Chapter 12
12
HUDSON
Bridgeport was a charming little town, big enough for its own tiny movie theatre while still small enough to host an assortment of Mom and Pop shops, and we spent the afternoon strolling down the sidewalk aimlessly. My fingers were intertwined with Claire’s, and I had a growing sense of normalcy, as if this were a real date. More alarmingly, it was a date I’d do again, and definitely with Claire. I’d known she was beautiful the moment I met her, even before she’d taken off her mask, but it was surprising to realize how very much I liked being around her. On the streets of Bridgeport, there was no reason to hold hands, no one to fool, and yet all I could think about was the way her palm pressed against mine, smooth and dry, and how much I wanted to kiss her again.
“Hud?” she asked as we approached the car. Since she’d first used the nickname in front of Grant, she’d tried it out a few times in private, and each time she said it, I liked it more. “Would you mind driving back?” She held out the keys and I took them from her open palm. “I promise to give you the wrong directions and send us past the house and away from my crazy family,” she joked, and I immediately had to quash the fantasy of driving her in the opposite direction completely, landing us in some fancy hotel where I could kiss her as slowly and thoroughly as I wanted and no one would come barging through the door to interrupt.
At the car, her grip loosened, preparing to split away from me and head to the passenger seat, but I held on to her hand. The gesture snapped her back toward me and I settled a hand on her hip, leaning her against the car. My hips were now precariously close to hers, and I canted back, making sure I kept a polite distance, even as the urge to press forward surged in my chest.
I tipped my face down to talk seriously, and she looked up. This close, the brightness of her green eyes was revealed as a pattern of white whirls amidst the green, not unlike the clearest ocean waters. “You don’t have to keep apologizing for your family,” I whispered, wanting to put her at ease but not knowing how to possibly tell this woman she was worth the effort—not without sounding like a bad pickup line, at least. I dipped a little lower, closing the distance between us, my eyes darting down to her pink lips, which parted under my scrutiny. “I’ve spent hours with you, Claire—a virtual stranger—and I would do it again in an instant.” My gaze followed the curve of her lips over her gently rounded cheek and to her eyes once more. “You’re dangerously likable, Claire.”
I wasn’t prepared for Claire to close the remaining centimeters and kiss me, but I didn’t hesitate when she did. My fingers tightened on her waist, pulling her closer, letting the distance I’d so carefully cultivated evaporate.
She instigated the kiss, but I deepened it, my tongue running over the seam of her lips and then into her mouth as those lips parted. I’d kissed countless women in my lifetime, but the way Claire’s body went soft in my arms while her mouth was hard and needy made me want her with a desperate urgency. Something about this girl charmed me in a way I’d never expected and couldn’t explain. “On second thought, maybe I want the wrong directions,” I growled, but Claire laughed.
“‘Fraid not.”
I tipped my face forward, letting our foreheads touch. The moment reminded me of the elevator, and I risked being corny to say what was on my mind once again. “Christ, you’re beautiful,” I said, just as I had that night.
I expected the line to garner me a smile, but instead Claire moaned quietly, her mouth finding mine fervently.
“Can I help you, Juliet?” I asked, crossing into the kitchen where Claire’s mother was beginning to prepare dinner. Claire had been going over wedding details with her sister for over an hour, and while I’d spent most of the time in our room secretly hoping she might show up and want to jump into bed for a midday quickie, after a while I had to admit that Claire did not seem like a quickie kind of person. She seemed like the kind of person who read articles about how to be more spontaneous in bed.
Finally growing bored, I’d wandered downstairs in hopes of finding a neutral space to relax—perhaps with Claire’s father watching golf—but instead I had found Juliet.
“I’m fine, thank you, Hudson. You can head out back. Charles is warming up the grill.” I’d met Claire’s father briefly when we arrived and he’d been watching golf stretched out on a recliner. Unlike Claire’s mother, who was frosty as hell, Charles Davis was friendly, open, quick to laugh, and it’d been easy to amuse him with baseball talk until Claire had excused us to head upstairs.
