Pact with a Heartbreaker: A Best Friends to Lovers Summer Romance (Havenbrook Book 3)

by Brighton Walsh

Momma gasped and smacked his head with the welcome letter. “Hudson Matthew. You haven’t told that poor girl yet? I hope you know Lilah’s little show has nothin’ on what that girl’s gonna do to you.”

  When Hudson came to a stop at the end of the long dirt road leading to his family’s cabin, Kenna waved to him. Goddammit. She was going to be a bear about this win, but even so, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. This was just one facet of many that he loved about her, and he wanted to get in as much of her as possible this weekend.

  Under the guise of gathering up his things, he studied her behind his sunglasses. She reclined in the hammock hanging between two giant oak trees, wearing nothing but a minuscule pair of cutoffs and a bikini top. The red one that tied between her breasts. It wasn’t overly revealing, having enough material to keep most of her chest relegated strictly to his imagination, but that particular top had played more than one role in his solo activities. From the first time he’d seen her wear it, he’d had to fight himself over the urge to reach out and just…untie it.

  “Snap out of it, asshole,” he muttered under his breath before stepping out of his truck.

  Kenna smiled smugly at him, and even though he knew what he was in for, he couldn’t stop the grin from sweeping over his mouth in return.

  “Took ya long enough.” She gestured to the grass off to the side, littered with a tackle box, two fishing rods, a bag with a couple towels spilling out, and a cooler probably filled with sandwiches and drinks for their day on the water. “Not only did I beat you, but I had time to grab all the fishing shit, too.”

  If he knew Kenna—and he knew her almost better than he knew himself—he’d place money on her getting here only five minutes ago and then hauling ass to gather up everything before collapsing in the hammock simply to give the illusion of boredom.

  “Ah, but did you get bait?” He held up the container of worms he’d stopped off to buy from a convenience store that catered to Havenbrook Lake’s residents.

  Narrowing her eyes, she said, “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  He shrugged and plopped on the hammock at her feet, making it swing abruptly and nearly knocking both of them to the ground. “I would’ve beat you if I hadn’t stopped for them, is all I’m sayin’.”

  She gripped the sides of the hammock, no doubt waiting for it to settle. Once it did, she shoved her bare foot into his thigh and shot him a glare—for his words or his actions, he couldn’t be sure. “You are such a sore loser, Hudson Miller.”

  “Or you’re a shady winner.”

  She bolted upright, pressing a finger into his chest. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’re just sayin’ this to get me all riled up!”

  He leaned close to her, so close their noses were almost touching. Fire and challenge burned in her eyes, but something else simmered there too. Something he wasn’t sure he had the right to examine too closely. Not when this was their last weekend together before he left.

  Her breathing increased, her cheeks flushing under his appraisal. Fuck, all he wanted to do was reach up, cup her face, and press his lips to hers. He wanted to taste her again—had wanted to for so long. It’d been years since he’d last had his mouth on hers, and it’d felt like decades. If he got another taste of her now, he had no idea how he’d actually force himself to leave.

  Needing to right this ship before it crashed, he answered her question instead of doing what he desperately wanted. “You’re right. Is it workin’?” he whispered.

  She blinked, and, just like that, the spell was broken. Shoving him in the chest, she rolled out of the hammock, giving it the perfect amount of momentum so he tipped backward and crashed to the ground. “Hope that worked for getting your overinflated, sumo-sized ego under control.”

  He lay there for a minute, chuckling under his breath, as she gathered up their gear.

  “Hey, Mr. Sore Loser. You gonna get up anytime soon, or should I go on without you?”

  “Gimme a minute, would ya? You just landed me on my ass.” Once on his feet, he strode up next to her and took the cooler, bag, and tackle box from her hands, ignoring her sounds of protest. “Before you give me any shitty attitude about that, I’d just like to remind you that this isn’t me saying you can’t carry these things. It’s me being a goddamn gentleman, so just let me.”

