by Brenda Novak
She took a deep breath. He had a point. What was the rush? She could simply pretend she was on a fancy vacation. “Okay.”
* * *
“Are you back?”
Lowering his voice, Hudson closed his bedroom door so there’d be no risk of Ellie overhearing his telephone conversation with Bruiser. “Yeah. Just got in.”
“Did you bring Dr. Ellie Fisher with you?”
“I did.”
“And? How do you feel?”
Hopeful, Hudson realized. He was looking forward to having Ellie around, which was unexpected. Thanks to his profession and the money he’d earned, he’d had to fend off so many women over the years, and yet she was the one who was always talking about putting more space between him. That made him feel safe. “Sort of...excited.”
“Did you say excited?”
“Something wrong with that?”
“No, it’s just...you were pretty upset when you called me from Miami. She’s still pregnant, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s still pregnant. I was drunk when I called you.”
“Exactly my point. You were so upset you were drinking yourself into oblivion.”
“Everything was new. I was working through the shock. But I’m feeling better.”
“You must like her.”
Hudson could hear the conjecture in his friend’s voice. “I do. She’s surprisingly easy to be around.” He enjoyed giving her a hard time, enjoyed how she laughed at his jokes or came back swinging when he riled her.
There was a long pause.
“Bruiser?”
“I’m still here.”
“What’re you thinking?”
“To be honest? I’m concerned.”
“Isn’t that my job?”
“It is, but now that you’re lowering your guard, I might have to step in. Are you sure she’s not setting you up?”
“For...”
“Marriage? If she can convince you she’s harmless, get you to trust her enough to marry her—to give the baby your name or whatever—she could get a lot more in the end.”
He thought of how often he’d had to talk her out of renting her own place. “I don’t think she’s trying to set me up. She seems satisfied with what we’ve arranged.”
“And what have you arranged?”
Hudson explained how they’d decided the rest of the pregnancy and the first six months of the baby’s life should go. He also told Bruiser what they were planning to say about their relationship and asked him to go along with it.
“I won’t give anything away. You want to say you’ve been dating for months? I’ll stand behind that. But she seems almost too good to be true. Are you positive she’s not trying to reel you in?”
“I’ve seen nothing to indicate that she’s any less than she appears to be.”
“Does she have any idea how much you’re worth?”
“Doesn’t seem to care. She’ll hardly let me buy her lunch.”
“Could that be an act? Hell, I try to get you to buy every meal.”
Hudson chuckled. It wasn’t true. Bruiser didn’t lean on anyone. “If it’s an act, it’s a damn good one.”
“That’s it,” Bruiser said. “I’m coming out there.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning. Better if I get out in front of this thing, just in case.”
“What about Jacqueline and Brianne? Are you bringing them?”
“No, Brianne will hate the long ride in her car seat, and Jacqueline’s got a fund-raiser for the local hospital.”
“She won’t mind if you leave?”
“Not for one day. She’ll understand that I need to meet Ellie, get a feel for her.”
Maybe Bruiser would see something Hudson had missed. “If that’s what you want to do, we’ll be here.”
“I’ll leave first thing,” he said, but as soon as Hudson hung up, another call came through—from the private detective he’d hired to find out who’d abandoned him the day he was born. Usually the guy sent an email update. A call was unusual, especially after business hours.
Hudson checked his watch. It was nine, so not terribly late considering the guy lived in LA—meaning they were in the same time zone. Still, nine was late enough. Seeing that name come up on caller ID sent chills down Hudson’s spine. Something had changed; he could feel it.
His heart began to pound even before he could answer.
Once the PI ascertained that he had the right person, he said, “I’ve found a lead that might give us the answers you’re looking for.”
Would he learn who’d abandoned him at last? “How?”
“Digging. Doing my job.”
“And this is hopeful?”
“It’s not 100 percent, but it seems legit. Only problem is...”
The reservation in his voice made it difficult for Hudson to breathe. “Go on...”
“You need to ask yourself if you really want to pursue this.”
Hudson’s trepidation grew worse. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s not something I’d ever want getting out about me—and I’m not famous.”
* * *
When Ellie woke, she was a little disoriented. She still had her clothes on. The lights were on, too, and she was sleeping in a giant bed she didn’t recognize...
Then it all came back to her, and she realized she must’ve fallen asleep after unpacking—and slept for several hours.
She got up to retrieve her purse so she could find her phone. It was nearly two in the morning. What was Hudson doing? She would’ve guessed he was sleeping, like most other people so late at night, except she heard the steady thump of bass coming through a set of speakers somewhere below. Was he in the living room, watching TV? The kitchen, listening to music while he made a midnight snack? She doubted she’d hear anything if he was all the way in the basement.
What was he doing up so late?
