by Violet Duke
“As highly convincing a sales pitch as that is,” he grinned at her dancing expression, “let’s grab some dinner first. I’m not certain I want to make the decision on whether or not you should groom me on an empty stomach.” Looking around, he was surprised to see the hallway completely deserted. “I thought you said you normally eat with the other guys after your workouts.”
“Normally I do.” She paused meaningfully, with just the tiniest glimmer of heat. “But they all dug out. Something about not wanting to cock-block.”
He returned with a sage nod. “It is written into our guy-code.”
Chuckling, she picked up her gym bag. “So just you and me for dinner then?”
“Sure.” It was always like this with her. Every phone conversation over the past few weeks had been easy, comfortable. The best part of his day. “You got a place in mind?”
“Remember that fusion glass & veggie noodle food truck I told you about? They’re here tonight if you don’t mind eating in the outdoor food court area, which is basically made up of two long, rickety community-style wooden tables with a bunch plastic chairs.”
“Best offer I’ve had all week. Lead the way.” He slipped an arm around her waist without even realizing he was doing it.
And felt her still for just a beat.
Just as he was about to back off and apologize for invading her personal space, she fit herself against his side. Slowly. Almost shyly. Not a snuggle or cuddle per se, but a tentative, content little relaxation of her body against his that was somehow all the sweeter.
God, she was like kryptonite.
All of the superhuman restraint he’d exhibited for the past few weeks were now completely obliterated in her presence.
As they walked over to the circle of food trucks surrounding a cozy little pavilion, Lia pointed to the photo menu in front of the one they were headed toward. Colorful bowls of gem-bright glass noodles garnished with coordinating vegetables julienned noodle-thin, in a dozen HD colors greeted his eyes. After she ordered the day-glow-orange caviar & carrot noodle dish, he ordered the neon green pesto and zucchini one. Then she added on some seasoned short ribs for them to share with a shrugging, “I’m a rabid carnivore,” and stole another little chunk of his heart right then and there.
They grabbed a table and effortlessly slid back into the conversation they’d begun last night before she’d fallen asleep on him over the phone again.
“So yes, my parents were my first kung fu teachers—strictly Southern Wing Chun style, not Northern Shaolin. Some families had a basketball hoop or kicked a soccer ball around out back; we had a traditional Wing Chun wooden dummy in our yard, where we practiced kung-fu every weekend.”
“It’s great that you kept it up all these years.”
Her smile turned down at the corners. “Actually, I stopped for a while after my parents died, but my foster family pushed me to pick it up again later in high school. Then after I graduated, I started studying more MMA styles of fighting.” With a conspiratorial, slightly guilty drop in her voice, she confided, “My foster dad absolutely did not want me studying Muay Thai or Krav Maga. So as far as he knows, I don’t.”
“I take it he’s never seen you fight then.”
“Oh, he has. But Caine keeps reassuring him that what he’s seeing is basic self-defense kung fu and a little Kajukenbo, our little catch-all fighting style we use to explain away anything he sees as remotely MMA.”
Hudson smiled. “It must be nice to have someone worry over you like that.”
She looked up at him and caught his expression. “Do you not? Have someone to worry over you?”
“Not blood-related. Not really. Not in the same way.”
“You’d have it if you’d give some of us a chance,” interrupted a deep voice from behind them.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HUDSON DIDN’T NEED to look up from the table to know who it was. His cousin’s voice hadn’t changed much over the years. He sighed. “How’d you find me, Ben?”
“Your lovely actress friend, Fiona, was kind enough to direct me over here.”
Okay, scratch his earlier assessment. Ben did sound different. He sounded like he just came back from a day on the yacht after a rigorous morning of polo, just in time to shine his cufflinks for a night at the opera.
See, this is what happens when you extract the normal Joe-Schmoes from a guy’s life and leave him surrounded with only the privileged and pretentious. On the other hand, the fact that his cousin was actually wearing jeans—a designer pair though they probably were—gave Hudson a little hope that his influence when they were growing up had permeated a little, despite Ben’s parents’ best efforts.
“You? Consorting with entertainers outside of a fundraising event?” Hudson rolled out a truckload of sarcasm in his tsks. “Now what would Aunt Lorraine and Uncle Robert have to say?”
“Luckily for us all, they’re out in the Hamptons for the spring so we won’t have to find out.”
Was that a hint of defiance in his perfect Stepford cousin’s voice? Interesting. Hudson felt the twitch of a smile touch the corner of his mouth. “Lia, this is my cousin, Ben. Ben, this is my…friend, Lia.”
Now it looked like Lia was holding back an amused smile also.
“Nice to meet you, Ben.”
“Likewise,” replied Ben with a commercial-ready grin and one of those fancy two-handed handshakes.
Nope, still a Stepford. And the charm was positively oozing out of his cousin like stink off a skunk.
Hudson leveled his cousin with a look. “What are you doing here?”
“Like I said, I saw your friend Fiona on set. She remembered me, came over to chat, and directed me here since you haven’t answered any of my calls over the past few months.”
“Not true. I talked to you on the phone two months ago.”
“About your military associate that you referred to me, yes. But you hung up shortly after.”
“I wasn’t a huge fan of the hold music.”
