Tequila Burn (The Tequila Duet Book 2)

by Melissa Toppen

  When I’m done I scan through over twenty pictures, picking out the two best ones before texting them to Hudson. My heart pounds out of my chest the instant I hit send.

  Less than a minute later, I’ve lost the nightie right as my phone rings. I glance at the screen, smiling when I see Hudson is Facetiming me.

  “Did you like your pictures?” I grin at his handsome face.

  “What do you think?” He gives me a knowing look. “I’m going to have an instant hard on every time I even think about those pictures being on my phone.”

  His words make me squirm and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m moving the phone down so he can see the nightie is gone.

  “What about this?” I ask, lying backward to give him a better view.

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Not trying to kill you.” I slide my hand between my breasts, the phone trained on that area. “Just trying to make sure you remember what you get to come home to.”

  “Like I could ever fucking forget.” He swallows hard when I move the phone back up to my face.

  “I think we should have a little fun, Mr. Demasi.” I give him a wicked smile.

  “What did you have in mind?” His eyelids grow heavier by the second and I can tell he’s just as desperate for my touch as I am for his.

  “I can think of a few things.” I smile before angling the phone down my body so Hudson is able to see my hand the second it slips in between my thighs.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” I chant to myself as Hudson heads through the airport toward me.

  He’s rocking holey jeans, a faded blue t-shirt, and a baseball cap pulled low over his face. His black duffle is slung over his shoulder. He looks so damn hot I swear I’m seconds away from melting into a puddle right here.

  There’s a photographer locked in on him, snapping pictures from his right, angling his camera this way and that way, trying to get the best shot. I don’t know if he’s paparazzi or simply a fan with a really nice camera, but Hudson seems completely unphased by the attention he’s drawing. And not just from the photographer either. I watch not once, but twice, as a passerby turns and does a double take, eyes wide like they can’t believe what they’re seeing.

  I wish I could say I’m unphased as well. That seeing people stop in their tracks at the sight of Hudson has zero impact on me, but that’s not the truth. Pride swells in my chest but that’s not the only emotion I feel. Threatened, insecure, unsure of how I fit into all of this are definitely among some of the emotions that wash over me.

  When Hudson finally catches sight of me, a wide smile breaks across his face seconds before he jogs toward me. My heart is already beating a million miles a minute, but when he tugs me into his arms and lifts me right off my feet, I swear it pounds right out of my chest.

  “God I missed you.” He squeezes me tightly, our mouths colliding together seconds later. Neither of us is the least bit concerned about the show we’re putting on for everyone in the airport.

  Hudson kisses me with reckless abandon; his mouth just as desperate for mine as mine is for him. It’s like he’s the air and I’m breathing again for the first time in weeks.

  After longer than is probably acceptable in a public venue, Hudson’s tongue does one more long sweep inside my mouth before he pulls back and lowers me to my feet.

  “I just need to look at you,” he says, stepping back as his eyes travel from the top of my head all the way to my boot covered feet and then back up again.

  “I can’t believe you’re finally here.” I’m on the verge of tears just looking at him. I knew I missed him. I just don’t think I realized how much until this very moment.

  “Believe it, baby. For the next eleven days I am all yours.”

  “Eleven days,” I practically squeal, thinking I was only going to have five with him. “I thought you had to leave before New Year’s?”

  “I do.” He smiles at my confused expression.

  “Explain.”

  “I’m performing in L.A. on New Year’s Eve. Thought maybe you could come with me.”

  “To Los Angeles?” I question.

  “Why not.” He shrugs, dropping an arm over my shoulder as he leads me from the airport.

  “How long would we be there?”

  “We would fly out on the thirtieth and be back on the first, then I head back out on the road on the third.”

  “You sure you want me to come with you? You’ll be working,” I point out, leading Hudson to my car that’s parked in the back of the lot.

  “Of course I do.” He tosses his duffel in the trunk seconds after I pop it open. “I’m only performing two songs, Len. The rest of the time I’ll be pretty much free and bored as hell if you don’t come.”

  “I’ve never been to L.A. before,” I say, already knowing I couldn’t imagine missing it, but trying to play it off like I’m still considering it.

  “Then say yes.” He smiles, slamming the trunk closed before turning and pulling me to him. “I want every minute with you I can get.”

  “Well when you say it like that.” I smile into his chest at the same time that he drops a kiss to the top of my head.

  “Good. Then it’s settled.” He pulls back, his gaze going to the car. “Where’s the Chevy?”

  “One, I came straight from work and I don’t drive your car to work. I’m afraid one of the work trucks will end up dinging it. Two, it’s cold and my car has better heat.”

  “This isn’t cold.” He chuckles, gesturing around us. “It’s like sixty degrees here. You should’ve felt it in Michigan. It was like twenty degrees there last week and snowing.”

  “Twenty degrees.” I gape at him, pretty sure I wouldn’t survive a day that far north. As it is I’m walking around in a jacket and boots.

  “It’s cold,” he confirms, holding his hand out. I roll my eyes before dropping the keys into his hand. I don’t know what it is with him and insisting on driving.

