Hudson swirled his wine in his glass and watched me. “Now you’re quiet.”

I chuckled. “I don’t know what else to talk about.”

He ran his hand across his face and I knew he was thinking the same thoughts I’d been thinking—about how we couldn’t even have a simple meal without Celia there. He opened his mouth to say something, and for a moment, I thought he was going to go ahead and let her win.

But then his face changed and he became resolved. “Well, let’s see. I know how today went. What’s on your agenda for tomorrow? You’re interviewing Gwenyth, right?”

“Her name’s Gwenyth? Hmm.” That was the first time I’d heard her full name. And it bothered me. Hudson was not one to use nicknames.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” I was probably making a mountain out of a molehill. But I couldn’t help myself from pursuing it. “I’ve heard you call her Gwen.”

He shrugged. “That’s what she goes by.”

“You never call people by their nicknames.” My irritation was showing.

And so was his. “Are you suggesting it means something that I use hers?”

“No.” Why did this bother me so much? “I don’t know.” It was Celia. The mood had been set and now, even as we tried to move past it, we struggled.

It was my turn to sigh. “I’m just tense. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” Hudson took another swallow of his wine. “I don’t know why I call her Gwen. I knew her as that first. I suppose it’s in my brain now.”

“You don’t need to explain.” But I was glad he had.

I took a sip from my own glass, trying to focus on something that wasn’t going to piss either of us off. He’d asked about my agenda for the next day...fuck. I remembered something we needed to talk about. But it was definitely not going to be a pleasant conversation. Might as well get it over with.

“About tomorrow…” I began tentatively. “I do have plans I should tell you about.”

“You better not be planning a run in Central Park. Your new bodyguard will tackle you down.” His tone was light, but his eyes said he was serious.

“I said I wouldn’t run outside. Trust me works both ways, you know. Do I get to meet this bodyguard? Is he also very attractive but unavailable because he’s gay?”

Hudson smirked. “That’s not even a little funny.”

I knocked his knee playfully under the table. “It totally is and you know it.”

“I’ll introduce you on his shift tomorrow. He’s not gay. And I trust you so I’m not worried about whether or not he’s attractive.”

“Good boy.”

“Now what do you need to tell me?” He took a bite of his risotto and pinned his attention on me.

I paused, hating to destroy the lighter mood. “I’m, um, having lunch with Mira tomorrow. And Jack.”

Hudson froze, his fork mid-air. “What did you say?”

The look on his face said he’d heard me fine. But I played along, trying to sound more confident the second time around. “I’m having lunch with your sister and father.”

“Like hell you are.” His eyes blazed with fury.

His reaction wasn’t a surprise, but I fought not to get immediately defensive. “I’m guessing it’s the Jack part that has you upset and not the Mira part.”

His jaw twitched. “I’m not upset about any of it because you are not having lunch with my father.”

With as much lightheartedness as I could muster, I said, “I’m not sure you can tell me what I am and am not doing.”

“Oh, yes, I can.”

I groaned, running my hands through my hair. “Hudson, this is ridiculous. I’ve told you before, I’m not Celia. I’m not going to sleep with your father—even if he comes on to me. Which he won’t because your baby sister will be there.”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it on his plate. “Why do you even need to spend time with him?”

“I don’t need to. I didn’t plan to. Mira didn’t want to be alone with him, and so I offered to be a buffer.”

“She doesn’t need a buffer. Cancel your date and have coffee with her later. Just Mira.”

I considered for about half a second. Then I abandoned that and started to get angry. “I don’t want to cancel. I want to have lunch with Mira. And Jack. I like him. Not because I’m into him, but because he’s your father. And I don’t have a father anymore and bonding with Jack makes me feel good.” My voice cracked, but I kept on. “Maybe he’s not a great replacement, but he’s the closest thing I have. Plus, knowing him helps me feel closer to you. And when you keep things from me, H, I need all the access to you I can get.”

“Alayna…”

Immediately I felt bad. “That last part was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

Hudson pushed his chair away from the table. Then he reached over and pulled me into his lap.

This was better. The tension that had hung thickly in the air began to dissipate.

He ran his hand up and down my arm. “I’m not keeping things from you, Alayna. Really, I’m not. I just want a night without…her.”

“I know,” I said, burrowing deeper into his chest.

“And please, don’t use my father to get close to me. He’s not the road to my heart.”

“Where is the road to your heart?”

With one finger, he lifted my chin to meet his eyes. “Don’t you know? You’re the one who paved it.”

I bit back tears, not wanting to spoil the moment with crying. “Don’t think I’m going to cancel my lunch because you’re being sweet.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. I don’t think that at all. Have lunch with him if that’s what you want. At least I know you’ll be safe from Celia with him around. They aren’t friendly anymore. And I wouldn’t deny you something that makes you feel good.”

Desperate to hold on to his lighter mood, I chose to respond playfully. “It’s not your right to deny me anyway.”

He pretended to sigh. “I hate that.”

A rush of emotion swept through me. God, this man…he stopped his whole world to look out for me, to take care of me, and now he’d accepted my decision to meet with his father—a decision that had to be tearing him apart inside. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was pretty darn near.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on to him tight. “I love you.”

“And that’s why I’m letting you win this conversation.”

I pulled back to meet his eyes, my brow raised. “Letting me?”

“Please, indulge me a little.”

“How about this—” I shifted so I was straddling him. “How about we cease conversation altogether and indulge in an activity where we can both win?”

“Can we both win twice?”