  She stared at him for a moment before snapping her mouth shut and shaking her head. A smile tipped up the corner of her mouth as she bumped her hip into his. “I think when you’re trying to be a gentleman, you probably shouldn’t swear so much.”

  He chuckled. “Well, shit. There’s no hope for me, then.”

  She transferred the fishing rods to her opposite hand, then wrapped her other arm around him and nestled into his side. A grin split her face as she looked up at him. “That’s all right. I like you ungentlemanly, too.”

  He wasn’t so sure she’d feel that way if she knew exactly how ungentlemanly his thoughts were while in her presence—and exactly how ungentlemanly he wanted to get with her.

  For as long as he could remember, Kenna had been coming with him to the cabin, which meant words weren’t necessary as they readied to depart the dock. When they’d been younger, she’d tagged along with his family. As the two of them had gotten older, they’d snuck out there on their own. They probably hadn’t needed to sneak, because usually all they did was fish or swim or laze head-to-toe on the hammock and relax.

  Usually.

  Except for the time two summers ago when they’d come here to lose their virginities. Yeah, Daddy Haven probably wouldn’t appreciate that very much.

  “Since you’re bein’ an ass about me winnin’, I guess that means no bets on how many fish we catch.” Kenna reclined back on her hands in the boat as he motored them toward their favorite fishing spot.

  “Aw, c’mon now. Don’t ruin all our fun.” He shot her a smile as he killed the gas to the engine and let them come to a stop in the hidden alcove they’d found years ago. “Tell the truth—you just don’t wanna lose again.”

  She bolted upright, and he tried his hardest to ignore the way her breasts bounced with the movement. “Again?” She gripped the sides of the boat and leaned forward until they were nose-to-nose—and he couldn’t lie…this was nearly as hot as it’d been on the hammock. “I can beat you in anything you throw at me, and you know it.”

  “If you say so… I just figured you cuttin’ off the bet before it could even start was ’cause you were scared.”

  “Scared? Ha! State your terms.”

  He almost laughed at that but held it in. Barely. “All right. Bet takes place for two hours startin’ when the first person casts. Whoever has the most fish when time’s called wins.”

  “And what’re the stakes?”

  Hudson shrugged. “I’ll let you pick your own punishment.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, her jaw tightening. And then she brightened as a smug smile swept over her lips. “Loser kisses all the winner’s fish.”

  He tugged on her ponytail before reaching for his fishing rod. “You’re on.”

  “Don’t you dare cast that line. I still need you to put sunscreen on my back, and if you want me to do the same, I suggest you do it now. Because I won’t hesitate to watch you turn into a lobster while the bet is runnin’.”

  Just listening to her challenge him already had him half hard in his swim trunks. The minute he put his hands on her, he’d be at full salute in about thirty seconds flat. Thankfully, he’d gotten damn good at hiding his dick’s reactions to her over the years. Either that, or she’d gotten damn good at ignoring them.

  She tossed him the sunscreen, then turned and presented him her back, already golden and sun-kissed from spending her summer days outside. She pulled her ponytail around front and bowed her head, waiting for him to do as she’d asked.

  Once he had his hands full of sunscreen, he rubbed them together before pressing them against the small of her back. And then he just…rested them there. She’d arched her
back at the first touch but gradually relaxed into his palms. He’d done this before—a thousand times, no doubt—and hadn’t thought much about it. Had always done it on autopilot, more concerned about hiding his body’s response to her than paying attention to who he was touching and how he was touching her.

  He was paying attention now.

  “It doesn’t work unless you rub it in.” Kenna’s voice had a breathy quality he hadn’t heard…maybe ever.

  “Just tryin’ to make sure it’s not too cold.” The lie came out easily, but he couldn’t say what he was really thinking. Who knew when he’d next get this opportunity? Everything he’d taken for granted in the past—having her there when he called, being able to show up on her doorstep on a whim, touching her whenever he wanted to—was suddenly…precious.

  And he wanted to soak in every bit of it.

