HUDSON
CHAPTER FIVE
I had a plan to woo Tinsley until she couldn’t resist me.
And I’ve been failing at every turn. Fucking hell.
Then I went and made things worse by kissing her.
I never should’ve kissed her. It was a tactical error, a clumsy move by a man who usually plays three moves ahead of the board.
Now, my brain is a chaotic loop of her taste and the feel of her soft, curvy body pressed against mine.
I want her more than my next breath, but I can’t get her to give me the fucking time of day.
Goddammit.
The laptop on the massive oak desk pings, a sharp, digital intrusion that echoes against the high, vaulted ceilings. I check the time on my watch. Four o'clock. The weekly council is just about to start. My assistant, Morgan, sticks her head in the door. “It’s time for your call.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” Usually, I look forward to these video meetings with my siblings, but today, I don’t feel like dealing with their shit. “You can head out. I’m going to give up for the day once my call is over.”
“Sounds good.” She smiles and breezes out the door as I settle into the high-backed leather chair and hit the join button.
Instantly, the screen tiles with the faces of my siblings.
It's the usual Carrington circus, broadcast in high definition from everyone’s home offices.
Tanner’s leaning back, boots on his desk, looking like he hasn't a care in the world.
Cole is sitting at his desk back in Montana, a backdrop of snow-capped mountains visible through the window behind him, looking far too relaxed for a Tuesday.
Silas is in his office in the main barn, and Maggie is curled up in her favorite chair, a mug of tea in her hand.
"Look at that face," Tanner says immediately, leaning in so close his nose fills the frame. "That’s the face of a man who just had his ass handed to him by a woman who just isn’t into him."
"He looks like he swallowed a lemon," Silas pipes in.
I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest, the silk of my shirt tight against my shoulders. “Are you assholes ready to actually work?”
"Why do something so boring?" Cole chimes in, his voice smooth and teasing. “The Carrington Corporation is running smoothly. I want to discuss you losing your mind over Cash Montoya’s receptionist.”
Maggie shifts in her chair, her bright blue eyes narrowing as she studies me through the screen.
She's the youngest, the baby of the family, but she's always had the most terrifyingly accurate read on all our emotions. “The Grapevine has been buzzing ever since you started stalking Cash’s new receptionist.”
I feel a muscle in my jaw jump. “Her name is Tinsley, and it isn’t stalking. I’m wooing her.”
“I hate to tell you this, Huddie Poo.” Tanner snorts, letting out a bark of laughter. “It’s only wooing if she’s into you too. And from what I’ve heard, she thinks of you as fungus she can’t get rid of.”
“Fuck off.” I don’t give a shit that it’s immature to flip off the asshole. It makes me feel better.
Silas whistles low, the sound distorted by his laptop mic. “It sucks that you’re striking out.”
"Hold up, guys. This is serious," Maggie says, and her voice has lost its teasing edge.
She leans forward, her expression turning clinical, the way it does when she's about to dismantle a flawed business plan.
"Hudson, you're treating this woman like a hostile takeover.
You're trying to buy her with things, and that obviously isn’t going to work with her. "
The words hit like a cold splash of water, shocking and unwelcome.
I want to argue. I want to tell her that I'm being romantic, but goddammit, I need all the help I can get right now.
“Fuck me,” I mutter and rub my hand down the back of my neck.
The silence that follows is heavy, thick with the weight of the truth.
"She isn’t a deal to be closed, Hud," Maggie adds softly, her eyes kind but firm.
I nod slowly, the gears in my head finally shifting into a new alignment, and I finally admit to myself that I’m fucking this up. I need to change direction if I have any hope of winning Tinsley.
"Fine," I say, clearing my throat. “Point taken. I have some rethinking to do.”
I end the call before they can get in any more parting shots, the screen going black and leaving me with my own reflection in the monitor.
The silence returns to my office, but it's different now.
It's contemplative. I stand up and walk to the tall windows, watching the sun dip toward the horizon.
The Texas sky is a bruised orange, throwing long, skeletal shadows across the ranch land I've spent my life protecting.
This land is easy to manage. It responds to irrigation, to sunlight, to hard work.
It doesn't talk back. It doesn't put me in my place.
I pull my phone out and open the background file I had compiled on Tinsley. I'd read it before, looking for leverage, looking for an opening. Now, I read it for understanding.
She grew up in foster care in New York. After graduating at the top of her high school class, she attended NYU.
She worked three jobs while attending college full-time and earned a degree in Business Administration within three years.
Not long after graduation, she took the job with Montoya Investments.
This woman has spent her entire life working her ass off for what she wants, and she obviously doesn’t take shit from anyone.
The truth lands inside me like a branding iron—searing, merciless. If I want to win her, I have to stop all the bullshit and start acting like a man who deserves to own her heart.
How hard could that be?
The second I start to think about how a normal guy might handle this, my phone buzzes on the desk.
It’s a text from Rick in the ranch garage. Fuck. I’d forgotten about having her car towed there last night.
Rick
It isn’t pretty. Fixing her car will cost more than the thing is worth. With all the parts and labor, you’re looking at 5K. Only reason it’s still running is stubbornness and prayer. Let me know if you want me to tow it out to the junkyard or try for a hail Mary.
I stare at the message, thumb hovering over the screen. The old me would handle it. Tell Rick to junk the car and order Tinsley a brand-new one.
But I know she’d hate that.
I force a steady breath. This isn’t about me flexing my wallet. Tinsley wants control. She wants to make her own decisions.
So, I tap out a reply to Rick
Me
Don’t do anything yet. I’ll get back to you.
It goes against all my instincts, but I know it’s the right way to handle this.
I grab my phone and dial her number before I have a chance to second-guess myself. It rings once, twice. She answers by the third ring, voice low and professional. “Hello, Hudson.”
My heart nearly pounds out of my chest when she finally uses my name. Her smoky voice causes my cock to twitch. Jesus. I’m in deep.
“Hey, Tinsley. I got an update on your car.” I force my tone casual, but my fingers are gripping the phone hard enough to snap it in half. “Mechanic says it’s bad. The estimate was around five thousand, which is more than it’s worth. Didn’t want to make the call for you.”
Silence. Not the normal, polite kind. I can practically hear her thinking. That stubborn brain weighing every angle, looking for an escape route. It makes my blood heat.
She finally breathes out, her voice a little shaky, “I need to think about how to handle this.”
I bite back the urge to fix this for her. “Take your time.” My jaw clenches so tight I might crack a molar. “The garage will hold on to it as long as you want. No pressure.”
Another long pause, then she mutters, “Thank you.”
I clear my throat. “Do you need a lift to work tomorrow, or are you gonna try hitchhiking down Main?”
Her laugh is little more than a huff. “Thanks for offering, but I don’t need a ride. I’ll handle it.”
I want to argue. I want to insist. But I bite back the urge, knowing I have to play my cards right if I want to win her heart. “Alright, Tinsley. Let me know what you decide.”
“Will do,” she tells me and hangs up. Fucking hell. Winning her heart is going to give me a goddamn heart attack.