After brushing her hair and putting it back up, she changed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, washed her face, brushed her teeth and left her room to see what was going on. She hadn’t meant to go to sleep when she lay down. She’d meant only to rest her eyes.
Had he come up to see if she wanted dinner? Or had he eaten without her?
She felt...left out, which was ridiculous. It was possible that he’d checked on her and she didn’t know it. He didn’t have to include her, anyway. She was the one who’d made such a point of telling him they’d act like regular roommates—the kind who lived entirely separate lives. Maybe he figured that should start immediately.
He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. She found him in the game room, drinking and shooting pool. The music was so loud he didn’t hear her approach, which gave her a moment to observe him undetected.
He was barefoot, wearing worn jeans and a cotton T-shirt that stretched nicely across his broad shoulders. But he looked tired, upset. What was going on? Why wasn’t he in bed?
The power with which he sent the white ball crashing into a solid blue ball told her he was upset. Swearing under his breath when he missed the pocket he’d been aiming for, he turned to take another drink of whatever he had in his glass—brandy?—and saw her.
“What are you doing up?” he asked.
“I’m more surprised I went to sleep in the first place. I wasn’t planning on it. I just...dropped off.”
“You needed the rest. That flu took a lot out of you.”
“I guess so.”
He stood there staring at her for a few seconds. She got the impression he wanted to say more—especially when his eyes moved over her—but he didn’t. He went back to his game.
“You okay?” she asked.
No answer. He sank two stripes—one in a side pocket and th
e other in a corner.
“Hudson?” Was this going to be where she learned he had an anger problem—that he was a mean drunk or insufferably moody? She was afraid she might discover something like that. The Hudson she’d seen since he’d come to Miami was totally normal, real, even kind. She’d forgiven him for punching the wall in the motel when she told him about the baby, but she hadn’t forgotten it, especially now that she’d quit her job and they were back on his home turf...
Would that frightening Hudson reappear? Send her scrambling to buy a plane ticket home?
“I’m fine,” he said.
She deliberated whether she should take him at his word and leave him to his music, alcohol and pool playing. He was obviously trying to cope with something the best way he knew how. But he didn’t seem fine; he seemed troubled.
She ventured closer. “Have you had any dinner?”
“Not yet.”
He had to be hungry. She was. They’d eaten lunch twelve hours ago. “Why don’t I make us something?” He didn’t seem to be drunk—he wasn’t slurring his words, wasn’t uncoordinated in his movements—but he was heading in that direction. She figured it couldn’t hurt to get some food inside him.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said dismissively, but as soon as she’d eaten a quick bite, she made him a plate of bacon, eggs and toast and took it to the game room.
“Here you go,” she said, as if he’d indicated that he did want to eat.
To her surprise, he accepted the food and sat down at a nearby table.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked.
“It’s nothing,” he replied.
“I can tell it’s something. Are you having trouble adjusting to the idea of having a child? Or is it that you’ve had second thoughts about bringing me out here? I could leave...”
He stared at her as if none of that had crossed his mind. “No. I don’t want you to go. What I’m feeling has nothing to do with you or the baby.” He studied her for a few seconds before speaking again. “But if you’re really concerned, you could be the remedy.”
“The remedy?” she repeated.
“A temporary fix, for sure. You can’t change reality. No one can. But touching you, I’d like that. It would be so much better than feeling—” he waved his fork for emphasis “—what I’m feeling now.”
He wanted sex. He’d made it clear he wasn’t satisfied with her stance on that issue. She had, however, believed they’d get past her first night in California before it came up again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, what you’re feeling now,” she said, hoping to draw the information out of him.
“It’s nothing I’m willing to share, nothing I’d ever want anyone to know.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s dark and ugly, and I wish I didn’t know, either.”
“Does this have to do with football?”
“No.”
“Your childhood, then?”
“Yes.” His past was such common knowledge, he didn’t seem surprised by her guess.
“Sometimes it helps to talk.”
He set his plate aside. “I don’t want to talk. I want to take you to bed, Ellie.”
He was too beleaguered—and he’d had too much to drink—to be anything other than transparent. She got that, but she didn’t find his candid responses as off-putting as she wished she did. His honest appeal tempted her to ease his pain, help him feel better, be there for him. “We’ve talked about this—”
“Can’t we make an exception?” he broke in. “Just for tonight? Because I never voted for no sex. My plan was the opposite, remember?”
“I remember, but you have to agree that abstaining would be for the best.”
“When’s the last time you were with someone?”
She rubbed her palms on her sweats. “In September,” she said, suddenly feeling every one of the days between then and now.
“See? It’s been that long for me, too. Don’t you want a man? Don’t you miss being held, caressed, kissed?”