  Finally, he moved, tracing the indentation of her spine, pressing his thumbs into the twin dimples just above her ass, massaging her skin under the guise of making sure she was fully protected from the sun. When he slipped his fingers under the band of her top, she sucked in a breath and glanced at him over her shoulder.

  His dick was rock hard in his trunks, and if she bothered to glance down, there’d be no hiding it. She didn’t, though. Instead, she stared straight at him, a thousand questions swimming in the depths of her eyes. Trouble was, he didn’t have any answers to give her.

  So instead, he dropped his hands from her back and broke their gaze. “Don’t wanna turn into a lobster, so I guess it’s my turn.”

  If she heard the husky quality of his voice, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she waited for him to turn and remove his shirt, and then she returned the favor. He couldn’t be sure if it was simply wishful thinking on his part, but it felt like she allowed her hands to linger on him a bit longer than usual. Allowed them to wrap around his sides until she was nearly running her hands along his abs. Allowed them to sink a bit lower, her fingers dipping briefly into the waistband of his trunks.

  After what felt like an eternity of torment and a mere second of bliss, she dropped her hands from his skin and tossed the bottle of sunscreen next to him. She cleared her throat, but her voice still came out raspy. “All done.”

  He twisted around to look at her. Her lips were parted, her cheeks bright and pink, though he had a feeling it wasn’t from the sun. And, dammit, he shouldn’t have looked, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from dipping to her chest any more than he could stop his body’s reaction to what he found. Her nipples pressed against the material of her suit, two pebbled peaks begging for his hands. Or his mouth.

  And he’d never in his life wanted to reach out and tug that damn knot more than he did right now.

  Lord almighty, it was hot out on the boat, and only part of that was thanks to the Mississippi sun. Mac’s entire body felt like it was a live wire. She’d given up attempting to hide the hard points of her nipples in her too-thin bathing suit top, and she didn’t even want to think about the state of her bottoms. Thankfully, she still had on her shorts, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to disguise her reaction to their day that’d been much more…intimate…than she’d expected.

  Which only further cemented her suspicion that what Hudson needed to tell her was about the two of them.

  She couldn’t concentrate on that now, though. If she did, she’d get lost in her thoughts and he’d beat her at their bet. And there was no freaking way she was kissing those fish.

  Shifting in her seat, she shot a look over to Hudson who was focused on casting another line. Her skin was flushed and overheated. She needed a cold shower. She wasn’t gonna get that out here. Normally, she’d just jump in the lake, but they were already knee-deep into their bet, and she wasn’t going to forfeit just to try to get control of her hormones.

  But what was better than an ice-cold shower? Ice. Keeping a secure grip on her fishing rod with one hand, she ran a piece of ice from the cooler over her body with the other. The back of her neck, her cheeks, her collarbone. She used that whole damn thing until it was melted into nothing, and it hadn’t done jack shit. She was still worked up. Could still feel the energy humming between them, the hair on her arm closest to him standing up on end.

  She reached for another cube just as Hudson cleared his throat. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a swim right about now.”

  Before she could respond—to his words, or the husky timbre of his voice—he’d already reeled in his line, set his pole aside, and dove headfirst into the lake.

  He surfaced, shaking the water out of his hair and pinning her with his gaze. “Time-out on the bet.”

  She should have argued with him—they both knew there weren’t time-outs on their bets—but she was so desperate to get her body under control, she took this for the gift it was.

  After she’d reeled in her line and set her fishing rod inside the boat next to Hudson’s, she unbuttoned her shorts and slipped them down her legs, sneaking a peek at him as she did so. She’d never been more thankful for a pair of plastic sunglasses than she was in that moment, because they disguised her shocked reaction behind the tinted lenses. Shock because Hudson didn’t take his eyes off her as she removed the article of clothing. He tracked every inch she revealed. And those eyes? They were full of hunger. His whole body was tight, his jaw tense and shoulders rigid.

  From her? Because of her?

  She shook the thoughts from her head and dove into the lake, surfacing only a foot from where Hudson waded. “Better?” she asked.

