Rosalie Undone (Book Six)

by Elizabeth Kelly

  “Lincoln, come back to bed. I’m cold.”

  The woman’s voice was warm and husky and dripping with sexiness. She heard a low purring sound and her stomach churned as the woman’s voice drew closer.

  “Lincoln, did you hear me? I need your big dick to warm -”

  “Just a second, Charlyn. I’m talking to a friend.” Lincoln’s voice was muffled.

  “Unless that friend is willing to suck your dick, you have thirty seconds to get back into this bed or you’re going to be a very disappointed lion.” The woman laughed before purring again.

  Rosalie watched her knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. She could barely hear Lincoln over the buzzing in her ears.

  “Rosalie, how about I pay for a tow truck for you?” Lincoln’s voice was distracted.

  “No, that’s okay. I’m sorry to have bothered you, I’d -”

  “You aren’t bothering me, Rosie. Really. It’s just I have a friend over and -”

  “It’s fine. You, uh, have fun and I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

  “Rosie, wait -”

  She hit the end button and threw the phone onto the seat, staring at it like it was a venomous snake. Her hands were shaking, her face was too hot, and she wanted to vomit. It was one thing to know that Lincoln slept with other women, it was entirely different to hear it happening.

  She closed her eyes and banged the back of her head against the headrest. She wanted to cry, and she blinked the tears back fiercely. She wouldn’t cry. She knew who Lincoln was and what she needed to do to make him hers. She couldn’t expect him to just sit and wait around while she worked up the nerve to get good at sex.

  Next weekend, she’d hit a bar and find a shifter to have sex with. She’d never pictured herself having sex with a stranger, but if she wanted Lincoln to fall in love with her, she had to get over her shyness and her sexual hang-ups. She might be self-conscious about the way she looked, but there were shifters who found women with some extra chub attractive.

  Hey, Rosie? Think you can stop obsessing over your sex issues for two seconds and figure out how to fix the current mess you’re in?

  She grabbed her phone and Googled a tow truck company. Cursing herself for never learning how to change a tire, she phoned the tow truck company.

  Five minutes later, she tossed her cell phone on the seat beside her and tried not to burst into tears. There was no reason to cry. Sure, she had tried five different companies and all of them were going to be at least two hours, if not longer. But at least she had a tow truck coming, right?

  She brushed away the hot tears and reached for her phone to text Hudson. Before she could start typing, he texted her.

  Hey, are we still on for the movie?

  Sorry, got a flat tire on my way to the theatre. Will be a couple hours for the tow truck. Watch the movie without me, maybe we can try again next week.

  She waited for a reply. After a few minutes, she set her phone on the seat next to her and stared out the windshield. It’s not like she thought Hudson would come rescue her or anything, but she thought she’d at least get a reply.

  Why? Hudson tolerates you and nothing more. He can tell you all he wants that you’re friends, but it’s a pretty goddamn weird friendship.

  She sighed and rubbed her forehead. After their conversation yesterday, she was pretty certain Hudson believed they were friends. It was just that the polar bear shifter had a very different idea of what friendship was. That idea did not include coming to the rescue when she was stranded on the side of the road. That was fine with her. At least she was starting to have friends.

  Are you though? Maggie said she would call you, but she could have just said it to be polite. Also, if you’re just friends with Hudson, why do you keep noticing his ass?

  He had a nice ass. She could admire a friend’s ass without making it weird.

  The sound of the rain was very loud and as the minutes ticked by, she grew more impatient. Why the hell didn’t she know how to change a tire? It was one of those life skills that every woman should know and just because her father wasn’t around growing up, it was no excuse. If she knew how to change a tire, she could have changed it by this point and still made the movie.

  Angry now, she quickly Googled how to change a tire and read through the instructions before tossing her phone on the seat.

  She could do this.

  Of course, it would be a hell of a lot better if she had a damn jacket.

  She hesitated, staring at the way the rain beat against the windshield before she straightened her shoulders.

  She could do this.

  She leaned over the seat and lifted the back seat to study the storage area. She made a crow of delight when she discovered the jack kit just like the website said she would. She grabbed it and got out of the truck, slamming the door shut.

  It was only mid-afternoon, but the sky was dark with clouds and the rain made it hard to see. At least the street she was on was deserted, and she wouldn’t get splashed by traffic flying by her.

  She headed to the back of the truck and got down on her hands and knees. Another crow of happiness when she saw the spare tire. She stood and wiped the mud from her hands on the ass of her jeans before crouching and removing the plastic cover beside the license plate. Her entire body was completely soaked, and she was already starting to shiver from the cold, but she inserted the key in the hole and turned it. The lock pulled away from the hole and she set it on the bumper before inspecting the rods that came in the tire changing pouch.

  She grabbed what she hoped was the right one and inserted it into the hole before adding another rod to the end of it. She straightened and stuck the crowbar to the remaining end of the rod.

  “P-p-please work.” She turned the crowbar clockwise, huffing out a curse when it didn’t move.

  “N-n-no, counter-clockwise it said.” She reached into her pocket for her phone to doublecheck, but her pocket was empty. She’d left her phone on the front seat.

