17. Hudson
HUDSON
Ihit Send on an email to my team with changes I’d like to see on the proposed slide deck. I’ll be presenting it to a prospect in New Hampshire next week for their upcoming high-rise excavation.
It’s the end of the day on Friday, and I know my team will grumble about having to work through the weekend, but it’s why I pay them the big bucks. Besides, it’s not my fault they didn’t get this into my inbox until this afternoon.
My phone lights up on my desk with a text.
Maddy
Hey, Pops. I’m bringing the wedding planner over to the ranch on Sunday. She wants to take a look around and get a feel for the venue and setting. Just informing you in case you were planning on staying there this weekend. Don’t want you to be surprised.
Me
I get the feeling you’re telling me not to stay there this weekend.
Her response comes through a minute later.
Maddy
By all means, you should! We could use more input on where the peonies should go, and whether we should alternate the color of the tablecloths.
I chuckle, knowing she knows the exact response I’ll be sending her.
Me
Yeah, I’ll be sick this weekend.
Maddy
Speaking of tables, I have you at the one with Brie’s parents, her sister, and Uncle Jett. Are you going to be okay with that? I can move him if you aren’t comfortable.
I bite my bottom lip, knowing none of this has been easy on my little girl. Sure, she’s not little anymore, but that’ll never change in my eyes.
No matter the differences between me and Jett, he’s always been a doting uncle and one of my daughter’s closest confidants. It hasn’t been easy for her to see the two of us on bad terms, feeling like she’s been tossed in the middle with all our baggage.
Perhaps if he hadn’t come to the office this week to apologize, I might have grumbled about sitting next to him, but given the sincerity of his words, the least I can do is not make a fuss.
As for his business proposal to collaborate on the RCS project? I’m taking my time deliberating on it. I emailed him yesterday to send me a proposal of what his team would be willing to sign up to do and any other stipulations. I consider that as leaving the doors open for further chat.
His words have tumbled around in my head hundreds of times over the week. It’s not that I’m not aware of my high standards when it comes to my staff, but perhaps it was that he called me out for it right after he saw the way I treated Kavi, or that I’d heard it several times from people close to me, but since that day, I’ve made a concerted effort to be more—I shudder even thinking it—warm to my employees.
I even managed not to snap at someone who glanced at his phone during one of my staff meetings today. Then, I refrained from telling a group to get back to their desks when I saw them laughing in one of the kitchenettes.
I’m really turning over a new leaf in my book.
Me
No need. I’m fine sitting beside him. Is he bringing a plus-one?
She already knows I’m not, though she’s asked me to reconsider.
Besides my friends and their wives being on my ass to find someone, my daughter does the same thing. I can’t count how many times she’s asked me if she can set up an online dating profile for me. I’ve said no—not only because I’m not looking to find anything serious right now, but also because it’s fucking weird to have your daughter set it up for you!
She’s relentless though, so I’m positive once the wedding is off her mind, she’ll be back to being a pain in my ass.
Maddy
He is, actually. Someone named Alaria. They’ve been dating for the past few months.
Something like sorrow or remorse gnaws inside my chest as I read her text and Jett’s words—because there’s nothing worse than not having the big brother you’ve always loved in your life—play back inside my head like a doleful melody. Of course, Maddy would know, given she stayed in touch with him, but if I hadn’t decided to cut him off two years ago, without listening to anything he had to say, then perhaps I could have, too.
Another text comes in from her before I can respond.
Maddy
You probably already know, but Kavi is coming, too. How are things going with her?
I run a hand over my stubble, contemplating her question. How are things going with my new admin? It’s a question I’ve been pondering for a while.
We’ve made progress this week, getting into a decent routine, especially since our little disagreement and the subsequent dinner on Monday. We got into it again when I tried to pay for her dinner, and she told me she didn’t need any more of my money than was agreed upon contractually. I told her dinners were part of the contract, as were any other expenses while she was living with me.
She then told me I was a jackass, and I decided I really liked her company. I liked it so much, I wished we could have continued talking for hours, sitting at that same table. Everything, from her upbringing to the reasons why she always had a fruit dangling from her ears, to where and how she grew up intrigued me, kept me wanting more.
It also occurred to me how much trouble I was in, given she was leaving at the end of the summer.
