Chapter Two
Hudson
“What the hell did I just walk in on?” Braden’s glare flickers over Bri, settling directly on me.
“What does it look like?” Bri asks. “And before you go all big brother on me, I’m an adult, and I can kiss whoever I want.”
She obviously isn’t about to let her twin push her around, and I admire her spunk.
“You’re in a public place,” Braden says, still sounding pissed off.
“We’re behind closed doors, and you didn’t knock.
” I step forward and put myself front and center.
“Lay off your sister, Braden. We didn’t do a damn thing wrong,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. Braden may be my best friend, but I’m not about to let him harass Bri over something that is none of his business.
Braden raises both hands in defeat. “Fine. I’ll back off. You just took me by surprise. I don’t want to see my sister lip locked with anyone, let alone my best friend.” His frown epitomizes every brother’s reaction to walking in the way he had.
Bri walks over and places her hand on Braden’s shoulder. “Don’t walk in when a door’s shut and you won’t see anything that might make you want to scrub your eyeballs.”
His gaze falls to her hands, his eyes opening wide, obviously noticing her bandages for the first time. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m glad you realized what’s important.” She laughs and nods. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“Jimmy asked her for money, and when she opened her purse, he went to grab it,” I say.
“I pulled back and fell. Just a little road rash.” She waves her hands in the air. “I’ll live.”
“The man’s a hazard,” Braden mutters.
“He didn’t mean to hurt her, and you know it. We’ve treated him enough to know that his intentions are always good. That said, we should put installing cameras outside on our list of to-do things when we get the money to renovate this place.”
“What kind of renovations?” Bri glances from her brother to me. Our eyes meet, and sizzling awareness flashes between us, that kiss still very much on my mind and obviously on hers.
“Hudson and I have plans for this clinic if we can raise the funds we need. I’m going to talk to Uncle Paul this weekend.” Braden’s pseudo uncle–father is wealthy enough to fund his half of our plan.
My grandfather had left me a trust fund, but my father, Martin, is the trustee, and the chances of him giving me the money without strings are slim to none.
Hence my upcoming trip to New York this coming weekend.
Ever since Evan’s death, my father’s notion of continuing the family lineage with a grandchild has fallen on me, and it is suffocating enough to prevent me from going home to New York after I left Doctors Without Borders.
Now that I need something from the man, I am sure my parent will make me pay one way or another to get what he wants.
“Well, you know I want details, but I’m too tired to focus on them now.” Bri glances at her hands. “Something tells me I’m going to have a tough few days getting any work done.”
“You don’t need to keep the gauze on. Just for a day or two. If you come back, I can rewrap it for you. Or if it’s easier, I’ll stop by,” I offer.
“Ooh, making house calls, Dr. Northfield?” She deliberately bats her eyelashes at me, and I grin.
I like that she can keep her sense of humor in the face of pain and problems. I like that she can tease me even more.
Braden fake coughs loudly. “I’m still in the room.”
With a roll of her eyes, she walks over and kisses Braden on the cheek. “Willow’s dress is with Nikki out front. Tell her I said thank you and I’ll call her soon.”
“I will. Are you sure you can drive?” He gestures to the bandages around her palms and wrist.
She nods. “I’ll manage.”
“Call me and let me know how you’re doing, or I will track you down and hound you, and I know you don’t want that.” Leaning forward, he kisses her cheek.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” I step forward and grasp her elbow.
Braden opens his mouth, probably to argue that he’ll do it, but he takes one look at Bri’s face and caves. “Drive carefully,” Braden says instead.
“I will,” she promises her twin, no joking in her tone.
Glancing over my shoulder, I meet Braden’s gaze. “We’ll talk when I come back inside.”
Hand on Bri’s lower back, I guide her out of the room, down the hall, and into the waiting area. “I’ll be back,” I tell Nikki.
“Okay, Dr. Northfield,” the receptionist says without looking up from her work.
The sun has set and the lights in the parking lot don’t all work. Dammit. I have to get the money from my father, because I doubt I can get the funding I need from a bank.
I pause at the car and hear the beep of her doors unlocking. A light reaches us from the corner of the lot, and when she turns toward me, I glimpse her pretty face in shadows.