  She tried counter-clockwise. “Thank God,” she breathed when it turned. She squinted under the truck, pulling hard on the crowbar. The spare tire was lowering. Slowly, but it was lowering. She rotated the crowbar faster. Once she had the tire on the ground, she could use the jack to –

  “Shit!” The crowbar suddenly refused to turn, and she squatted and squinted at the tire. It wasn’t anywhere close to the ground, and she stood and wrapped her hands around the crowbar before pulling with all of her power. It didn’t move an inch.

  Panting, she let go of the crowbar and wiped the rainwater from her eyes, before taking a deep breath and grabbing the crowbar again. She pulled hard, grunting with the effort. God, what she wouldn’t give for some damn muscles right now.

  She made a mental note to finally join the damn gym.

  “C’mon, you stupid motherfu -”

  She screamed and jerked forward when the hand touched her shoulder. Her shins hit the crowbar with a painful smack and the crowbar fell off the rod and clanked to the ground. She pitched forward, her hands flying up to try and protect herself.

  Before she could eat hard gravel, an arm was around her waist and catching her. It pulled her back into a standing position and she tried to squirm away, screaming again when the arm tightened and refused to let her go.

  “Rosalie, it’s me.”

  The familiar voice made her stiffen and she craned her head to look at the man holding her. “H-hudson?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh my God, you scared me so bad.” She turned and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

  She shouldn’t have - she knew he hated to be touched by her - but the adrenaline and rush of relief had made her almost giddy to see him. Plus, she was freezing cold and he was so warm.

  To her surprise, he didn’t push her away. He patted her back a couple times, but when he moved a little so their lower bodies weren’t touching, she made herself let go and step away. She craved his warmth almost
immediately and wanted to flatten herself against him again.

  Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to smile at him. “Hey, what are you d-doing here?”

  He scowled, and she watched in disbelief as he unzipped his hoodie before handing it to her. “Put this on. Your lips are blue.”

  “You’re g-going to get soaked,” she protested.

  “Put it on, Rosalie.” His scowl deepened.

  She slipped into the hoodie, but her hands were shaking too bad to do up the zipper. With a grunt of annoyance, he zipped it up for her and then pulled the hood up to protect her face.

  “Come on.” He took her hand and led her to his truck that was parked on the other side of the street. She climbed into the passenger side and huddled against the door as he slid behind the wheel. He turned the truck on and blasted the heat on high.

  “How d-did you f-find me?” She asked.

  He shrugged. “Figured you take the same route from home that I do, to get to the theatre. What were you doing out there?”

  “Ch-changing the t-tire.”

  “Where’s your phone?”

  “In my t-truck. Why?”

  “I called you. I called, and I texted you and you didn’t answer me.”

  “I’m sorry.” She pushed the sleeves of his hoodie up so she could hold her hands out in front of the heater. “When you didn’t text me back, I thought you had gone into the movie.”

  “I ran into Judd and was talking to him. I didn’t see your reply text right away.”

  “Oh.”

  “I thought you said you had a tow truck coming.”

  “I did, but it was going to be a couple hours and I didn’t want to wait, so I Googled how to change a tire and -”

  “Googled? You don’t know how to change a tire, but you were still out there changing it?”

  His face was so red, she could almost see the steam rising from the top of his scalp.

  “It didn’t look difficult so I -”

  “You cannot learn how to change a tire from the internet, Rosalie.” He glared at her.

  “Why are you so angry with me?”

  “The next time something like this happens, you call me. If you text and I don’t reply back right away, you either call me or you keep your ass in your truck until I do reply. Is that clear?”

  “I didn’t want to bug you and -”

  “Rosalie!” He leaned across the seat and to her astonishment, cupped her face in a firm grip as he stared down at her. “Stop arguing with me. If anything like this happens again, you are to call me immediately. Do you understand?”

  “I – okay, yeah.”

  “Good.” He let go of her. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to change your tire.”

  “No, I can’t ask you to -”

  “Stop arguing with me.” His voice was as firm and unyielding as his giant body.

  “Fine. Change my stupid tire with your stupid big muscles.” She started to unzip his hoodie to give back to him, but he had already left the truck. She cleared the condensation from the window with the cuff of his sleeve and watched as he easily turned the crowbar to lower the tire the rest of the way.

  “Show off,” she muttered.

  She sighed and huddled deeper into his hoodie. It smelled like him and she buried her face in the crook of her elbow and inhaled. God, one thing about Hudson – the man always smelled delicious. She didn’t know if it was aftershave or just eau-de-polar bear, but whatever the hell it was, it got her motor running.

  Her eyes widened. What was going on with her today? First, she was horny over Lincoln, and now she was acting like a horndog with Hudson. A guy who was even less attracted to her than Lincoln was. Was she purposely torturing herself? At least Lincoln occasionally acted like he was aware that she was a woman. She doubted Hudson would notice her tits if she stripped naked and shook them like maracas. Besides, having lustful thoughts about Hudson when she was in love with Lincoln made her a terrible person.

  Or you just secretly realize how hopeless it is with Lincoln.