I’ve gotten used to her humming in my kitchen while she bakes and the way she leaves a trail of socks all the way to her room from the laundry room.
We generally eat together in the dining room with our laptops open, and I pretend not to watch the way she chews, or the way she licks her lips, or even the way she leans back in her chair and rubs her stomach, claiming she’s stuffed before finding a way back to the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream, taking it to her art room and humming once again while she works.
I still haven’t mentioned our living situation to Maddy. It’s not that I can’t now, but with both her and Brie under pressure with last-minute details for their wedding, the last thing I want is for Maddy to concern herself with changes to my living situation.
I don’t expect her to be upset, but I imagine she’ll be curious. And with that curiosity will come boatloads of questions, similar to those asked by Garrett. Questions I don’t have the answers to, but questions I’ll be forced to consider before I’m ready.
I’m not ready to be under that kind of magnifying glass just yet.
Me
Fine. She’s not terrible at her job.
Maddy
Wow, Dad. That’s like a raving 5-star review from you. You’re welcome for the referral, by the way. Feel free to give me a referral bonus in the form of a lavish wedding gift.
I snort, typing out my response.
Me
Pretty sure using my farmhouse, decorating it with peonies and God-knows-what, suffices as your lavish wedding gift.
She has no idea, of course, that I have already booked a villa and flights to Mykonos for her and Brie for their honeymoon.
Maddy
Speaking of Kavi, I have her seated on the other side, next to one of Brie’s friends from college. His name is Adam, and Brie and I think they might really hit it off. He actually lives a half hour outside of Portland, so we’re hoping to set them up.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, as if I’m sitting on hot coals, my good mood plummeting with each word I read from my daughter’s text.
I type a response before deleting and retyping it, trying to sprinkle in a little humor. Though, the last thing I feel is humorous as something green and grotesque unveils itself inside me.
Me
Oh? Is she aware of your side hustle as a matchmaker?
My fingers drum an unsteady beat on my desk as I await her response, my stomach churning like a stormy sea.
Maddy
Oh yeah. She’s excited to meet him.
Yeah, I don’t fucking think so.
I don’t bother responding, picking up my office phone to call Kavi in before I even know what I’m doing.
Blood pumps through my veins like a turbulent river while my mind swims with the visions of some faceless asshole holding her, touching her . . .
I rise from my seat, pacing to collect my thoughts, when I hear the thumps of her boots in the hallway outside my door.
She knocks before letting herself in, her golden gaze nervously taking in the green goblin fuming back at her. “W-what’s wrong?”
I ignore the way her thighs look under the too-short, light blue skirt she has on today, or the way her fucking sweet scent filters through the air, charging at me.
“Are you taking a plus-one to Maddy’s wedding?” I ask through thinned lips.
Her dark brows knit. That was not the response she was expecting. “What?”
“She said you weren’t taking a plus-one.”
“You asked Maddy if I was bringing anyone?” Kavi steps forward, coming to the middle of the room.
“No. She told me you were excited at the possibility of meeting some douchebag they were trying to set you up with.”
Kavi’s mouth opens for a moment before she closes it, likely wondering where the hell I’m going with my line of questioning. I’m wondering the same, but clearly, I can’t help myself. “Okay . . . And?”
I swallow, realizing I’ve covered the steps between us without even realizing it. “And that’s not part of our arrangement.”
She scoffs. “I’m sorry, what?”
The muscles in my back bunch together. “It’s not part of our business arrangement. Dating, bringing men over to my house to—”
Her nostrils flare, her eyes alight with defiance. “When did my dating life become a part of this arrangement? When did you decide you had any say in it?”
I step forward, eliminating the inch of space between us. “Since you said yes to moving in with me.”
“A decision I had little sway in,” she retorts, her mouth forming a tight line.
“I never held a gun to your head, Kavi. You could have simply said no.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What the hell is your problem? Why are you acting like a lunatic again?”
I lean down, my eyes locking with hers. “My problem is that I will not allow assholes you decide to sleep with into my home.”
Kavi looks murderous for a moment, silently glaring at me before a derisive laugh escapes her. “No problem! No one I choose to sleep with will be over at your house . . .” she turns around, looking over her shoulder, “because I’ll be at theirs.”
Before she can take a step forward, I grasp her wrist and turn her around so her chest crashes into mine. My words are minced, my glare deadly. “No, you won’t.”
