By the time we reached the sleepy, mountain town that Hudson lived in the tears had dried up. the hiccupping sobs that consumed my body were no more. And in its wake it left crippling embarrassment. I was a self-made, well put together woman who was acting like she could take on the world and here I was falling apart at the seams in front of someone who was technically my employer.

"If you could just take me to a hotel I would really appreciate that," I stated, staring straight out of the windshield. The less time I had to spend with him after that outburst the better.

"No," Hudson blurted.

"No?"

"I'd really prefer to not just dump you into a hotel right now and there's no reason that you can't stay with me."

"Hudson please, I would like to stay in a hotel."

"I'm not going to push you to stay with me, but I can't put a hotel room in my home town on the Rush credit card without an explanation and after what you just told me I don't want you to have to pay for a night either. Just stay with me for one night and we can sort everything out in the morning."

"I don't need pity," I bit out, feeling so close to tears again. When Connor and I had originally broken up I thought I had cried all of my tears, but here I was crying over what he had done to me for the second time this month. And now some guy I barely knew was trying to pick up the pieces.

"This isn't pity, princess, this is me being a rational human being. I don't want to pay for a hotel room and you can't afford one. I had a couch that serves as a pretty good bed when needed. That way I don't have to pick you up again when I take you back to your car," he explained as he shoulder checked and turned on his signal. "The only reasonable grounds that have to deny my offer is that you don't like dogs or chicken wings."

My tense shoulders dropped as I blew out a heavy sigh. "Even the Grinch likes dogs."

Hudson said nothing, but the smile that tugged up the corner of his lips spoke volumes. Shortly after we were pulling into a narrow driveway. The small garage door opened up for us and Hudson eased the little crossover inside. I unbuckled myself and climbed out of the car.

"Just leave your gear in the back, we don't want to have to repack it for tomorrow," Hudson instructed.

But I wasn't listening to his words. My eyes were flitting around the packed garage. There was a bike hanging from the ceiling by its tires, a kayak propped up against the wall, a collapsed tent, and even a pair of skates with a hockey stick. It seemed like this guy did a little bit of everything and hated being idle.

A loud bark pulled me out of my train of thought. Hudson's face exploded into a massive grin.

"Ready to meet Max?"

Max was an excited, yipping, licking poodle who seemed to love Hudson more than he loved life itself. As soon as Hudson opened the door into the duplex Max was jumping up, placing his fluffy paws on his chest and whining. He did come to sniff me, but it was a single inhale, then he was back to his person, whimpering and circling him.

"Sorry, he's not usually like this," Hudson apologized, but the way he was patting the dog and rubbing his ears told me that he wasn't that apologetic.

"Was he here by himself the whole weekend?" I asked. I unlaced the heavy, clunky boots that Hudson bought for me and stepped out of them. Max investigated for a second then raced back over to Hudson.

"No, my brother or mom comes to watch him while I'm gone. Honestly, you just couldn't give this little guy enough love. He always acts like he's deprived. Come on, by the time I show you around he'll have calmed down."

My first impression of the duplex was that it was small. Smaller than any apartment or townhouse that Connor and I had lived in together. But it was all modern, clean and new. So clean, in fact, that I wondered if he had a cleaning lady come regularly or if he was just never here.

Still, through all of the sharp lines, white tiles, and stainless steel appliances there were hints at the mountain surrounds. For one, there was an incredible view out of every available window. And there were also smaller signs, like a stone fireplace, the canvas in the hallway with a grumpy bear on it, and super thick blankets on the couch and loveseat. If I had to be snowed in for the night this was not the worst place for it to happen.

The only problem was that he showed me the whole space, ending at one bedroom. A bedroom that had a wall covered in dangling medals and a shelf with dozens of trophies. There was a single framed picture on the wooden nightstand. Hudson was in the middle with one arm around a woman who must've been his mother and a man I assumed was his father.

"You can sleep here for the night. My mom always goes on a cleaning frenzy whenever I go away and let her watch Max so the sheets and everything are clean," he assured.

"I can't sleep in your room, where will you sleep?" I asked.

"On the couch." He shrugged.

"I can't do that, this is your house," I argued, "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Unless you sixty five pounds of dog laying on your chest and to wake up to your face being licked I think its best if I sleep on the couch. Come on, let's do your laundry and put some frozen food in the oven."

At that I let out a groan. "No, I left my clothes in the back of my car. I took out everything valuable, but I left the stuff I actually need. Damn it."

"Hey, all good, I'm sure that I have something that you can put on. In weather like this we won't be going anywhere anyway. I'll grab you something so you can shower right now."

He moved to enter his room but I caught his wrist in my hand, causing him to stop.

Those chocolatey brown eyes met mine with such warmth and concern that I had to look away.

"Thank you, Hudson, for everything."