Hudson

by Melody Anne

  Soon she’d be home, and she’d forget all about her time away. She got back to the gate as they announced first class boarding. It felt very odd for her to join that line, and she was sure guilt was written all over her face as she passed many weary passengers, but she moved forward, then held her breath as the agent scanned her boarding pass. “Have a good flight, Ms. Green.” That was it. She took her pass and moved down the jet bridge. Yep, this was turning into one heck of a great day. She hadn’t thought that possible.

  She met a flight attendant at the entrance to the plane who looked at her ticket and smiled. “Cross over to the other side of the galley; your seat is the last one on the left,” she said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes to take your drink order, Ms. Green.”

  It was so odd to be called by name. And she’d never gotten a drink before takeoff. After this flight she had a feeling she’d never want to fly coach again. This could be dangerous.

  She found her seat and couldn’t help but grin like a loon. She was sure she looked completely out of place. Glancing around the surprisingly large cabin she noticed the no-nonsense looks of the other passengers. If all planes had seats like these, she imagined a lot more people would be willing to fly.

  But if all of the seats were this roomy, they’d only have an eighth of the passengers on board and the flights would cost a million dollars each. That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but being crammed in those small spaces in the back of the plane wasn’t the least bit fun.

  She put her bag away, then lifted the blanket, pillow, and small cosmetic bag that was on her seat. She set them on the small table next to her and then sat, sighing at how comfortable it was. There was a decent sized television in front of her. She wished she wasn’t so tired, because it would be heaven to relax in this amazing seat for the entire flight and watch movies while an attendant brought her drink after drink. It must be nice to live on the other side of the poverty line. She wouldn’t know, and with her passion for service work, she’d never find out.

  But somehow she’d get someplace in life; she’d work her tail off and try to earn a bit more money. Having this small piece of paradise was making her more determined than ever before. She was just settling in when the flight attendant appeared and took her drink order. There were so many choices, but she’d go with her favorite for now. “I’ll have a cranberry and vodka,” she said. She should get a coffee and wake up, but as great as this was, sleep was necessary. She had a long layover when she reached San Francisco, and she’d rather sleep in the safety of this plane than in that busy terminal.

  “I’ll be right back.” The woman disappeared and Daisy leaned back, closed her eyes, and listened to the quiet voices around her as they put bags away, chatted, and ordered their own drinks.

  “Now this is the way to get home,” she whispered to herself.

  “This is the second best,” a man’s voice said. She didn’t need to look up to recognize that voice. She’d only spoken to him for a brief time, but it was unforgettable.

  She looked up and gazed into the eyes of the man she’d been sitting with in the lobby. Of course he’d be on her flight and in this cabin. How had she not thought of that?

  He slid down into the seat beside hers, the only thing separating them a tiny half-wall that appeared to be removable. She suddenly felt alone, as if it were just the two of them in this tight little space she’d thought was large a few seconds earlier. She wasn’t thinking that way anymore.

  Daisy gazed at him then lifted her glass, downing it in three swallows. He smirked as he began putting away his carry-on and computer. She didn’t know what to think about all of this. Had he arranged it? And if so, why?

  “Would you care for a drink, Mr. Anderson?” the flight attendant asked. Anderson? She’d just been talking to her grandfather about the Andersons. But, she told herself, she’d recognize him if he was one of those Andersons. It was a common name, and nothing to fret about. The man obviously had money, but from his clothes, he didn’t have Seattle Anderson money.

  “I’ll take a whiskey and Coke,” he said. His attention barely strayed from Daisy, confusing her even more.

  “Can I get a refill?” Daisy piped up. She had a feeling she was going to need a dozen drinks before this flight ended.

  It was ridiculous to be attracted to this man, and beyond that, pointless. It couldn’t lead anywhere, and as much as she tried to tell herself she was an independent woman who could do whatever she wanted, she didn’t have one-night stands. She envied those who could. She wished she could be reckless with zero guilt.