  “You’re going to give me a complex about my driving,” I tell him, crossing toward the passenger side of the car before climbing in.

  “You’re actually a pretty good driver,” he tells me, sliding into the seat next to me. “I just prefer to drive.”

  “Such a man.” I shake my head at him.

  “Glad you noticed.” He laughs, firing the engine to life.

  —-

  “It feels so good having you here.” I snuggle into Hudson’s side, draping my leg over his waist.

  “It feels good being here.” He kisses the top of my head. “You know, it’s strange. I was only here a few days before I left, yet coming back here I immediately feel at home.”

  “Because you are home.”

  “You’re right, I am. Because you, Lennon Claire, you are my home.”

  I snuggle deeper into his embrace, feeling like I can’t get close enough.

  “I love you,” I murmur, my fingers sliding gently back and forth across his bare chest.

  “I love you too.”

  No matter how many times we say it to each other I don’t think I will ever get used to hearing those words come out of Hudson’s mouth. It’s so crazy to think that someone like him – someone so successful and talented and unbelievably good looking – could actually be with someone like me, let alone love me.

  “I have something for you,” he says, causing me to roll to my back as he shifts beneath me.

  “What is it?” I ask, watching his bare ass as he crosses the room and grabs his boxers off the floor. He slides them on seconds before he starts rummaging in his duffle bag in the middle of the floor.

  “Let’s call it an early Christmas present to both of us,” he says, returning to the bed with a large brown envelope in his hand. “Here.” He waits until I’m upright before extending it to me.

  More than a little curious, I quickly peel open the flap and pull out a stack of papers, all held together by a large clip.

 
“What is this?” I ask, my eyes scanning the top piece of paper. It isn’t until my eyes land on the name Stephanie that it all starts to click into place. “Are these...”

  “Divorce papers,” he confirms. “Official as of last Thursday.”

  “Wow,” I say, feeling a little winded.

  Having his prior marriage finalized and knowing we can officially put the whole thing behind us is something I didn’t realize I needed until this very moment.

  “I wanted to tell you the instant I got them but I thought it was better if I delivered the news in person.”

  “So it’s over?” I ask, not really referring to him and Steph but more the situation in general.

  “It’s over,” he confirms, taking the papers from me before tossing them onto the night stand. “It’s just me and you now, Lennon. Steph is gone. Gage is gone. There’s nothing standing in our way anymore.”

  “I’m glad you waited to tell me.”

  “Yeah. Why’s that?” He grins, his dimple momentarily distracting me.

  “Because if you had told me over the phone I couldn’t have done this,” I say, instantly twisting to straddle his lap.

  “I think I like where this is going.” He smiles against my mouth when I lean in and kiss him.

  “Good. Because I’m just getting started.” Moving my hips in a circular motion, I grind down onto his already growing erection.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Oh Hudson, you didn’t have to do this.” My mom stares at the pamphlet in her hand. “A full day at the spa. That’s just too much.”

  “It’s from me and Lennon both,” he corrects her, even though he refused to let me help pay for any of it. “And we wanted to.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” She looks to my father for support but he simply smiles at his wife and takes a drink of his eggnog.

  “Say thank you and move on mom.” Starr sighs, throwing daggers at Mark when he nudges her knee and gives her a slight shake of his head.

  God I love that man. He’s the only person I know who can get onto Starr for having zero filter and live to tell the tale.

  “Thank you, of course. This is amazing.” My mom’s gaze jumps from me to Hudson and then back to me. There’s something in her expression I can’t quite read.

  “Well, that was the last one,” my father says like he couldn’t be more relieved. “I’m going to grab me a refill.” He holds up his empty glass that has hand painted ornaments all over it.

  It’s one of the glasses Starr and I decorated an eternity ago when Nana took us to a pottery place. My parents have used them every Christmas since, even though they are the ugliest glasses in the history of glasses.

  “I need to get the pies ready.” My mom stands, quickly following him from the room.

  “I just don’t understand this.” Nana’s voice pulls my attention to the other side of the room. I can’t help but smile as I watch her squint and poke the screen of her new tablet like the thing is going to jump out and bite her at any moment.

  Why Starr thought it was a good idea to give our grandmother, who’s never used any kind of smart device in her life, a tablet for Christmas is beyond me.

  “Here Nana, I’ll help.” Starr stands from her spot on the couch before turning and plopping down on the arm of Nana’s chair.

  “I think I love that woman,” Hudson speaks so only I can hear. I turn to see a wide smile on his face, directed toward my grandma.

  “She’s easy to love,” I agree.

  “You remind me a lot of her.”

  “I do?” I turn my gaze back to my nana.

  “Well, you’re both spitfires for one.” He chuckles. Before I can respond he continues, “But it’s not just that. She’s loving yet tough when she needs to be. Just like you. You’re both funny as hell but still know when to be serious. And you both have next to no patience.” He laughs when Nana pushes the tablet at Starr and announces she doesn’t want it.

  I guess I had never realized it, but he’s kinda right. When I think about it, I really am a lot like my nana. I always thought I’m kind of like my mom, but she’s a bit more reserved than I’ve ever been.

