“Hudson Blackwell.” She managed to add at least three more syllables to his name. “Someone told me you were back in town. Glad to see the local gossip was right for once.” She smiled and got right up in his personal space, glancing at his hand with a calculating look in her eye. “You single these days, Hudson?”
All that restless energy in him rushed to the surface, and, hot, he rubbed the back of his neck while considering his options. Maybe a quick screw was what he needed to get his head back in the game and Rebecca off his mind.
“You want to buy me a drink?” she asked coyly, swiping that pink tongue of hers along the edge of her mouth once more. She was a fine-looking woman, he’d give her that, and though he’d never sampled her offerings back in the day, he was pretty sure she’d show him a good time tonight. The thought of hot, dirty sex with an attractive woman had never failed to get his motor going. But when she put her hand on his forearm and leaned closer, he had to force himself not to push her away.
What the hell?
He didn’t want her. Plain and simple. Well, shit. Cock-blocked by a memory.
He looked over Shelli’s head, and everything in him stilled as his gaze locked with Rebecca’s. Ethan was motioning with his hands as he spoke, and sure she nodded as if listening to him, but her eyes were glued to Hudson and neither one of them was looking away. In that moment, there was just the two of them, and in a weird way, time stood still.
The spell was broken when Ethan moved and she disappeared from his line of vision.
His heart rate quickened, and he clenched his hands into fists, because the urge to stomp over there and plant one of them in Ethan Burke’s nose was strong. And that was insane. Ethan was a good guy, and Hudson had no claim on Rebecca.
“Hey.” Shelli sounded annoyed and tugged on his arm. “Drink?” she said again, pulling him toward the bar.
Hudson was so rattled that it took a few seconds for him to get his shit together, and when he did, he pulled his arm from her grasp.
“Maybe another time.”
Hudson didn’t wait around for her reaction. He spun on his heels and headed for the doors. His mood was black. His body tense. His gut churned. He never should have come here.
Hudson made it outside without having to speak to anyone else, and that was a chore in itself. He strode through a crowd of people he’d known his whole life, all of them wanting to say hello or ask after his father or one of his brothers. He kept his head down and didn’t look up until he got to his truck. He made no effort to climb inside but stood there, inhaling that crisp, cold Michigan air he missed more than he cared to admit.
How long he stood alone in the dark he couldn’t say, but he was cold from the damp when his brain finally told him to get his ass moving. He shoved his hand into his pocket, intent on finding his key, when something made him look up. Sixth sense? Or just the absolute awareness he’d always had for her.
Rebecca.
She walked toward him, a little unsteady on her feet, and when she stopped a few feet away, he realized she’d had more than she should to drink. Her cheeks were pink, all that golden hair of hers wild and crazy around her shoulders, and her eyes glittered like glass. Her mouth, that delectable pillow-soft mouth, was parted and her chest rose and fell as if she was having a hard time breathing. Worn denim clung to hips that were rounder than he remembered, and a butt that was made for a man to grab hold of. No longer was she a precocious teenager, a woman-child who’d bloomed beneath his touch. This right here was a full-on, grown-ass lady and she was…
The hottest thing he’d ever seen.
“Where’re you going?” She hiccupped beneath a hand and stumbled a bit more. He didn’t mind, because she stumbled toward him. Now she was only a few inches away.
The slight breeze picked up her scent, and that familiar warm vanilla smell made his gut clench.
“I was thinking of heading home.” Thinking? Hell, that sounded like indecision, and the only right thing to do was get his ass home and leave her alone.
“I saw you talking to Shelli.” Her words were slightly slurred and carried a hint of accusation.
Hudson wasn’t exactly sure where this was headed, but he was more than willing to go along with it. Maybe it was the Michigan air, or the smell of vanilla that permeated it. Or the woman who swayed in front of him, looking up at him with a strange expression.
“She said hello.”
“You taking her home?”
“No.”
Rebecca cranked her neck to the side and peered behind him. “Why not?”
Hudson considered his answer and decided to be honest. Hell, what did he have to lose? “I didn’t want to.”
She muttered something under her breath.
“What was that?”
“I said you’re probably the first guy in Crystal Lake who’s ever turned her down. That has to be some kind of record.” Rebecca looked defiant, and he was pretty sure she was spoiling for a fight. He knew the signs—remembered them well.