  “I’m Hudson, by the way,” he said after a moment. Now, he was going to give her his name. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t seem bothered by that. He got more comfortable before zeroing in on her again.

  “Why the scowl?” he asked. “Don’t care for the accommodations?” His smirking question raised the hackles on her neck. He might belong in first class, but it was more than obvious she didn’t. That didn’t make him better than her, just wealthier. She’d bet she was nicer and that was better than money.

  “My scowl doesn’t come close to comparing to that smug look on your face. You appear as if you own the world, and always get your way. It’s less than attractive,” she informed him in her haughtiest voice.

  She expected a blistering comeback. That wasn’t what she got. Just as the flight attendant appeared with both of their drinks, he grinned, then let out a burst of laughter. The woman serving them seemed utterly mesmerized. Daisy couldn’t blame her. The man’s scowl was gorgeous, his smile was downright edible.

  “Maybe I do always get my way,” he told her with a wink.

  “No one always gets their way,” she said. And if he had any nefarious plans with her, he’d walk away the loser. She’d never become a rich man’s plaything. She’d been offered the opportunity several times as she’d gone to various places around the world. She’d never been tempted. She might not go so far as to say she wasn’t tempted now, but she would say she was incredibly strong-willed. That was a start.

  The look he shot her said challenge received and accepted. It sent another shudder down her spine. She decided she wouldn’t win a sparring match with him, so she turned and looked out her window, intending to ignore him the entire flight. She was going to drink and eat, possibly watch a movie, and then sleep for the rest of the flight. She didn’t have to say another word to the man. He’d upped and walked away from her without a goodbye. She could offer him the same.

  Soon they’d be in the air, and in the blink of an eye she’d be home. He’d be a fun memory to pull out on a cold winter night — nothing more.

  For now, she’d close her eyes and think about him — doing a few delicious things to her body. It was a stupid fantasy road to go down, but he couldn’t read her mind, so she was safe.

  Maybe that was the fantasy.

  Safe was nothing but an illusion.

  Chapter Four

  Hudson watched as the beautiful woman leaned back with her eyes closed. They were reaching full altitude, and the attendants were preparing to take food orders. He was surprisingly hungry. He rarely ate on these flights, preferring a nice juicy cheeseburger to fancy dining. But he’d tried to fit so much into a forty-eight-hour vacation, he hadn’t stopped to eat much. Everything on the menu sounded good.

  He should tell Daisy to look at her menu, have her order ready. He’d heard her stomach rumbling earlier, and he had a feeling she was pretty hungry. If she fell asleep he could order for her, then wake her when the food arrived.

  He wanted to talk to her, but he wasn’t sure where to start. That was sort of odd for him. Okay, it was really odd. He was good at finding words and striking up conversations, better than most.

  But his intrigue with this woman was making him tongue-tied. She was beautiful, incredibly beautiful. It was obvious she downplayed her looks, wearing very little makeup with her hair free and unstyled. But she was one of those lucky few who most likely looked better
without paint on her face.

  Though her shiny blonde hair was a bit messed, he clenched his fingers together to keep from reaching out to see if it was as soft as it looked. She smelled like peaches and cream, and he found himself more than willing to take a bite.

  “Hello, Mr. Anderson, are you ready to order?” the flight attendant asked. He’d been so intently studying Daisy, he hadn’t noticed the woman walk up beside him.

  “Yes, I’ll take the pork chops, salad, and banana cream pie,” he told her. “And if there’s a little extra, I’ll take it off of your hands. I didn’t realize I was hungry until I sat down.” He gave her his most winning smile and noticed the blush stealing over her cheeks. If he could only get that same reaction from the woman sitting next to him.

  But would he be as interested if she was infatuated? Maybe he had more problems than he cared to admit. Why was the chase so much more fun than the capture? He looked at life as one big adventure. It was always about winning. You couldn’t win what was freely given. There was no victory in that.

