigned.” She tried to smile and failed. “So, unless you can think of something that prevents you from being mine for the next five weeks, please don’t make me ask again. This is the only chance we’ll get, and I want it.” Her fingers slipped to my chin. “As long as you do.”

The panic filling her eyes stole my words and my best intentions. She’d never been more vulnerable with me, even when we were teenagers. If I misstepped now, she’d turn those walls into a fortress.

“Hudson?” She drew back.

“Five weeks isn’t long enough.” My voice roughened. If this was longer than five weeks, if we were going the distance, I would have begged her to listen to me grovel. But digging up our past would bring a storm she couldn’t weather, not now, not when she was about to wage war to get her role back. But after, when this was all over, she needed to hear me out. “But I’ll take it.”

She beamed, then leaned in and brushed a kiss over my lips. “Good. Now we can sleep.” She turned in my arms and snuggled back against me.

I had five weeks to make her the happiest I could, and I wasn’t going to fuck it up. Whatever she needed, I’d give her.

Our breathing evened out, and I was almost asleep when I heard her say, “Your dreams matter, too, Hudson.”

The only dream I cared about was the one I was currently living, where I got to fall asleep next to her. It was the dream I blinked out of at five a.m. as Allie’s phone rang.

She rolled out of my arms, slapped the top of the nightstand a few times, then finally answered the damn thing. “You’d better be dead, Anne. Yes, I’m at Hudson’s. Because I’m a grown woman who can sleep wherever and with whomever she chooses.”

“As long as it’s me.” I pulled her back against me. I wasn’t due in until 0900 after last night’s mission, which meant I had enough time to watch Allie come a couple of times and catch a couple more hours of shut-eye. Perfect morning.

“What do you mean, you haven’t slept?” Allie tensed. “You what? You’re kidding. No, that doesn’t make sense. No way it’s him.” She sat up and my arm fell away. “No, I’ll call him in a few hours. Because not everyone is up at five!” Her spine stiffened. “No, you did not. You didn’t tell him why? Fine. I’ll be home by nine.” She hung up the phone and slid it back onto the nightstand.

“Feel like sharing?” I cracked an eye open.

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Anne found Juniper’s original birth certificate.”