She did miss that, especially by him. But she’d just landed in California. She needed to acclimate, adjust, get to know Hudson better before making such a big decision. “I’m trying to be smart...”
“Forget smart. Be greedy.”
She would’ve laughed—except he was serious. “Greedy?”
“I must have something I could give you in return—for taking the risk.”
“I’m not asking for anything...”
“That’s just it! Most other people want something from me. Why don’t you?”
“They’re excited about meeting someone who’s famous, I guess. Or they’re trying to use you. I’m not.”
“At least with them I have some leverage.”
“Come on, you hate that.”
He wasn’t really listening, didn’t respond to her comment. He was still talking as if she’d never interrupted him. “I can promise other people autographed sports paraphernalia, tickets to a big game, even money. But I don’t seem to have anything you care about. You won’t accept my gifts.”
“I’ve been wearing the necklace you gave me ever since I opened it.”
“You won’t let me buy anything else, won’t take more money than you absolutely need. You don’t give a shit about knowing someone who’s famous—or plays pro ball. You don’t even want to stay in this house.”
She wasn’t nearly as ambivalent as he seemed to think. “Only because I’m not accustomed to such wealth. I can’t let myself get used to living like this. I don’t want to feel dissatisfied when I return to my small home and ten-year-old car.”
“You’re having my baby,” he said. “No matter what happens, you’ll never completely go back to your former life.”
She supposed that was true. She’d always be connected to him—and he’d always be who he was. Even when he stopped playing, he’d probably become a Hall of Famer.
“We’ve made love before,” he said, still trying to entice her.
Drawing a shaky breath, she walked over to collect his plate. “I remember.” All too well...
“I thought it was good,” he said, looking up at her. “I thought you liked it, too.”
“I did.” She picked up the plate, but he caught her wrist.
“Then don’t reject me.”
The warmth from his hand flowed up her arm. “I’m not rejecting you. That’s a harsh word.”
“You’re saying no. It’s the same thing.” He took the plate and set it aside, then pulled one of her fingers into his mouth.
“Hudson—”
“I’ll give you a massage every day for a week,” he promised.
“We can’t do this.”
“Yes, we can. Let me feel you, let me bury myself inside you.”
“You must be a little drunk.”
“So? Sex isn’t anything new for us. I wanted you before. I made that clear.”
He took her finger back into his mouth, and the way he sucked on it made her nipples tighten and tingle. She told herself to move away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t even look away. “This is a bad idea,” she said, but she could hear the breathless quality of her own voice, knew he’d heard it, too.
“No, it’s not.” He spoke so low, his words were barely audible. “I’ll always be good to you. I promise. I would never mistreat you—or the baby. I’m excited about the baby.”
She ran her thumb over his bottom lip. He never allowed himself to be this transparent when he was sober...
“You’re thinking about it...”
“I shouldn’t be.”
He kissed the inside of her arm. “That means you’re tempted.”
She watched with bated breath as his lips moved higher, toward her elbow,
which wasn’t that far from her breast. “I am,” she admitted. “You’re not an easy person to resist.”
“Thank God. Take off your clothes. Let me see you. I never got to see you in September.” The hopeful, eager expression on his face was still overshadowed by whatever troubled him, and that made it impossible for her to refuse. She couldn’t leave him to endure whatever he was feeling alone.
He watched, rapt, as she pulled off her shirt. “There you go, sweet Ellie,” he said, pressing his lips to her bare stomach. “Our lives are already intertwined. And we both want this, don’t we?”
She’d be lying if she said no. She raised his chin to tell him so, but he took her breast in his mouth and she moaned instead.
When he’d touched and tasted all she’d exposed so far, she felt him undo the tie at her waist and slide her sweats and panties down past her hips.
With her clothes out of the way, he ran a hand over the slight swell of her stomach. “Hello, baby,” he murmured and lifted her onto the pool table.
“Are you sure you want to do it here?” she asked. “Under the light?”
“I’m going to do you here. I want to see you, watch everything.” Spreading her legs, he kissed a path up her thighs.
Ellie tried to stop him. She was too self-conscious, felt she needed to know him better before she could enjoy oral sex. But he wouldn’t let her refuse him.
“Relax,” he said.
“I don’t think I can relax,” she said. “This is... This is pretty intimate—about the most intimate thing I can imagine letting someone do.”
“It’s also something I doubt your gay ex-fiancé was excited about doing—not very often, anyway.”
“Never,” she admitted.
“Great. Then it’s something I can do that might make you glad you said yes.”
“There are other ways to—”
“I want to do this,” he said, and once his mouth reached its target, she nearly jumped off the table.
“Holy shit,” she gasped.
His tongue moved against her. “I’m assuming that’s a good ‘holy shit.’”
“Better than you could ever dream. I’ve definitely been missing out.”
