Her hands throbbed, and she slathered on some Neosporin, but she didn’t have Band-Aids large enough to cover the road rash, and by the time she was ready to leave for work, she was near tears in frustration. She’d really done a number on herself, and it wasn’t going to be easy for a couple of days.
Her doorbell rang. She couldn’t imagine who’d be here at this hour, but she went to the front door of her house and looked through the side window to see Hudson with a white plastic bag in his hand.
Looking sexy in his black Miami Thunder polo shirt and tan khakis, his beard well trimmed, she was reminded of what it felt like to have the soft hair rubbing against her skin as they’d kissed. She shivered, her nipples tightening beneath her bra.
“Shake it off, Brianne,” she muttered as she unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Hudson! What are you doing here?”
“Making a house call.”
Warmth spread through her at his thoughtfulness. “I guess that makes me special.”
His answering grin seduced her right down to her toes, but when his gaze went to her hands, his smile turned to a frown. “From the looks of things, you could use my help.”
She glanced at her greasy palms and winced. “Yes, I could.”
He nodded. “The skin was pretty chafed last night, and I figured you’d need help with a fresh wrap so it doesn’t get infected.” He lifted the bag that obviously held medical supplies.
“Come on in.” She stepped back, making room for him to enter.
He brushed past her, the warm, masculine smell of his cologne putting her into a sensual haze.
“Let’s go into the kitchen,” she said, her voice a shade deeper than normal.
As he walked ahead of her, he looked around, taking in her beloved home.
“From the day I saw this place, I loved it,” he said. He’d visited recently for a family get-together.
“Me, too.” Wanting a home of her own, Bri had bought the patio house last year.
She followed him to the kitchen, seeing the house through his eyes. Light blue walls with chair rails and molding painted in white, dark hardwood floors, and area rugs in strategic places with pops of color in various shades of blue. Her favorite color. A sense of pride filled her at knowing he liked her sanctuary as much as she did, which was odd that she cared what Hudson thought.
At thirty-two years old, she’d pretty much decided she might be on her own and not part of a couple, and she’d created the life she wanted without waiting for a guy to make her feel complete. She’d hired a decorator because she didn’t have the time to pick things out for herself, described her taste, and ended up with everything she would have chosen anyway.
Hudson placed the bag on the counter near her barstools and began to take out gauze, tape, and Neosporin, which she already had. His thoughtfulness touched her.
Though Braden had texted to check in, it was Hudson who was here. “Thanks for coming over. I was struggling a bit.” She wasn’t one to ask for help and more the type to find solutions; still, she was glad he was here.
She settled herself on a barstool, and Hudson walked around the counter and came up beside her. “Since it looks like you did the cleanup and ointment, I’ll just wrap it for you.”
“I appreciate it.” Holding out her hands, she waited as he began to wrap the gauze just as he’d done last night, finishing one hand with adept precision.
“So anything that you’ll have to cancel thanks to the injury? Tennis? A workout? A date this weekend?” he asked, his gaze focused on his task as he casually tossed out possibilities.
Her heart stuttered on the last one. “A date?”
He lifted his head, his coffee-colored eyes focused on hers. “Yeah. Do you have a date this weekend?”
She blinked, her brain processing his question. “Are you saying I can’t go out with someone because my hands are hurt?” Because that made no sense. Unless he was hinting at something more.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Unless you go with someone capable of taking care of you.” His fingers linked with hers, careful not to rub his bigger hand against her palms.
She tipped her head to the side. “Someone like you?” she prodded.
“Someone exactly like me.”
That damned smile showed itself again, and her insides turned to mush. No man had ever had such a potent impact. “Are you asking me out, Dr. Northfield?”
Chapter Three
“I’m not only asking you out, I’m asking you to come to New York with me,” he said.
Bri’s eyes opened wide at the out-of-the-blue question.
“My cousin Serena is getting married, and I’d like you to go with me.” He picked up the roll of gauze and started to wrap her other hand. “Serena and I are close. She’s the one relative who completely gets that I want to do my own thing outside family expectations because she’s the same way. She met her soon-to-be husband at the gym she works out at. He’s a trainer. Suffice to say, her parents are paying for this wedding with gritted teeth.”