  “And for you, Ms. Green?” the attendant asked. He turned and found Daisy’s eyes open but groggy.

  “I haven’t looked,” she said apologetically.

  “It’s right there beside you,” the woman said, not sounding impatient at all. Daisy grabbed the menu and glanced at it briefly.

  “Oh, this all looks good,” she said, her eyes brightening as she woke up. She’d only been asleep for about thirty minutes, but apparently that had been a heck of a power nap. “I’ll have the chicken pasta, salad, broccoli soup, and peanut butter cookies,” she said with a grin.

  “I’ll add some of that soup to mine,” Hudson said. It was one of his favorites. He must’ve missed it.

  “Very well,” the attendant said. “And would you like something else to drink?”

  “I’ll take the same and some water,” Daisy said.

  “Me too,” Hudson told the woman. She nodded, then moved on to the next row. Daisy began fiddling with the table next to her, trying to figure out how to move it in front of her.

  Hudson smiled as a frown appeared between her brows. Then he reached over and undid the pin, allowing the table to move. She gave him a sheepish grin. “This is my first time in the fancy section,” she said with a shrug. “I like to try to figure things out on my own, but some stuff is harder than others. Thank you.”

  “You didn’t talk much about your time in Australia,” he told her as she leaned her seat up a little more.

  “Nope. And I don’t plan to. It didn’t work out well for me, so I’m moving forward.”

  He wasn’t the sort of guy to be blown off, but he also knew there were multiple ways to get to the end of a good story. He wouldn’t have to drag it out of her; he’d have to lead her on a different path to get the information he wanted. It took longer than the direct approach, but they had a fifteen-hour flight. There was nothing but time.

  “Whenever I go to Australia, I take time to get some fishing in. It’s far too long of a flight not to kick back and enjoy it for a while,” he told her. “So I like to work hard and then play hard as well.”

  “I love to fish,” she said. “I haven’t done it in a very long time.”

  The attendant brought them tablecloths for their small tables and hot towels for their hands. Daisy sighed as she cleaned her hands and arms. She then ran the towel over her neck and the top of her shoulders. He smiled again, something he was doing a lot in this woman’s presence.

  “Feeling the stickiness of travel?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Very much so. I really want a shower. I’m incredibly grateful not to be crammed up in the back right now. I’m sure if anyone has been waiting as long as I have, the smells back there aren’t pleasant. At least I can get a bit of a sponge bath up here. The restrooms are a little bigger.”

  His pants tightened as a pulse ran through his groin, picturing her naked with a hot, soapy cloth in her hand as she smoothed it over her flat belly, then up over the mounds of her breasts. He pulsed again. Those sort of thoughts needed to be buried deep if he didn’t want to attack her before this flight ended.

  Then again, he’d never joined the mile-high club. Maybe this could be a first for him — and if he was a betting man, for her as well.

  “I could wash your back,” he offered with a wicked grin.

  She gazed at him in shock for a second before she surprised him once more and laughed. Damn, the sound of her amusement was nearly enough to take his breath away. He hadn’t had a reaction to a woman like this in . . . in . . . hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever had a reaction like this toward a woman.

  “You get your way a lot, don’t you?” she finally asked.

  Before he could answer the attendant brought them their drinks, bread, soup, and salad. He watched as Daisy seasoned her soup before taking a bite.

  “Delicious!” she said with a sigh. She took a few more sips before buttering her bread and dipping it in the soup. He liked a woman who actually ate. It made an adventure with her a lot more fun. Why take her to a great dining experience if she only ordered greens without dressing?

  He seasoned his soup and dressed his salad, then responded to her question of at least five minutes earlier. She seemed to have forgotten she’d asked it when he quietly said, “I never don’t get my way.”

  She inhaled her soup a bit too quickly and coughed. Good. He liked throwing her off kilter. She sure was doing that to him.

  “I get my way a lot too,” she told him. Then she frowned as she paused eating. “Well, I did until lately, that is.”