  “You know what?” I say, turning my head so that our faces are only inches apart. “I don’t mind that one bit. My nana is the best.”

  “I will agree with you there.” He grins.

  “Lennon, will you help me for a second?” My mom appears in the doorway, breaking my focus from Hudson.

  “Yeah, of course.” I nod, turning back to Hudson. “I’ll be right back.” Stealing a quick kiss, I stand and follow my mother into the kitchen. “Want me to set out the dessert plates?” I ask, seeing that my mother already has three pies and a plate of cookies lined across the island.

  This is our tradition. We have a huge meal followed by presents and eggnog. Once everyone’s dinner has had a chance to settle, we rejoin the table for dessert.

  “I think I’m going to have everyone just help themselves and eat in the living room,” she says, shaking her head when I hit her with wide eyes.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my mother?” I gape at her playfully, knowing Elise Claire never voluntarily allows anyone to eat away from the dining room table.

  She’s all about family time and believes you can’t have a real conversation if you’re all scattered around, watching television or messing on your phones. As much as I hated it as a child, I tend to agree with her now.

  “Things are different this year. Starr has Mark here. You have Hudson. I think it might be nice for everyone to feel more comfortable.”

  I don’t bother reminding her that Mark was here last year, or that Gage was here too for that matter. So much has changed over the course of the last year. Sometimes it’s almost hard to keep up.

  “I’ll repeat, who are you and what have you done with my mother?”

  “Oh don’t you give me that.” She swipes her hand through the air at me.

  “Well if you don’t need my help setting the table and you already have the desserts set out, what exactly do you need my help with?”

  “I was hoping we could talk for a minute.” She leans against the counter, glass of eggnog in her hand, and instantly my stomach knots. When my mom says she wants to talk about something, it’s never about something good.

  “Okay,” I draw out, waiting for her to continue.

  “How are you?” she asks, confusing the hell out of me.

  “How am I?” I repeat.

  “Yeah. I know you’re having a rough time with Hudson being away. Or well, that’s what you’re sister tells me. You don’t actually tell me anything.”

  “Mom.”

  “It’s fine. I get it. I didn’t tell my mother anything either.” She dismisses with a flick of her hand.

  “What’s this really about, Mom?” I ask, not really up for skating around whatever it is she needs to say.

  “You love him.”

  “You know I do.”

  “I can see how happy he makes you.”

  “Good, because he really does,” I say, my confusion growing.

  “But as your mother,” she starts and I instantly brace for what’s going to come next. “I feel like I have to at least speak my peace.”

  “And that would be what?”

  “You’re a very trusting person, Lennon. You always have been. You’ve been able to see the best in people even when they don’t deserve it. It’s a great quality to have most of the time, but not so much in relationships. I’m worried that things are moving a little too quickly. That you don’t really know everything there is to know about Hudson. He seems amazing, honey, truly he does. But I’m worried you’re blinded by his fame and good looks and you’re not seeing the bigger picture.”

  “Which is what exactly?” I snip, irritation clear in my voice. Leave it to Elise Claire to rain on my Christmas parade.

  “That he’s a famous musician, sweetie. That he’s been gone for weeks and will be gone for many more. That you ha
ve no idea what he’s really doing while he’s on the road.”

  “Why are you bringing this up right now?” I ask, feeling like something had to have spurred this on for her to lay it on me at our Christmas celebration.

  “Jackie called me this morning. Said she saw something in a magazine. A picture of Hudson and some female singer having dinner together.”

  “Jackie called you?” I question, not sure why my mother’s oldest friend would be calling her about Hudson.

  “She knows you’re dating him. It’s all any of our friends can talk about. And you know how much Jackie loves those celebrity magazines. She’s always buying them in the checkout lines at the store. Anyway, she was browsing her latest magazine when she came across a page that was collaged with several famous couples out doing normal everyday things. In the bottom right corner was a picture of Hudson and I think her name is Annalise or something.”

  “Annabelle,” I correct her.

  “Right, he was out with her. I haven’t seen the photograph myself, but I trust Jackie when she says they looked awfully cozy together.”

  “Mom, they’re touring together. It’s not unheard of for friends or colleagues to share a meal,” I point out even though my mind is already swirling with fear.

  Hudson hasn’t mentioned going anywhere with Annabelle just the two of them, and I’d be lying if I said the thought of them together doesn’t make me sick to my stomach.

  “Of course I know that, honey. But I felt the need to let you know. You know, so you can keep an eye on the situation. I don’t want to see you end up hurt again.”

  “Hudson isn’t Gage, Mom,” I grind out, not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself.

  I mean, he’s lied to me already about something pretty significant, and if what Jackie said is true, he’s not telling me everything either.

  He doesn’t have to give you a play by play of everything he does, Lennon. My mind is trying to reason with me, but I’m not sure if it’s working.

  “I know he’s not, Lenny. And it’s clear to see he cares a great deal for you. I just worry. Here you are, living in a house that he bought, looking at him like he hung the stars and moon. Always touching him like he’s the one tethering you to the earth. It’s intense and it’s all happened pretty fast.”