You Make Me Weak (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 1)

She cranked the tunes, and the hours flew past. She forgot about everything but the job at hand, and as she finished the last seam, the ache across her shoulders tightened. She tossed the sandpaper to the floor and groaned, stepping back so that she could admire her work.

Beyoncé was up next, and she sang along, walking the room and inspecting each seam. It was important to get the surface smooth for when she painted them. She ripped out her earbuds, checked her watch, and realized she had less than an hour to vacuum the dust and grab a shower.

“I’m impressed.”

Whirling around, she spied Hudson leaning against the doorframe.

“You’re still here.”

“Just finished piling the wood behind your shed.” He glanced around the room. “Not many women I know would spend an entire afternoon sanding down drywall.”

“I guess you know the wrong kind of women.”

“You’re probably right.”

Suddenly hot, Rebecca yanked on the edge of her T-shirt, which only managed to draw his gaze from her face to her breasts. The problem? The T-shirt was an oldie, and the thin material stretched tightly across her breasts.

Hudson’s eyes darkened, and the temperature ramped up even more.

“I should…” she began, voice cracking a bit. “I need to vacuum before Violet and Adam get here. And I still need to shower.”

“I can run your shop vac. Go shower, and I’ll get this cleaned up for you.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You’ve done a lot, Hudson.”

“I don’t mind.” There was that smile again. That wicked. Sensual. Knowing smile. “It’s all part of that—”

“Friend thing. I know.” She blew out a hot breath, not believing she was going to say what it was that was currently sitting on the tip of her tongue, but why stop now?

“I’ve got chilli in the slow cooker, fresh buns, and Caesar salad. If you want to join us for dinner.” Did she really just invite him to stay longer?

He seemed as surprised as she. “Are you sure?”

She found her backbone and nodded. “Don’t read anything into this, Hudson. I just… I made a lot of food,” she said in a rush.

Hudson walked toward her, each stride long and measured. By the time he crossed the room, she felt faint because her heart was pounding like a crazed drum machine, and she was pretty damn sure he knew it.

He stopped a few inches from Rebecca, and silence slid around them. She noticed the pulse at the base of his neck—knew he was just as affected by their close quarters as she was.

“Sounds good.” Hudson reached for her, and she froze, her breath caught in her throat, her eyes as wide as saucers. She might have squeaked or groaned or something when his fingers grazed the side of her cheek.

“You’ve got some dirt here.” He carefully rubbed just beneath her earlobe, and by the time his hand dropped away, she ached for more.

“I’m going to shower,” she managed to say.

“You do that.” Hudson paused. “Friend.”

Rebecca practically ran to her room. She closed the door behind her and locked it. Silly, really, because it didn’t keep him out. As she climbed into the shower and let the hot water roll over her, he was right there with her. Her eyes slammed shut, but she could still see him. Feel him. Smell him.

Her friend. Her buddy. Rebecca swore. She was so screwed.

So. Damn. Screwed.

Chapter 21

“Dinner was great.”

Adam and Violet had just left, their boisterous twins in tow, while Liam had gone up to bed. It wasn’t late—just past ten—but the kid had spent most of the day outdoors, and the fresh Michigan air had pretty much done him in.