A flash of lightning dances in her irises before her lids droop over them and her fingers curl into the space between the buttons of my shirt, fisting it.
Her chest rises and falls in the same erratic way my heart seems to thrum. “Yeah?” she whispers. “And how do you plan to stop me, Mr. Case?”
With a growl, I drag my fingers through the side of her head before grasping a chunk of her wavy hair in my fist. I pull so her chin lifts, her kiwi-shaped earrings dangling gently over her neck. Her luscious mouth with that gem sparkling over her upper lip opens, as if waiting for me. “No plan, only a promise to.”
Her soft breath fans my lips, making my cock stiffen painfully inside my pants. “Sounds to me like you’re all talk, old man . . .”
This fucking girl.
Without another thought, I slam my mouth to hers, silencing her and pouring every ounce of my irritation into a punishing kiss.
A growl rattles inside my chest as I taste her for the first time. She tastes exactly the way she smells—sweet and tempting, like all the things I could get addicted to.
Like all the things I shouldn’t get addicted to.
Her lips are soft and plump, moving in time with mine, as our mouths open and our tongues meet.
Her rogue hands climb up my chest, one grasping the hair at the nape of my neck, the other tightening over my shoulder while orange fingernails dig into my shirt.
Something carnal and free hums inside me as I plunge my tongue deeper into her mouth, coaxing a soft moan from her. Our tongues tangle, our chests heave, and our mouths claim, desperately, hungrily.
With a groan, she pushes up on her toes and I pull her hips against mine, letting her feel the way my dick strains for her.
Kavi’s eyes are closed, her head tilted to give me access, and God, she feels good in my arms. So fucking good and intoxicating, I wonder if I’d even been alive before this.
I angle her face as our tongues seek more, and she wiggles and mewls against me while I practically hold myself back from dragging her to my desk and fucking her senseless.
She pulls on my hair, opening her mouth wider, letting me take and give. I coast my hand up her waist, brushing my thumb over her breast, and swallow the whimper that escapes her.
Fuck, she is going to ruin me. Destroy me.
My walls, my guard, my every attempt at self-preservation.
She’ll leave a trail of wreckage in her path.
I drag my hand up to her neck, feeling her warm skin against mine. Her pulse races under my fingertips, similar to the way my blood rushes through my body, going south. Jesus, I could drown in her; I could asphyxiate and die right here, and I wouldn’t be sorry.
I take her mouth brutally, mercilessly, as my hand settles into her midnight hair. I tilt her head the other way, my mouth working against hers, unsure if I’m even breathing. I had no idea how ravenous I was for her all this time.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to hire her as my temp. Maybe this was the most brilliant thing I’ve ever done.
Reaching a point where we both need to take a breath, but not wanting to let go, I pull away from her, loving the way her mouth immediately forms a frown. Her lips are pink, bee-stung from my kiss and my scruff running over her soft skin, and fuck, if they don’t make me feel feral. Like I’ve marked her.
She lifts her lids, the air still thick between us, not stepping away from me—I wouldn’t let her, even if she wanted to. Her hands are still fisting my shirt when she seems to recall where she is or what just happened, blinking rapidly. I’m only a second away from hoisting her up in my arms and pulling that skirt up over her thighs, keeping her stuck inside the fantasy she thinks she was living.
Her hands unfurl, tapping my chest. “Okay, so perhaps you’ve made your point clear.” Her voice is hoarse and raspy, her breath still mingling with mine, when amber eyes drop down to the place where we’re still attached, and she inhales a shuddered breath.
Shamelessly, my dick twitches at the sound.
I take a step back from her, though I’m working against every instinct not to, before rounding my desk and sitting back down. It’s the only way I can ensure I don’t fuck her within an inch of her life, right here and right now.
Turning back to my laptop and pretending to be interested in a document that could be written in Greek for all I know, I say, “I’ll see you at home. Please close the door on your way out.”
She stands there a moment, probably wondering what the hell just happened, before she starts to back up.
I don’t have to look at her to know her hands are clasped and fidgeting in front of her and she’s nodding, even though she knows I’m not acknowledging it. “Y-yes. Okay. I’ll just . . .” Her back hits the side of the open door and she winces. “I’ll just head—”
She doesn’t finish the sentence, rushing down the hall, while my mouth turns into the biggest smile I’ve had in a while.