While We Waited (Smuggler’s Hideaway #3)

Chapter 2

Hudson – the king of grumps who doesn’t think he deserves sunshine

Hudson

D amnit. I shove my phone in my pocket. I hate hanging up on Nova. But it’s for the best. She’s sunshine and happiness and all things good. I don’t deserve good things.

There’s a knock on my door. “Boss.”

Great. A distraction. “What is it?”

The door opens and my front desk manager, Wesley, sticks his head inside. “Someone’s asking to see the owner.”

I push to my feet. My right ankle wobbles but I ignore it. I’m used to ignoring the pain.

“What’s the problem?” I ask as we walk toward the lobby.

“Noise complaint.”

Noise complaint? Noise complaints are extremely rare at the resort. This isn’t some old hotel building with paper-thin walls. I had the place built from the ground up and made sure all the rooms are soundproof. I spent a decade of my life living in hotel rooms when I played ball in the NFL. I know how important a quiet room is.

We enter the lobby and two women come rushing toward us. Wesley clears his throat. “This is the boss, Mr. Clark.”

The first woman rakes her gaze over me and licks her lips. “Oh, we know who Hudson Clark is.”

Great. A football groupie. I haven’t played football in three years due to my injury but groupies don’t care. They throw themselves at me whether I want them to or not. It’s why I returned to the island of Smuggler’s Hideaway where I grew up. The locals know me and know to leave me alone.

The second woman scoots closer to stand next to her friend. “We can show you a good time, Double Crown.”

I scowl. I hate the nickname Double Crown. It’s pretentious. I’m not some pompous ass. Football is a team sport. I didn’t win those two Super Bowls. My team did.

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at the women. “I understand there was a noise complaint.”

The first woman rolls her eyes. “How else could we get your attention?”

“Yeah.” The other woman nods. “We’ve been here all weekend and we didn’t bump into you once.”

Another reason I stay as far away from the guests as possible. I don’t want to be the notch on some football groupie’s bedpost. There’s only one woman I want to spend any time in bed with. I clear my throat and force thoughts of Nova’s smile out of my mind. The woman is not for me.

My cock twitches. It obviously disagrees.

“If there’s no noise complaint, I need to return to my work.”

I try to walk away but the first woman latches onto my bicep. “Don’t go. We haven’t had a chance to get to know you yet.”

These women don’t want to get to know me. They want to brag to their friends about how they had sex with a football player. I could be a faceless man for all they care.

The lobby doors open and two men rush inside. “Get your hands off of her!”

I raise my arms in the air. “Not touching her.”

One of the men grabs the second woman and pulls her away while the other man squares up with me.

“I said. Get your hands off of my wife.”

Fucking hell. I wish I could say this is the first time I’ve dealt with an angry husband, but it’s not. It’s not the second, either. I stopped counting a while ago.

“Sir, I’m not touching your wife.” I wiggle my hands which are still in the air.

“I don’t care how you’re some big football legend. You can’t go around seducing married women.”

I don’t seduce women period. Not since my rookie year when I caught a woman poking holes in a condom. I learned my lesson awful quick. No strange women in my hotel room.

“Sir. I’m not touching your wife,” I repeat.

He yanks his wife away from me. “Not anymore you aren’t.”

His wife rubs her arm where he touched her. “Maybe you should focus more on how you touch your wife rather than how strangers do.”

He stomps toward me and gets in my face. Never mind how at six-foot-three I’m several inches taller than him.

He pokes me in the chest. “You do not tell me how to treat my wife.”

The lobby doors open again and two police officers stroll inside. I don’t know who contacted them but I’m grateful they did. I have no intention of spending my Monday morning fighting with some man who doesn’t know how to treat his wife.

“Well, well, well, what is Huddy up to now?”

I grit my teeth. I hate the nickname Huddy more than Double Crown. But the inhabitants of the island enjoy reminding me of how I’m plain ‘ol Huddy to them.

“Hey, Weston,” I greet. I went to high school with Weston. He was two grades ahead of me but in a small community like Smuggler’s Hideaway, everyone knows everyone.

“Lucas,” I nod to his partner who I met when he had his wedding at the resort two months ago.

Weston scans the scene and smirks. “Nothing’s changed since high school I see.”

“Of course, you have the police in your pocket,” the husband mutters before poking me in the chest again. “This man was assaulting my wife.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Wesley says. He sweeps an arm over the lobby where numerous people have their phones out recording the incident. Great. Just great. Those videos will be on social media within the hour. My agent is going to lose his mind.

“Everyone here knows the truth,” he continues.

“And the truth is?” Lucas asks.

“Perhaps we should continue this someplace more private,” I suggest.

“Private?” The husband scoffs. “You want to run away, Mr. Hot Shot Football Star?”

“I was trying to save you from embarrassment but if you want to do this here, fine by me.” I shrug. It won’t be the first time my face is on the front page of a gossip magazine. I would hope it’ll be the last, but I know better.

“Save me from embarrassment?” he shouts. “You’re the one who tried to steal my wife away.”

Steal his wife away? Really? I met her less than five minutes ago.

“And you’re the one who assaulted your wife when you grabbed her.”

The atmosphere in the room becomes icy but he doesn’t notice. “She’s my wife. I can’t assault her! She’s mine!”

Weston steps in front of the man. “It’s time for us to have a little chat. In private.”

“This is bullshit.”

Weston removes his handcuffs from his belt and twirls them in the air. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your decision.”

“You’re protecting him because he’s a football player.”

“I’ve known Huddy since before he could throw a ball,” Weston says. “If I recall correctly, he peed on the first football his dad ever gave him.”

“Weston,” I growl. “It’s not story time.”

He shrugs. “Merely showing the man how I’m not biased.”

“Not biased my ass!” The man screams in Weston’s face. “You’re handcuffing me while he gets away with trying to steal my wife from me.”

“I wasn’t handcuffing you, but I am now.”

Weston quickly secures the man before leading him out the door. “I’ll get his statement. You get the witness statements,” he instructs Lucas.

The second the door closes behind them, his wife throws herself at me. “Thank you. Thank you.”

I raise my hands in the air and grit my teeth. I don’t want her touching me. If any woman is going to touch me, it’ll be—

I shove thoughts of Nova and her bright smile away. No women will be touching me. Period.

Lucas untangles the woman from me. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”

I nod to my front desk manager. “Wesley will show you the way to a private conference room you can use.”

“Can you have someone round up any footage they recorded of the incident?” he asks before starting down the hallway behind Wesley.

“I’ll handle it, boss,” one of the front desk workers, Roger, says.

The woman’s friend hurries after them. “Can I go with her? For moral support?”

Lucas agrees and the three of them disappear down the hallway with Wesley while Roger herds everyone together. He asks everyone for their name and email address before checking the footage on their phones and forwarding it to the resort. I’m impressed. I’ll keep my eye on the man in the future.

Another hour passes before all the witnesses have been interviewed by Lucas and Weston. I remain in the lobby to oversee the situation in case I’m needed.

When Weston and Lucas finally depart, with the husband handcuffed in the back of their patrol car, I make my way back to my office. I shut the door behind me and collapse in my chair.

What a morning.

My phone rings and I dig it out of my pocket. Nova calling.

I’m tempted to answer. Just to hear her happy voice.

But I don’t. I hit ignore and throw the phone on my desk.

Nova should stay far, far away from me.