  “I guess we’ve met at the right time then,” he said with a laugh. She narrowed her eyes for a moment and then laughed again, shaking her head.

  “I might have a few losses under my belt, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get your way,” she informed him. “However, I’ve always enjoyed sparring with a man who doesn’t shrink away. It makes winning more of a victory and it keeps me from feeling as if I’m picking on somebody.”

  “I can both give and take, baby,” he told her with a wink.

  “Hmm, I have a feeling you’re much more of a taker,” she said.

  “Ouch,” he groaned as he held a hand to his heart. She laughed again. She wasn’t buying it.

  The thing was, she was right. He normally was a taker. Well, not in the bedroom. He found it immensely satisfying to give a woman orgasm after orgasm. If she wasn’t interested in doing that, he didn’t see the woman again. He didn’t enjoy a woman who did nothing but lie there and hope it would end soon. Sex was fun, adventurous, and should last and last and last. He could go all night and then do it again in the morning when he was with the right partner.

  He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. He looked at Daisy again. He smiled. Hmm, she could keep him up all night — he was sure of it. He’d definitely like to taste every . . . single . . . inch of her tight body.

  Their dishes were cleared, and their drinks replaced with a promise the main course was coming soon. Daisy leaned back with a full drink and sighed.

  “I might’ve ordered too much food. But it’s free, and it’s delicious, and I don’t want to waste it. I’ll definitely have to put on my sweatpants because my jeans are going to get way too tight.”

  Once again she floored him with her words. He could guarantee no woman had ever said that to him before. The women he normally hung out with wouldn’t admit to getting bloated or to overeating. She laughed as she gazed at him.

  “I have you figured out,” she said as she reached down to her waist and did something. She saw him staring and laughed again. “I’m undoing my pants. I can’t change right now, but I’m getting prepared.”

  “I’ve never met someone like you,” he said.

  She grinned as if that was a compliment. “I guarantee I can describe the sort of women you normally hang with.”

  “How would you know that? We’re just beginning to talk,” he said.

  “I can d
escribe her to a T. I’ve seen them a lot in my world. She only eats salad on a date and drinks only the finest champagne with strawberries, of course. If she does overeat, which she will on occasion, she does it in the privacy of her home, and then quickly has remorse and throws it all up. Then she has to brush her teeth for a solid ten minutes because they’re expensive veneers, and she doesn’t want the puke from her binging session to ruin them. She’ll live on miniscule calories to make the world think she’s beautiful, but inside she never feels she’s good enough.” She paused. But before he could inject, she started speaking again.

  “You’ll never read the misery on her face because you’re too busy looking at her assets. Other women, real women who care, can see it. I see it. Because I’ve had negative images of myself for many, many years. However, I decided I wouldn’t let that happen anymore. I like who I am, and I like being imperfect. People have less expectations about me.”

  Hudson was at a loss for words. Who was this woman? He truly wanted to know. She spoke much like his mother — the single most influential woman of his life — but she was even bolder. Daisy seemed fearless, but he also read vulnerability in her.

  “Here’s your main course,” the attendant said. She set down a new tray with Daisy’s pasta, more bread, chocolate, and a vase . . . with a red rose in it.

  “This is the best food I’ve had in forever,” Daisy told him as she took her time savoring the food on her plate.

  “You were in Australia where they have phenomenal food,” he told her. “How long were you there?”

  She was more at ease after three drinks and should be pretty full if the amount of food she’d consumed was any indication. He was amazed someone so small could put away nearly as much as he did. He had to be twice her weight.

  “I was there for a year. It’s the longest I’ve gone without seeing my gramps. I was supposed to be home for the holidays but it didn’t work out. I was seriously bummed. It doesn’t feel like Christmas if it’s summertime. I don’t know how they get into the holidays in tropical climates. But if that’s what you’ve grown up with, I guess you wouldn’t really notice. You’re asking a lot of questions, so why don’t you tell me something about you.”