Until You Loved Me (Silver Springs #3)(102)
“Is that what you’re most proud of?”
“I’m a guy. What can I say?” He lifted her hand and rubbed her knuckles against his cheek. “So you got the DNA to the lab?”
“I did.”
“And we’ll find out day after tomorrow?”
“The guy who waited for me wouldn’t commit, but he said it was possible.”
All his levity vanished as he rested his head in her lap. “I spoke to Jones before the meeting today.”
“I know. Bruiser told me.”
“Did he tell you that Matisson threatened to go to the press if I didn’t fork over the money immediately—without any proof?”
“He did. That’s a concern on the one hand. But on the other...I see it as hopeful.”
He lifted his head. “In what way?”
“If he’s pushing that hard, maybe he can’t offer proof. And if he can’t offer proof, maybe it’s because he isn’t telling the truth.”
“Don’t I wish...”
“Even if he sells the story to a magazine, they’re going to need substantiating documents, so he’ll have to support his claims.”
Taking the remote from the coffee table, he turned off the TV, then got up and sat next to her on the couch. “Tell me something.”
“What’s that?”
“You don’t like the attention I attract—you’d rather I wasn’t famous. You’ve made that clear in the past.”
“It’s true, but—” she grinned “—no one’s perfect.”
When he didn’t smile, she put her hand on his arm. “Don’t overthink it. You are who and what you are, and I’m willing to accept that.”
He raked one hand through his hair. “But if you don’t like the positive attention I receive, how will you cope with the negative attention?”
She took the remote away, set it aside and pressed him back so that he was lounging on the couch. “I’ll deal with it the same way you will. We’ll pull through by focusing on better things.”
“Like...”
He watched as she popped open the top button of his jeans and pulled down the zipper. “This.”
*
Hudson wasn’t in bed when Ellie woke the next morning. She pulled on a robe and went down to see if he was in the kitchen but didn’t find him until she reached the gym. She stood at the door, watching him lift weights for a while. She could see the concentration on his face and the strain he was putting on his body and knew he was doing what he could to stay busy.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
He glanced over once he realized she was there. “If you’re asking whether Matisson’s come forward—” he pushed himself to do another rep “—I don’t think so.” The barbell clanged as he dropped it the last few inches to the floor. “Not yet. I can’t find anything new about him on the internet. So...we’ll see what happens today.”
“Is that why you’re down here so early? You couldn’t sleep?”
He walked over and, despite her attempt to fend him off, pulled her into his arms.
“What the heck?” she complained. “You’re sweaty!”
“Exactly. My plan is to get you sweaty, too. Then you’ll want to shower with me.”
He looked as if he was about to return to weight lifting before their shower, so she made sure that didn’t happen. Opening her robe, she brought his hand to her breast and tugged him in for a deeper kiss. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Nowhere,” he replied as his hand slid lower. “I’m glad you’re awake.”
“Last night wasn’t enough?” she teased.
“I could never get enough of you.”
She felt the same about him, which was why the whole precarious situation with Matisson scared her so badly. She tried not to think of how rough the rest of the week could get—easy when Hudson urged her into the closest bedroom and onto the bed. But after they were both satisfied, reality intruded yet again. Shelly Gomez, the private detective she’d hired, sent her a text with pictures and a short video, which Ellie received the moment they stepped out of the shower.
“What is it?” Hudson had noticed she wasn’t dressing. He’d put on his boxers and jeans but wasn’t wearing a shirt when he walked over.
She lifted up her phone so he could see for himself. “Julia Matisson, who now goes by Julia Bowers, looks pretty darn healthy to me.”
He slowly swiped through the pictures. “This woman is Julia?”
“According to Shelly Gomez, it’s her and her two sons.”
“How’d Gomez get these photos—and so fast?”
“She lives in Phoenix, not far away. That’s partly why I chose her. I told her I’d pay twice her usual fee if she’d find Julia immediately and get me some concrete information.”
“Apparently she took you seriously.”
“She must’ve jumped on the case as soon as I contacted her.”
“She has the two boys,” he said. “That wasn’t a lie. But Julia Bowers is severely overweight. And she has all her hair.”
Those things weren’t conclusive, but they were fairly decent indicators that she wasn’t on her deathbed. “She’d be hooked up to a morphine pump or something if she was about to die,” she agreed. “And did you see the video?”