“Honey, we can win three times if you’re up for it.”

The growing bulge beneath me told me what he thought about that before he even spoke. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

* * *

Mira tapped her pursed lips with a French-manicured finger. “I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you what he’s planning. It makes no sense.”

When I joined Mira for lunch the next day, I hadn’t meant to tell her about Celia’s stalking, but the words poured out the moment I’d seen her. If Jack had been there, I knew I wouldn’t have shared as much, but his tardiness had me spilling everything, including Hudson’s deflection when I’d asked him his ideas for dealing with the bitch. He’d had a valid reason for not giving me more information, but it continued to nag at me.

Perhaps I was being unfair. “Maybe he really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He just seemed more elusive than that.” I opened a packet of pink stuff and stirred it into my iced tea.

Mira frowned. “You’re afraid he’s keeping something from you on purpose?”

“No.” Though, I wasn’t quite sure. “I don’t know.”

She shook her head, her hair bobbing against her shoulders with the movement. “I don’t know either. I’m sorry.”

Her apology took me by surprise. “Why are you sorry? You have no reason to be sorry.”

“He’s my brother.” When she realized that didn’t exactly explain anything, she went on. “I feel like I should understand him better, and I don’t.”

“No one does.” Would anyone, ever? Sometimes I thought maybe I would, but really, could I?

“Are you ladies ready to order?” The waiter’s question drew my eyes back to the menu I’d tossed aside. I still hadn’t decided on a meal, having been too preoccupied with chatting.

The waiter saw my hesitancy. “Or would you prefer to wait for your other guest?”

Mira glanced at me. She already knew what she wanted to order. “We’ll wait.”

“Very good.” The waiter left us to attend to his other tables.

I picked up my menu and scanned the lunch items. But my mind was still on the conversation at hand. I lowered the menu and leaned toward Mira. “Here’s the thing—I’m afraid the real reason he won’t tell me what he has planned is that he doesn’t have anything planned.”

“Wouldn’t he just admit that?”

“No.” There was no way Hudson would let me believe he didn’t have complete control over the situation. “He wants me to feel safe.”

Mira beamed. “Of course he does.” There was never any doubt that the girl had faith in her brother. “Laynie, he’ll come up with something. I know it. And whatever it is, he’ll do a good job. He’ll be committed and he’ll go to great lengths. This is probably a horrible comparison, but look how devoted he was to keeping Celia’s secret. All to protect her.”

“He wasn’t protecting Celia.” Jack sat down in the chair between me and Mira. “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic. I didn’t realize you were joining us, Laynie. What a nice surprise!”

Mira spoke before I could give my own greeting. “Are you suggesting Hudson was protecting you? Because that makes me sick.” She roughly handed him her menu.

“Oh, I know what I want,” he said, setting the menu to the side without acknowledging Mira’s hostility. “He was protecting your mother. He didn’t want her to get hurt from my infidelity.”

Mira looked to me. “Still a valid comparison—Hudson will do far more for you than he’d do for Mom.” Again, before I had a chance to speak, she turned back to her father. “And you say that as if it were unreasonable that she would be hurt.”

“It’s unreasonable that he cares.” Jack circled his shoulders, probably trying to release the building tension.

Mira’s jaw tightened—the same way her brother’s tightened when he was upset. “Thank god he didn’t inherit heartlessness from you.”

“No, he inherited that from Sophia.”

Her eyes widened. Leaning forward, she whispered harshly, “Would you just stop?”

My eyes danced from one to the other as they volleyed their attacks. So much for me being a buffer at the meal. Hudson was right—Mira definitely didn’t need one.

Jack set his palms on the table and turned to face his daughter. “Mirabelle, I’m not heartless. You think it’s cruel that I cheated on your mother. It was. It is. I’m not perfect.”

Mira’s eyes filled and I suddenly recognized her anger as pain.

“But you have to understand, sweetie, that Sophia is also culpable. She’s not an easy woman to love.”

Mira dabbed at a stray tear that had spilled over. “And do you love her, Daddy?”

Jack reached over to take Mira’s hand in his. “Yes. I do. Of course, I do.”

“Do you tell her?”

“Every day.”

Mira smiled. But it was brief. She pulled her hand away from his. “Actions speak louder than words, you know.”

I’d been silent, letting the father and daughter say the things they needed to say, while I sat feeling like a voyeur. But I couldn’t let her last comment go by without reacting. “Sometimes.”

Jack and Mira looked at me as if they’d just remembered I was there.

Or maybe they wanted clarification. I wasn’t about to turn the meal into a Hudson-hasn’t-said-he-loves-me conversation, so I simply said, “Sometimes it would be nice to have both.”

The waiter’s return saved me from saying more. Since everyone else knew what they wanted, I went last, settling on a Chef Salad.

“And can I get a Manhattan?” Jack asked before the waiter left.

“For lunch, Dad? Seriously?”

“Hey, I’m not the one with the drinking problem.”

I braced myself for Mira’s reaction. Generally, no one spoke about Sophia’s alcoholism. I wasn’t even sure if Mira acknowledged it or if she was in denial.

Her dark eyes didn’t even flinch. “But you certainly facilitate it.” Apparently, she wasn’t in denial. “Can’t you just have tea? Or water?”

“Oh for the love of Pete. Your mother isn’t even here.” Jack’s eye twitched—another of Hudson’s traits when he was upset. “Is it too tempting for you, my dear? Because it doesn’t look like you’ve touched your water. I’m sure you’d rather have something stronger.”