“Can I help you, Charles?” I offered as I made my way out the back of the house and down to a deck which was built into a natural incline in the backyard, giving it an interesting topography. I had half a mind to take a picture of the space to send to my dad, who was always eager for ideas he could use while flipping homes.
Charles was fairer than Claire, a sandy brown compared to her darker hazelnut color, but they shared the same bright green eyes and wide smile. That smile was aimed at me as I walked down the steps of the deck, and he held out a beer when I was close enough. “I spent thirty years convincing Juliet I needed a long time to get the grill ready, but really I just needed a little time to myself.” He chuckled. “She probably knows I’m full of it, but now that the girls aren’t running around screaming and fighting, she indulges me.”
I imagined that was true. Juliet seemed far too shrewd to be unaware of his ruse. “Did your daughters fight a lot when they were young?” I asked, trying to picture a young Claire bickering with her sisters. I’d seen some pictures of her, much younger, hanging in the walls inside, but my mind failed to adequately bring them to life. Thin as she was, she’d gone through an awkward period in her youth when she was all teeth and angles, and I imagined she was quiet and bookish, probably unaware that by the time she was in college she’d become beautiful in a way that drew people’s attention.
Charles continued, drawing my attention back to him. “Emily was always mad that one of the younger three was in her stuff, but Nora and Tessa were probably the worst of the four when it came to fighting. We were lucky Claire didn’t get into many fights. When one of her sisters made her mad, she just stormed off and locked herself up in her room.”
I smiled wryly. Though I’d never say so to Claire, I imagined her tendency to stay quiet and keep the peace was part of what made her an easier target for her mother’s matchmaking.
“You have siblings?” Charles asked.
It was a question I’d never stop hating. People asked it so flippantly, unaware that the simple words sliced through me every time. “I do,” I said vaguely, not looking to elaborate. Charles didn’t immediately respond, though, so I added, “I’m very close with my sister, but she was always into my things when she was young. We fought a lot.”
“This grill was my quiet place,” Charles explained. “I would sit out here on the deck for hours.”
My brow twitched up, but I hurried to smooth my features. It wasn’t my place to tell Claire’s dad he didn't sound present in his daughters’ lives. “This deck,” I said instead, eager to change the subject, “is amazing.”
“I built it myself,” Charles said, beaming.
“Not completely by yourself.”
I turned to look at the owner of this voice, already knowing who I would find.
“That’s true. Your dad helped quite a bit,” Charles admitted as he stood to shake Grant’s hand.
“Good to see you again,” Grant said, this time to me as he held out his hand once more. Far as I was concerned, seeing Grant was the low point of the day, but since Grant was the reason I was here with Claire in the first place, I supposed I shouldn't complain. I stood enough to shake, giving Grant a polite nod hello, then sat again.
Grant perched on the arm of the Adirondack next to Claire’s father. “My dad built this with Charles. I remember being a kid and running around trying to help.” His chin tilted down at me, perched higher as he was, and his eyes narrowed as he asked, “You like to build things, Hudson?”
I’d sized Grant up the first time I met him. The man was roughly two inches taller than me, but wasn’t nearly as filled out. There was no doubt that, if push ever came to shove, I could take him. Not that I anticipated a fist fight with Grant Dupree, and I was certain Claire would be horrified by the very idea, but it was best to be certain.
For that reason, I wouldn’t even consider hitting the man, which was lucky for Grant as he tried to put on this little show of male dominance. “My father’s a contractor, and I worked alongside him through my teens and into my twenties,” I replied.
“Oh,” Grant said, sitting up straight again, surprise written on all of his features. For a moment he seemed flustered, and there was quiet as Grant floundered, trying to come up with some new method for emasculating me. Not that I intended to let the prick, but either way, I was saved by the opening of the sliding door.
“There you are,” Claire said with a smile. “Am I interrupting grill time?” Her oversized eye roll left no doubt she was well aware her father was escaping more than grilling.