  Like going after Hudson is any better. At least Lincoln and I really are friends. The jury is still out on the friendship thing with Hudson, she snapped at her inner voice.

  Hudson is here changing your tire in the pouring rain, he told you that you were friends, but you’re still not sure? Are you really that stupid, girl?

  She ignored her inner voice and peered out the window again. Hudson already had the flat tire off. His t-shirt was clinging to him like he was a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest.

  She watched his back muscles ripple as he threw the flat tire into the bed of her truck. God, he was so strong. As he carried the spare tire to the side of the truck, she wiped away the condensation again and studied his ass. She would have to apologize to him for her comment. He was doing something nice for her and she’d acted like a spoiled brat.

  Hudson crouched and disappeared behind her truck. She turned the heat down and waited patiently. The conversation she just had with Hudson was the most he’d spoken to her in the entire month she’d known him. Normally he grunted out one-word answers, and he never touched her. She brushed her fingers across her cheek. He had spoken in full sentences and touched her.

  Lord, maybe she should check on him. He was probably in the middle of having a stroke.

  He popped back up and gathered up the tools in the jack kit. She slid out of his truck and crossed the road to her truck as he tossed the jack kit into the back seat.

  “Thank you so much.” She had to shout to be heard above the sudden boom of thunder.

  He just nodded and said, “Leave it on,” when she tried to take off his hoodie.

  “Hudson, I -”

  “Go home, Rosalie.”

  She wanted to argue but the rain was falling even harder now and the water was dripping from Hudson’s ears and nose and chin.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Thank you for changing my tire.”

  She climbed into the truck and started it as Hudson trudged across the road and climbed into his own truck. She wasn’t surprised when he followed her home. He did, after all, live in the next complex over. But she was shocked when he pulled into her complex and into the visitor parking spot next to her spot. Neither of them spoke as they walked quickly to the front door of her townhouse. He followed her inside and shut the door. She took off his hoodie and handed it to him.

  “Thank you so much for helping me. I’m sorry I acted like such a brat.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did, and I’m sorry. Could I pay you for fixing the tire?”

  His angry scowl was back. “No.”

  “I’d feel better if you let me do something to -”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “What?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Okay, uh, I could cook you something to eat, if you wanted?”

  “Sure.”

  “Did you want to go home and change first?” She asked. His t-shirt was still clinging to him and she could see water dripping down his neck.

  “It’ll dry.”

  “You’re not cold?”

  “Polar bears don’t get cold.”

  “Right.” She hesitated. “Your jeans don’t seem that wet, but I could put your t-shirt and hoodie in the dryer if you want?”

  “Sure.” He pulled his shirt over his head and held it and the hoodie out to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she croaked, and grabbed the clothes. “Uh, go on into the kitchen and I’ll, uh, take this to the, uh, dryer.”

  She turned and nearly ran down the hallway to the small laundry room tucked near the back door. Mr. Pibbles was in his litter box, and he gave her a look of disdain when she staggered into the room.

  “Mr. Pibbles,” she whispered as the cat scratched around in the litter before climbing out, “don’t freak out, but there’s a half-naked polar bear shifter in the ki
tchen.”

  He rubbed up against her leg, meowing his displeasure at the dampness of her jeans, before leaving the laundry room. She tossed Hudson’s clothes into the dryer, turned it on and then climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

  She changed into a dry t-shirt and jeans before running her hands nervously over her hair. It was drying a bit fuzzy, so she scooped it up into a bun on top of her head and secured it with a few bobby pins.

  She stared at herself in the master bathroom mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, and her chest was rising and falling too fast.

  “Can you blame me,” she whispered to her reflection. “Did you see his six pack? His body was… well, it was really, really nice.”

  She groaned and slapped herself on the forehead. How the hell she ever thought she’d be kinky enough in bed for Lincoln, she’d never know. Even her thoughts were rated PG-13. She’d just seen the most incredible man chest of her life and all she could think was … it was really, really nice? What the hell was wrong with her?

  Okay, but it was really, really nice. He had the perfect amount of chest hair and yeah, he’s big and muscular but not out-of-control steroid abuse muscular, right? His shoulders are so broad and he’s pretty tanned for being a polar bear. Shouldn’t they be like pale or something? And what about that treasure trail? I bet it leads to a really, really nice penis too.

  She smacked herself in the forehead again. She was going crazy. A perfectly acceptable, perfectly reasonable answer to what was happening was that she was going crazy. Being attracted to Hudson was even more stupid than being attracted to Lincoln. Hudson was one hundred percent not attracted to her, not even a little, and just because he had a good body, didn’t mean she had to start thinking he was a candidate for teaching her kinky sex moves.

  Nope, definitely not. Thinking she might try and have sex with someone who flinched when she touched him was a very bad idea. Sexual harassment bad.

  She took one final glance at her reflection before heading back downstairs. She stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, staring in mute shock. Hudson was sitting at the table. Mr. Pibbles, who was standing on the kitchen table, purred loudly and butted his head against Hudson’s chin. Hudson rubbed the cat’s head, and Mr. Pibbles’ purring grew louder.