Page 36 of Hudson
Creed was already dialing.
Chapter Six
As they rode back toward the motel, Hud’s stomach announced itself loud enough that Creed heard it from the passenger seat.
“Hungry?” Creed grinned.
“Aren’t you?”
“Starving, actually.” Creed stretched his arms overhead and settled back. “Once we get to the rooms, I’ll find something that delivers. Has to be more than pizza around here.”
“I could go for a burger. Won’t be anything like Connie’s, but a good greasy one sounds about right after a day like this.”
“That it does.” Creed glanced at his phone. “I want to call Abbie first, then we’ll sort it out.”
“Take your time. Tell her I said hello.”
The truck hummed along the road.
“You going to call Blair?” Creed asked, not looking up.
Hud glanced over, then back to the road. “No. Ball’s in her court.”
“Uh huh.” Creed’s tone said everything his words didn’t.
“I’m aware whose fault it is.”
“You pushed too hard, too fast, then walked off like she was the problem.” Creed shook his head. “Just call her. Tell her you were out of line.”
“She knows I was out of line. That’s why she’s not calling.” Hud’s jaw tightened. “I told her to reach out when she was ready. I’m standing by that.”
“That’s not principle, Hud. That’s pride.”
Hud didn’t answer.
Creed laughed softly and let it go, which was thething Hud both appreciated and found mildly irritating about him. Knew when to push, knew when to quit.
Hud stared at the road. He’d handled it wrong, he knew that. One date with a woman like Blair and he’d gotten ahead of himself, and when she’d made her feelings plain he hadn’t responded with much grace. Just told her to call when she was ready and walked away with his pride intact and nothing else to show for it.
He wanted to see her again. That part was simple. The rest he was still working out.
Back at the motel he hung his hat on the chair back and headed straight for the shower, cranking it hot. He stood under it until the road weariness began to loosen from his shoulders, then toweled off and pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt. He ran a hand through his damp hair and called it good enough.
He was at the desk pulling up Rawley’s files when Creed knocked twice and Hud let him in.
“Firehouse Bar and Grill delivers,” Creed said, dropping into the chair across from him. “Burgers, wings, the works. What do you want?”
“Double patty, cheddar, no onions. Fries.”
“Done.” Creed tapped at his phone, placed the order and set it on the table. He leaned back with the easy expression of a man who had already said his piece and was in no hurry to repeat it. “Abbie says hi, by the way.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Good.” A quieter smile, the kind that carried something underneath it. “She had her checkup today. Everything looks good.”
Hud nodded. He knew what that meant to Creed, even if neither of them would say it out loud. “That’sreal good news.”
“Yeah.” Creed cleared his throat. “Did you decide to call Blair tonight?”