Grant popped up onto his feet as Claire got close, offering a nearby chair with a quick gesture that looked almost like a bow.
I was pleased to see Claire looked no more impressed with his theatrics than I was, and I reached out as she walked by, capturing her hand with a little tug that sent her falling into my lap with a laugh. “You’re not interrupting,” I said, squeezing the hand I still held.
Claire smiled and leaned back into my chest, allowing me to wrap both arms around her waist. I’d agreed to a half-as-much-touching rule on the drive up here, but I’d failed to mention just how much I wanted to touch her. Half as much was still a tremendous amount. Claire was addictive. My hands were going to need a twelve-step program.
“Dad, I was actually coming out here for you,” Claire said, settling further into my arms. “Mom wants you to come inside so she can explain something about the food—which burgers are which or something?”
“Oh, yes.” Charles nodded. “She got vegan ones for you. Are you a vegan, Hudson?”
“I’ll eat whatever. Don’t worry about me,” I said. Charles smiled approvingly and made his way back up the stairs of the deck. I expected Grant to stay and force us into boring conversation, since he seemed to want to be wherever Claire was, but he followed Charles instead, leaving Claire and me alone for a few blissful minutes.
“I’ll come with you and check in with Juliet,” Grant said as he climbed the stairs just behind Charles.
Greedily, I tucked my face between Claire’s chin and shoulder, kissing her neck softly. “Maybe he’s got the hots for your mom, too,” I joked.
“Eew,” she said with a giggle, slapping my bare arm where it lay slung across her waist. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the left, giving me better access, and I ran my nose along her skin.
“Looks like we’re alone,” I said.
All subtlety gone, Claire tilted her head fully, giving me unobstructed access to her smooth skin. I let my lips drag along the flesh, from her neck up to the tender spot behind her ear, which was marvelously smooth and soft.
Her voice came out breathy and strained when she spoke. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in twenty-seven years, it’s that there is no alone in this house.”
It’d been less than a day and I already knew that to be true, but that didn’t stop me from kissing my way back down her neck to her collarbone. The moment my lips found the ridge of bone she twisted away, turning enough to find my lips with her own. Her kisses were hard and needy, and I settled a hand on her jaw to slow her down. Her family and Grant Dupree may’ve disappeared inside for a moment, but I was under no illusion we had privacy, and the heat of her mouth on mine had my control on a razor’s edge. Claire was addictive like a drug. The more I had her, the more I wanted her.
“Get a room!” Nora exclaimed, far too loud for the quiet backyard.
Claire pulled away so abruptly the motion made a little squelching sound that pinkened her cheeks. She shifted, and it was clear she intended to stand, but I tightened the arm I’d slung casually over her waist, banding her in. If she stood now, there would be no hiding my erection. “Give me a minute,” I said, the plea coming out a rough growl in her ear, and without a word she settled comfortably into my lap again, this time facing Nora as the younger woman walked down the stairs with a slender blond man who looked suspiciously like Grant. He had to be Ethan.
“Ethan, this is Claire’s mysterious new boyfriend, Hudson.” Ethan was walking down the steps with one hand outstretched, and it was instantly evident to both Claire and me that we’d need to stand. The sudden appearance of Claire’s family had gone a long way toward deflating my desire, but I was still visibly chubbed up.
Claire squeezed my thigh once, then put a hand on each of the armrests and slid forward in the chair. The move was agonizingly sexy, but it also gave me a moment’s privacy to adjust my dick before I stood up.
“Hudson North,” I said, standing and clasping the other man’s hand. Ethan Dupree was shorter and fairer than his brother, although he looked to be holding slightly more muscle than Grant. They shared the same blond hair and brown eyes, though.
“Pleasure to meet you. I was surprised to hear Claire had brought someone home.”
“You and everyone else,” Nora added, her sweet tone belying her words.
Claire smiled, unfazed, and I wrapped an arm around her waist. Claire had apologized for how her family was acting, which gave me some hope they weren’t always so dismissive of her opinions and choices, but how they were treating her today still made me bristle. She deserved way better.
