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

She was over it. She’d been over it for a long time. Saturday night was just a… God, Saturday night. She bent her head, knowing that her cheeks were about as red as the label on the bottle of beer she’d just handed Tiny. Her hands were shaking, and she swallowed that stupid lump that had a bad habit of clogging her throat when it was most inconvenient.

“I’ll take two Guinness.”

She nodded but didn’t look up, trying to clear the lump and get her nerves settled. It took a bit, but she was able to plaster a fake smile on her face when she finally managed to look up. The fake smile lasted all of two seconds.

“Nash!” Holy. Cow. Margot was right. There was something in the water. “What the hell?” she asked, grinning crazily. “What are you doing here?”

He chuckled. “I told you I might come home for a bit.”

“I know, but I guess I thought you’d give me some warning.”

He grinned cheekily. “And here I thought you’d love the surprise.”

“I do…” Rebecca’s smiled dimmed a bit. “You said two?”

Nash watched her for a few seconds before responding. “Yeah. Two. I’m here with

Hudsy.”

No shit.

“You okay with that?” he asked slowly.

“Yeah. It’s fine.” She shrugged. “We’re fine.”

“’Cause we can go somewhere else.”

“There is nowhere else.”

The man in question suddenly appeared, sliding up to the bar beside Nash, his dark eyes finding Rebecca right away.

For the longest time, the two of them stared at each other as if there were no one else in the place. As if the music wasn’t blasting, or the two tables directly behind him weren’t being rowdy and loud. It was as if the world melted away, leaving only Hudson and Rebecca.

He looked good. God, but he looked good. His thick hair was combed back, exposing every angle of his handsome face. Those high cheekbones and square jaw. The sexy beard that covered his chin and gave him a dangerous edge. The dark navy crewneck with white collared shirt.

And those eyes. A girl could get lost in them.

Rebecca glanced away. She’d gotten lost in them once. Considering all it took was a couple of vodkas and some nostalgic music to get her into bed, she was damn near close to losing her shit all over again. She grabbed a mug and angled it slightly; the first thing Tiny had taught her was that there was only one way to pour a Guinness and it was an art form she’d learned quickly. Once she topped it, she put it aside to settle and grabbed the second mug, repeating the same procedure.

“Hey,” Hudson said softly. “I came by your place Sunday.”

Rebecca stared at her hands. They were shaking slightly, and she had to work hard to keep them still. Tiny sidled up beside her. He reached over and grabbed a couple of limes, his gaze moving from Rebecca to Hudson.

“You got this?” Tiny asked, a small frown touching his lips.

Rebecca nodded and murmured, “I’m good.”

Tiny lingered an extra second or so and then moved away to garnish the drinks he was making.

“Becs.” Hudson leaned closer.

“We can’t do this.” She whispered the words and, not sure he heard her, looked up, shaking her head and speaking clearly. “Not now, Hudson.”

His dark eyes were unnerving, but she managed to hold his gaze while reaching for the mugs and sliding them across the bar.

“We good here?” Nash asked, glancing between the two of them.

“We’re good,” Rebecca replied, that fake smile of hers back in place where it belonged.