“You weren’t?” I assumed the camaraderie of the team mindset is what bonded them together, regardless of where.
“No,” he said, and that rare darkness I sometimes saw in him flashed across his eyes. He cleared them in a few seconds. “There is something about these guys—Gage and Rory and Warren and Eric and Connor and Lukas and…” he snorted. “Don’t ever tell them, okay?”
I nodded.
“But they’ve become closer to me than my own brother,” he said, shaking his head. “Not that I don’t love my kid brother, but he’s a mess. And we don’t see each other every day like I do the guys.” He sighed. “When I got traded it was a relief and a terror. I knew I didn’t need to get along with any of the Sharks. Knew the only thing I needed to do was what I was good at—play hockey—but I wanted it.”
I shifted closer to him, fully tuned in. The man rarely said much about himself, and this…he was showing a vulnerability I’d never seen before.
“I was tired of the coldness between me and my teammates back home,” he continued. “Tired of the tension it caused off the ice, too. And when that final straw...” He cleared his throat, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Well, when I came here,” he said. “I found more than I’d ever hoped for.”
His blue eyes were locked onto mine when he said the last words, and a warm thrill raced through me. Something potent and tangible crackled between us, so sharp and hot I drew in a shaken breath.
He didn’t mean you.
He meant his new brothers. His new family. His team.
Not you.
Not us.
“See,” I finally managed to say. “As ruthless as I may think hockey is…” I grinned at his cocked brow. “It’s also this beautiful collection of connections. What you found is rare,” I said, folding my arms around myself. “You should do everything you can to hold onto it.”
His playful look fell, the seriousness in my words sinking in.
“I’ve behaved,” he said. “Much to my PR rep’s happiness.”
I chuckled, the tension loosening from my muscles. “Yes,” I said. “I would absolutely behave if I were you. Langley is a fierce woman I’d never want to cross.” I’d only met her a couple of times from working with Connor, but she was just wild and fierce enough to keep the band of Sharks in check.
“Shea,” Hudson said, reaching out like he might graze a finger down my folded arms but thought better of it.
“Hmm?” I asked, my eyes never leaving his, that energy pulsing between us. So hot and intense I had the urge to drop to my knees right there in his kitchen and repay the favor he’d done for me. More than that—I wanted him in my mouth, wanted to worship him like he had me. Knew that he would let me be in control, that he wouldn’t take over and use my mouth as nothing more than—
“Don’t you have work?” His question jolted me out of my tangle of desires.
“I do!” I stood straighter, trying like hell to blink the lust out of my eyes.
Shoot, I was going to be late.
I rushed around the corner and waved goodbye to Elliot. “Don’t work too hard,” I called to her over my shoulder.
“Always,” she said, not bothering to slow down from her skating.
“Thank you,” I said, my hand on Hudson’s front door.
“How many times do I have to tell you,” he said, wrenching the door open for me. “You don’t need to thank me. I love that kid,” he said, his eyes toward the room where Elliott was.
Something warm bloomed in my heart, but I told it to freeze.
“I will never stop saying thank you,” I said, my voice cracking.
He sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll never stop telling you not to. We’ll just argue the point forever I guess,” he said.
I swallowed around the lump in my throat.
“Fine,” I managed to say, forcing a smile to my lips that felt more shaken than sturdy. “See you after work. Call me if you need anything.”
“I’ve got this,” he said. “Go. Help people.”
I parted my lips to say thank you again, but he stopped my words with his finger. My heart raced, my blood soared at that simple touch on my lips, and maybe it was the lust lingering from my fantasy before, or maybe it was the delicious soreness between my thighs I could still feel…but I wrapped my lips around the pad of his finger and sucked.
The low growl that rumbled from his chest?
It made me molten.
A simple sound and I was practically purring for him.
I swirled my tongue around that finger, my hands gently gripping that massive forearm as he stood statue still. I looked up, locked eyes with him, and his gaze…it was fire and ice and plucked every one of my nerves into a tingling frenzy. The taste of his skin in my mouth wasn’t enough—I wanted all of him.
Work. Cases.
I sighed, almost whimpered, as I slowly drew his finger out of my mouth, and took a step back. He held my gaze, his chest rising and falling, and we didn’t need words. I could read him clearly enough—the promise in his eyes, the want, the leash he held himself on.
God, he was perfect.
Knew what I needed.
Understood my fears and my past without me ever telling him.
I tried to convey that appreciation, that understanding, between us. Tried to silently show him how much I felt him, felt our connection, before I hurried out the door like he’d burned me.
Like I couldn’t get away fast enough.
Which was partly true.
Because he was making my head spin.
I love that kid.
Forever.
The words unfurled and burst and swam through my head, making me slightly dizzy as I drove toward my office.
Of course he loved her.
Everyone loved her.
She was amazing.
But the words, the declaration, they sank into that warm piece of my heart. That small sliver of melted ice that had only started to beat and hope again since Hudson came into our lives. I hadn’t realized it, hadn’t acknowledged its presence, but it was there. Shining with hope and desire and all the things I wasn’t supposed to allow myself.
Because I couldn’t risk Elliott’s heart—couldn’t risk her being burned because I’d been careless with mine.
Her father had never wanted us, and I couldn’t stand the thought of another man walking out on her.
Hudson is different.
Those warm pieces of
me fought for him, for his character, for the wonderful man I knew he was.
But the cold, icy fingers of fear were stronger, and they told me to tread carefully.
Which, wasn’t I always?
The hot memory of his mouth on me begged to differ.
A few passionate moments wouldn’t be the end of the world though, and Elliott had no idea.
We were fine.
We were safe.
And the rest? I’d figure it out along the way.
* * *
“You stupid bitch!” the guy’s voice cracked, still so much a boy, and miles to go to be a man.
I heard him before I’d even opened my car door.
Adrenaline raced through my veins, every alert hair standing on end as I bolted from the car.
I’d been screamed at enough in my life that survival mode took over the second I was around it again. Didn’t matter that it was directed at Melissa and not me. I was ready to draw blood, full mama bear instincts flooding my system.
I stomped up to where Melissa was clutching a crying, wiggling Liam. Her hands occupied with something so precious, of course she couldn’t grab the pepper spray I’d given her.
She had called me ten minutes ago, saying Devon was outside her work. Said she was going to try to talk some sense into him. Thought she might be able to keep him away if she was firm.
I had advised against it, but I couldn’t tell her how to live her life.
But I damn sure wasn’t going to let her go through it alone.
I’d gotten in my car faster than I could blink and phoned the police on my way over.
I knew how likely the situation could escalate—not only had I lived it, I’d seen it countless times over my career.
“He’s mine,” he said. “You’re mine. You come home where you belong.”
The kid couldn’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, not that age really mattered when muscles and size could dominate. But there was always a choice when hit with real life as a youth—step up or step down. Melissa had chosen to do whatever she could for her son. Him? He only wanted what he felt he was entitled to, not what was best for his child.
“Melissa,” I said, my shoulder practically touching hers.