“And I’m sure he appreciates the warm welcome,” Claire quipped. Nora rolled her eyes but said no more.
“Well, great to have you here,” Ethan said, grinning in a casual way that appeared far more genuine than his brother. I wasn’t sure if Ethan had a more effective artifice than Grant or if he was simply a more likable guy. Frankly, I didn’t care. I didn’t plan on developing a friendship with either Dupree brother.
Tessa wandered out behind Nora and Ethan, followed by her parents and Grant, and once again, the man was drawn to Claire like a bug to light. The arm I’d casually slung around her waist tightened as a surge of possessiveness overtook me. Claire probably thought it was all part of the ruse, but I wasn’t pretending as I watched Grant’s eyes laser in on her. She wasn’t mine, I knew it intellectually, but I couldn’t get the message to my hand where it held her tight and refused to let go.
Still, Grant crossed the distance to stand near us, his lips tilting up in a crooked smile as he made eye contact with Claire. I fought the urge to pull her even closer, worried my grip might hurt if it got any tighter. I understood better than most how magnetic Claire was, but I couldn’t have anticipated it would take this much work for Grant to take a hint. She’s taken, dammit. She’s mine . But Grant’s eyes never wavered from Claire’s to see the threat my gaze surely held by now, and, in that moment, I understood how Claire had felt desperate enough to invite a virtual stranger home with her.
“Nora and Claire, come on inside with me,” Juliet said as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Claire’s spine stiffened beneath my palm, but she said nothing.
“What for?” Nora asked.
“We had the idea to do a Newlywed Game!” Juliet exclaimed.
My stomach dropped in the same moment Claire’s eyes went wide in horror. “Aren’t newlywed games for…newlyweds?” she asked meekly.
Her mother shrugged. “Well, Ethan and Nora are about to be married and you and Hudson have been dating, so we thought it’d be perfect. Come on. We’ll go inside and I’ll ask you both the questions. Then we can play after dinner.” She widened her eyes meaningfully, and she seemed to be looking at only Claire when she said, “But no cheating.”
I watched helplessly as Claire walked inside. She was stiff and anxious looking, like an inmate walking to death row, and I couldn’t think of anything I could say or do to help. I sent a silent prayer for easy questions.
“You excited?” Grant asked, and though the question had been posed to both myself and Ethan, Grant’s eyes bored into mine. If the fucker was looking for fear, he wasn’t going to find it here. Pasting a shit-eating grin on my face that made him twitch, I ignored the question and turned to Ethan instead.
“Is Nora easygoing? Because this shit breaks up marriages, doesn’t it?” I asked.
Ethan waved a hand dismissively with a chuckle. “Nora’s a loose cannon, but this isn’t the crap she cares about. We’ll probably know nothing about each other.” He laughed once more, and I took solace in the knowledge that, if nothing else, Ethan wasn’t expecting to do well, either.
Claire came back about fifteen minutes later—fifteen minutes of forced chit chat with the Dupree brothers, during which time I never let Grant see even an iota of discomfort. Ethan had proven easier to talk to than Grant, but neither would be my first choice for a friend. “How’d it go?” I asked her, careful to ask something that wouldn’t be misconstrued as cheating. I knew without a shadow of a doubt if Claire's family thought we were cheating they’d double down on the push for her to date Grant instead of me.
“It was fine,” she said, smiling as she laced our fingers together and gave me a reassuring squeeze. I couldn’t imagine what had transpired to make her confident, but Claire was smart as hell, and I was willing to trust her.
“Let’s eat,” Charles suggested, nodding toward the table where burgers were now piled high. I followed Claire to our seats, our hands still entwined, and she gave me one more squeeze before she let go. I wasn’t sure exactly what those squeezes were supposed to mean, but each gave me a little bolt of pleasure.
I would not, under normal circumstances, cheat at a game. Occasionally Sammie had tried to cheat when we’d been kids, but Lawrence had no patience for it, and I looked up to Lawrence like a god when we were kids. Fortunately, I’d been graced with enough basic memory and athleticism to hold my own, and I usually didn’t care much about losing.
