Hudson chuckled. “Hell no.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “I was actually thinking we could get married here.”

“At the lake?”

He nodded. “The weekend we spent here in October, the time we shared . . . something changed between us that last night. I suspect that’s the night you realized you loved me. Without a doubt it’s when I knew I loved you, and that I always had.” He took a deep breath. “I take risks on a daily basis, Allie, but I will never again take one that jeopardizes what we have. Nothing in the world is worth more than that. I’m just sorry I wasn’t man enough to admit it then.”

“Shh,” Allie pressed her fingers to his lips. “I think this would be the perfect place to get married.”

Hudson dropped a quick kiss to her mouth and grinned like a son of a bitch. “It’s settled then. We’ll marry at sunset tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Allie’s voice reached a pitch he was certain only mammals of the four-legged variety could hear.

“Yes,” he said emphatically.

“We’re in the middle of this huge mess with Julian.”

“All the more reason. Despite the uncertainty in our lives right now, there’s one thing I’m sure of, and it’s that I intend to spend the rest of my life with you. I see no reason to postpone that simply because Julian wants to maintain some fucked-up love triangle. Besides,” Hudson flashed a broad grin. “I’m a man of opportunity, and when I see one I take it. Tomorrow will be our wedding day. I want to say vows to each other; I want you to take my name, become Mrs. Hudson Chase.” Allie opened her mouth, but he kept talking. “I won’t argue with you if you choose to hyphenate, but—to our family, friends, colleagues—you’ll bear my name as my wife. I am madly in love with you, Allie, and I need to start the rest of our lives together immediately. I can’t wait.”

“I don’t want to wait either, but have you forgotten we’re not even dating at the moment?”

“How could I forget?” The muscles in Hudson’s jaw flexed.

“I know we don’t have much family between us, but I’d like to at least have Nick and Harper here.”

“So would I, but we can’t tell them.”

“Harper is going to be pissed. We sort of have this whole maid of honor pact going.”

“Nick will no doubt hang this over my head until I’m six feet under. Once this whole mess is resolved we can marry again in front of our friends and family, as many times as you want, anywhere you want. Whatever your heart desires, I’ll give it to you. We can announce our engagement in the newspapers, take publicity photos; hell, I’ll even argue with you over seating charts if that’s what you want. And you can invite all of Chicago, I don’t care. But tomorrow will be about us, for us. I want you to be my wife, and the only person I need in attendance is a minister. Everything else has been taken care of—flowers, dresses, hair, and makeup—whatever you need has been arranged.”

“That confident I’d say yes?”

He grinned. “That hopeful.”

“Wait, did you say dresses?”

“In the guest bedroom. I had a local shop send over several for you to choose from. Don’t worry,” he added quickly. “Even I know that the groom can’t see the dress. Though I look forward to seeing you out of it.” A sinful grin curved his lips. “Take a look at them after dinner. If none suit your taste, I’ll have more brought in tomorrow.”

A slight blush colored Allie’s cheeks. “I thought you knew my taste,” she teased.

“Oh, I do.” Hudson’s lips brushed her jaw. “Exquisite perfection. Sweet, and all mine.” Allie sank into him as he ran his open mouth down her throat. “But when the woman started to mention fabric choices and bodice cuts, I threw my hands up in surrender.”

She laughed as he found that sensitive spot beneath her ear. “Well, you men have it easy. The black tux or the black tux?”

He smiled against her skin. “You never know. I could have opted for the powder blue.”

Allie reared back and a frown creased her brow. Hudson reached up to smooth the velvety skin with the pad of his thumb. “I’m playing, Allie.”

“No, not that. What if . . . Well, it’s just that you and I, we’re always in formal attire for one event or another. But the weekend we spent here in yoga pants and jeans, it was one of the happiest times I’ve ever known. I want to start our lives off the exact same way.”

He cocked a brow. “Are you suggesting we marry in jeans?”

Allie nodded. “As much as I love you in a tuxedo, I love you like this even more.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wear a fancy white dress? Don’t little girls dream about that sort of thing?”

“This girl has spent ten years dreaming about being with you again. And now I’m going to be your wife. The clothes we wear are irrelevant. I can wear a proper wedding dress when we do this again for our family and friends. But tomorrow, like you said, is just about us. And this is who we are.”

Hudson dipped his head and his tongue did a slow sweep along the curve of her lip before he sealed his mouth over hers in a kiss. His shoulders rolled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tighter against him. As he poured everything he felt for her into this kiss, he thought about the woman Allie had become—forgiving, compassionate, beautiful, intelligent—and he was one lucky SOB that she loved a shell of a man like himself. Life was way too fucking short, and one lifetime with her wasn’t ever going to be enough. He would marry her every damn year to prove that he was done searching. She was it. Such a fucking sap he’d become. Like he gave a shit. Hudson broke the kiss and traced her now-reddened, swollen lips. “The rehearsal dinner is at seven with rehearsal for the honeymoon to follow.”

“Oh, no.”

“What?”

“Not until the wedding night.”

“You’re shitting me, right?”

A glint of amusement lit Allie’s hazel eyes, the gold flecks brightening over the asinine idea. “We may not be the most traditional couple, but I’m not having sex with you the night before our wedding.”

“That’s fine, you can just fuck me.”

“Hudson,” Allie admonished.

“Make love?”

“Seriously.”

“You expect me to sleep in the same bed with you and not touch you? Fuck, Allie, it’s been a week.”

“No. I’ll sleep in one of the guest rooms.”

“The guest rooms are wedding central at the moment.”

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Like hell you will.” Hudson exhaled a harsh breath. “You can have the master bedroom and I’ll take the couch. But for the record, this no-sex rule is horseshit.”

Allie fought a smile and failed miserably. She was mocking him, for Christ’s sake. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Hudson grinned. “But I’ll let you make it up to me.”

“Is that so?”

“Hmm. But for now, dinner with your fiancé.”

She giggled. “Short engagement.”

“Indeed.” They turned back toward the house and he gave her a quick smack on the ass. “Enjoy your last night as Miss Sinclair, baby.”

Chapter Seventeen

Allie’s eyes flew open and she froze. Her heart raced as she listened through the darkness, praying the sound that woke her had been merely in her head. But then she heard it again, a guttural moan of tormented pain.

“No . . . leave him alone . . . don’t take him.”

Hudson’s cries had her bolting out of bed. When she reached the top of the stairs she saw him on the couch, his fists clenching the sheet beneath him, his body twisting as if being pulled. At first she assumed the nightmare was about losing Nick, that he was reliving that horrible moment when his brother had been literally torn from his arms. But then he said something else. Something that stopped her in her tracks.