  He breathed out a husky laugh and shook his head. “Somehow, this made it infinitely worse.”

  They stared at each other without words, their legs brushing underwater every so often as they swam in place. She’d loved Hudson her whole life, it seemed—as her best friend and most loyal confidant. But she’d been in love with him for years. During that time, she’d had to watch him date others—just as he’d done with her. And while, yes, she’d wanted him that entire time, she’d never had to fight herself so hard not to just…press against him. To wrap herself around him, hold him tightly to her, and fit him into the notch between her legs.

  She positively throbbed for him. And she was so tired of fighting it, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to do it much longer.

  But she needed to find the damn strength, because she wasn’t going to make a move like that—not when he had something so important to tell her. Not when it might come out organically. So instead, she cupped her hands along the surface of the water and pushed in his direction, sending a wave of water right into his face.

  “Did that help?” She didn’t try very hard to keep the laughter out of her voice.

  He stared at her for a moment, water dripping off the tip of his nose and his chin. “I hope you know you’re gonna pay for that.”

  With a squeal, she dipped underwater and swam in the opposite direction as far and as fast as she could, hoping to get away from his revenge. She emerged from the water and looked around. She was maybe fifty feet from the boat, but she couldn’t see Hudson anywhere. Had she actually gotten away from—

  “Nice try,” he whispered in her ear right before he wrapped his arms around her, held her against him for the shortest moment of her life, and then hefted her out of the water and tossed her to the side.

  In their world, that meant game on.

  After who knew how long, they’d both been dunked, tossed—okay, she’d attempted to toss him and all that’d done was make both of them fall into a fit of laughter—and soaked. This was where they were most comfortable—this content place somewhere between playful and intimate. They’d always been physically affectionate toward each other, certainly more so than she was with any of her other guy friends. And, from what she’d seen, it was the same for Hudson.

  Because of that, it was totally normal that he helped her into the boat once they were ready to get out. He’d done it a hundred times before, and while she certainly hadn’t been immune to his hands on
her, she’d never before felt this…electricity between them. She’d never felt such awareness of his body in relation to hers. How his chest brushed her back as she pulled herself up the side of the boat, the curve of her ass running along the front of him. To give her a boost, he wrapped his hands around her upper thighs, right below her bottom, his thumbs tucked between her legs. They were so close to where she ached for him, she was sure if she shifted the tiniest bit, he’d slide right beneath her bikini bottoms and find out exactly how much he’d affected her today.

  Her throat was so tight, she couldn’t even manage a thank-you as she climbed over the side of the boat. And even though she knew she probably shouldn’t—Lord knew she didn’t need any more kindling on the fire burning inside her—she looked back at him as he pulled himself up. His biceps bunched and flexed as he climbed over the side, rivulets of water cascading down his perfectly defined chest. Every muscle in his torso appeared to be cut from stone, tiny droplets of water trailing over each ridge before getting stuck in the valleys between.

  Heaven help her, if she didn’t look away, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself from just…licking all of them.

  Twisting around, she pulled the towels from the bag and handed one to Hudson, careful to keep her gaze averted. While she was hopeful about what he had to talk to her about, she also didn’t want to make a fool of herself and ruin the best friendship she’d ever had—the best one she could ever hope for.

  They didn’t say a word as they both dried off and got settled again, casting out their lines and restarting the clock.

  After minutes of nothing but the sound of the water, Hudson said, “Time’s almost up.” He tipped his chin toward the basket hanging off the side of the boat that contained her caught fish. “How you doin’ over there?”

  Though her body still buzzed with desire, Mac snorted. “Better than you.”

  “Awful cocky for someone who’s about to kiss four fish right on the lips.”

  Four? Oh, he was so gonna lose. She already had five in her basket, with almost ten minutes to try to catch another. Still, she beat down the smug smile threatening to break through so as not to tip him off. Winning by only one wasn’t enough of a margin for her, and she didn’t want to give him an advantage to slant that in his favor.