But today was different. The game tonight wasn’t about me, it was about Claire, and I was sure if Claire and I lost in dramatic fashion, her family would feel justified in the insane level of meddling they were engaged in. The idea pissed me off.
We weren’t going to get the chance to cheat, though, not only because Claire’s family appeared to be watching her every move at the table, but because Claire herself seemed wholly unperturbed. “This is delicious, Mom,” she said, eating some sort of broccoli salad.
“It’s all very good,” I agreed, sneaking another peek at my date from the corners of my eyes. She seemed genuinely engrossed in her broccoli salad and perfectly content. “Thank you all so much for having me up here.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Charles said, and I choked back a laugh. I was willing to bet Charles was out of the loop and was, indeed, happy I was dating his daughter.
Dinner continued awkwardly like that, and on any regular date I would’ve been excited for the meal to come to a close, but this was no ordinary meal. Things were only going to get worse when the eating ended. “Leave the leftovers,” Juliet said, waving a hand when Tessa and Claire began picking up dishes. “Let’s do the game first, while we still have light.”
Juliet dragged four of the chairs away from the table, set up in a row on one of the raised deck platforms. I thought I might vomit. Claire and I had spent hours over the past couple weeks talking, but those hours weren’t going to be able to compete with a couple who’d been together for years.
Still, Claire sat down in the chair, the faintest smile tilting her lips. I stole a kiss as I walked to my own seat, afraid she’d be so disappointed after this trouncing it may be my last. “No cheating,” Grant called out from the crowd in front of us, his voice holding just enough humor to make hitting the man unacceptable. Still wanted to, though.
It was another minute before Nora and Ethan were settled, then Juliet spoke. “I think everyone knows the rules. We asked the women to answer seven questions about themselves. The answers are on these cards.” Juliet paused to hand them out. “Keep them hidden,” she warned. “Now we will ask the men the same questions. Teams win a point for a matching answer.”
“What do we get if we win?” Nora asked.
“Bragging rights,” Juliet answered quickly.
And what do we get if we lose? I didn’t want to consider the answer.
“Before we begin, does anyone want to make this more interesting?” Grant asked. The men understood his meaning, but the women scowled at him in confusion. “I mean betting,” he clarified. “Anyone want to bet on a team?”
Tessa grimaced. “Who’s going to bet against Nora and Ethan?” she murmured.
“I will,” Grant said. “Anyone want to bet me?” My jaw ticked. Obviously Grant was making the gesture to impress Claire, the slimy little prick.
“I’ll take some action on that,” Charles said.
“Okay. Five good, Charles?” Grant asked. The older man nodded. “Anyone else? Tess?”
“Okay, I’ll bet five,” Tessa replied.
“Tessa!” Claire exclaimed.
“Claire,” she pleaded, gesturing between the two couples as if the math spoke for itself.
“Are we allowed to bet?” Nora asked.
“No,” Claire snapped. “Just ask the first question.”
“Okay,” Juliet said, standing straighter. “Question one: What is your lady’s favorite food?”
My pulse instantly skyrocketed. I knew Claire was a vegan, so that limited the choices to…about eighty-nine billion options. Shit.
“Ethan?” Juliet said, buying me a few seconds to think.
“Easy,” Ethan replied. “Chicken fingers.”
Nora squealed excitedly, throwing the card that said “chicken fingers” to one side.
I snorted quietly, and Claire, the only one who could hear it, shot me a small smile, her lips pursed like she was trying not to laugh. “Hudson, your turn,” Juliet said. “What is Claire’s favorite food?”
My brain had already run through every imaginable food option, and I was no closer to sure, so I decided on an umbrella answer that might score us a win by default. “Salad?” I offered.
I looked at Claire with wide eyes, my expression begging her to forgive my ignorance, and Claire’s lips curled into a gentle smile that squeezed my lungs just a little. “I do love salads,” she said, shifting through her cards until she found the right one.