“Thank you for everything tonight,” she says, head tipped up toward me.
I smile and brush my knuckles over her cheek. “I’m glad I was here. Do me a favor?”
She lifts her eyebrows. “What’s that?”
“Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.” And I don’t mean I am checking up on her in a brotherly way, either.
“Okay.” From the gleam in her eye, she obviously knows I am expressing interest.
What kind? What can we have together? I have no idea. Not yet. But I intend to find out.
* * *
I wait for Bri to drive away before I stride back into the clinic to find Braden, who has settled into our shared office.
Ever since we’d started working, the original head doctor, Thomas Anderson, began shifting more work our way and doing less on his end, just one of the reasons we are working on a takeover plan.
“Hey.” I pull out a chair and drop into it, the long day catching up with me.
Braden turns and glares.
“Knock it off,” I mutter. “It’s not like I’m some asshole who’s going to hurt your sister.”
“You’re not someone with serious relationships in your background, either.” Braden’s point is well made.
My romantic history is bland at best. I’ve had women in my life but none who’ve stuck or whom I’ve had any interest in pursuing a serious relationship with. Until Bri, but I’m not going to share my feelings about her with Braden. Whatever happens between us is private.
“Trust me or not, but I’m not discussing her with you.” I kick my feet up on the desk. “Want to order in dinner?”
After a long stare off, Braden nods. He calls in sandwiches from a nearby restaurant, and then talk turns to our plans to turn this run-down clinic into a state-of-the-art health center.
“Are you going to New York this weekend?” Braden asks, leaning back in his seat.
I nod. “My cousin is getting married, and we’re close. I wouldn’t miss it anyway, so I might as well kill two birds with one stone and talk to my father about releasing his hold on my trust fund.”
“It’s for a damned good cause.” Braden gestures around us.
I don’t need to look at the peeling beige walls, cracks on the ceiling, or old equipment to know my friend is right.
“I’ve never asked him for a cent for anything frivolous.
I hope Dad takes that into account.” But I know my father doesn’t care about good deeds and helping others.
I shrug because I’ve never understood my father and never will.
“He and Evan were alike. Dedicated to the trading business and caring about things like family legacy and heirs. It sounds like a nineteenth-century drama.”
Evan had been married, he and his wife trying to get her pregnant when he’d passed. TMI as far as I am concerned, but that’s how my family is. Trying to birth an heir to the fortune.
“I’m really sorry you lost him,” Braden says.
“I know you are, and I appreciate it.” It is different for my friend, I think. Braden is close with all of his siblings, whereas Evan and I had been distant, not sharing things in common. “I miss the thought of him, but we rarely spoke, so I have some guilt tied up with it all.”
Braden frowns. “You shouldn’t carry that burden because you were different and didn’t bond. Grieve? Of course. But don’t feel guilty.”
“I’m working on it.” I swing my legs around and place my feet on the floor and rise. “As far as our plan, we’ll know a lot more after I go home this weekend.” And I’m not looking forward to the trip or the groveling I’ll have to do in order to get what I want.
I work a late shift at the clinic and finally lock up for the night.
The warm Florida air hits me when I exit, but after two years in Brazil, I am used to humidity and heat.
I climb into my Ford SUV, turn on the ignition, and raise the AC, plugging in my phone and setting the music before pulling out of the lot.
I drum my fingers to a current song on the radio as I drive toward the apartment I rent in the same building as Braden, when my cell phone rings and my father’s name pops up on the screen.
Son of a bitch. Although I am tempted to ignore the call, my father will only try again later. The man is persistent, and I have been ducking him lately, if only to give myself some peace.
I hit the button that accepts the call. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hudson, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he says in his typical annoyed tone, which comes through the car speakers.
I roll my eyes. “I’m fine. How are you?”
“Your mother and I are fine as well, something you would know if you’d picked up or called me back.”
“I have two jobs,” I remind my father. “My free time is minimal.”
“You wouldn’t need to work those hours if you came home and took a job with Northfield International.” The family international trading business that I want nothing to do with.
I let out a low chuckle. “Are you forgetting you paid for medical school?”
“Yes, well, as you know, I had your brother to ultimately run the company then.” Fate had disrupted Martin’s plan.