Lia’s lips twitched again.
Okay, so maybe he enjoyed mussing up his cousin’s neatly pressed composure a little more than he needed to. It was way too much fun. Case in point… “Hey, and don’t forget that nice congrats note I sent over to your office last month when you won that big medical award.”
“Yes, thank you for the singing telegram.” Ben’s expression was both amused and exasperated. “The nurses were very, errr, appreciative of the delivery man’s rather impressive…stethoscope.”
At that, Lia burst out laughing.
Hudson leaned over and explained the short version to Lia. “Ben here is one of the best in the field of cardiac surgery, a Harvard man, an avid golfer with a near-pro game, the pride of his parents’ eyes, and the shining example to which I was never able to live up to in my parents’ eyes.” He looked over at Ben. “Did that just about cover the highlights?”
“I’m also a patron of the arts and fluent in three languages,” retorted Ben without missing a beat.
Despite the intense desire Hudson had to accidentally squirt ketchup on his cousin’s crisp white shirt, he had to smile a little over that. Looks like the magic beans he’d planted to help Ben grow a mind of his own years ago had taken root after all.
“And unlike my aunt and uncle,” continued Ben, “I’ve never hesitated to tell all my colleagues about my heroic cousin’s service to his country.”
Well, hell. Rendered speechless by his cousin for the first time in their lives, Hudson wordlessly pulled up a third chair to the table because of course his perfect cousin had been too genteel to sit down uninvited.
A hollered-out order number from the food truck vendor had Lia hopping up quickly, beating Hudson to it. “You two catch up. I’ll go get the food and get some extra bowls and utensils for your cousin.”
When Lia was out of earshot, Hudson turned his attention back to Ben. “If this is about the inheritance, you’re wasting your time. How’d you even know where we were filming? And h
ow’d you get on set?” He was genuinely curious. Seemed a little extreme for his cousin.
“I got in contact with your former commanding officer, who told me where you’re working now. Your boss then got me guest clearance to go on site because, and I quote, ‘He knows what a stubborn ass you are’. Unquote.”
Yeah, that sounded about right.
“That’s when this whirlwind of red hair and over-caffeinated bubbliness came over to find out why I was asking about you. After she got a good look at me, and then proceeded to recall at least three pranks that she’d been involved in helping you pull on me, she told me that you were going to be at a gym in Cactus Creek tonight. From there, I practically didn’t have to ask any questions. The folks here make your friend Fiona seem-laid back on the nosiness scale.”
Lia returned just as Ben confirmed Hudson’s suspicions. “And yes, we need to talk about the inheritance. It’s been six months. Great-Grandfather’s will stipulates that you and I work together to divide up his estate within one year of his death.”
Pivoting quickly after dropping off the food, Lia went off to go get them drinks…from a different food truck on the other side of the pavilion. Criminy, she was cute.
He caught the tail end of some legal details Ben was explaining with a tired sigh. The mere thought of being back at that old mansion again gave him the willies. He’d only gone there once but it would no doubt remind him of all the weekends his parents used to force him to attend society functions when he was younger. It was no wonder he hated wearing suits and gelling his hair. From the year he was able to walk until the age of seven, it seemed all his free time was spent with his hair gelled back and his little suits pressed and buttoned up to his ears.
“Like I keep saying, man, for whatever reason, my father hates your great-granddad. And while he and I don’t see eye to eye on things, if my father is uncomfortable with the man, I’m not going to shove his nose into this whole inheritance thing. So thanks, but no thanks. I trust you. Just divide the estate up however you want and donate my half to charity. I’ll email you a few I donate to regularly, along with some I’ve been wanting to help out.”
“But the will—”
“I’ll hire a lawyer to attend as my proxy if needed but it would save me a lot of money if you could just take care of it and send me the papers to sign.”
“If you took even a fraction of what great-grandfather left you, you wouldn’t have to scrimp and save for a good part of your adult life.”
Hudson shrugged. “I like working for my money. And like I said, while ‘great-grandfather’ may have been great to you and your dad, he was apparently pretty awful to mine. I’m not taking money built off the grave of a broken relationship that was apparently unfixable. Please offer my condolences to your family, and respect my wishes on this. We don’t have to make this into a big joint-family thing.”
“This is a joint-family thing.”
Hudson was surprised at how deflated Ben looked at the moment.
“Ben, what’s the big deal? Your dad and my dad are the sons of estranged half-brothers. I know stray puppies with stronger blood ties than what we have. It was nice to be included in something from that side of the family for once but you’re not going to change my mind on this.”
“I thought this would finally be a way for us to reconnect,” admitted Ben, quietly.
Hudson did a double take. “Are you serious? That’s why you’ve been hounding me all these months?”
“Well…yeah.”
Hudson couldn’t help but grin over that just-barely-a-slang-word that managed to slip through.
“Dude, you’ve been going about this all wrong. All you had to do was call me up and ask to go catch a game—not golf—or get some beers—not cognac. Did you really think starting off every voicemail with a line about how much money the relative my dad hates left me was the best way for us to reconnect?” He tsked. “What are they teaching you in those Ivy League schools?”
The crack in Ben’s composure widened even more as he frowned in embarrassment. “I guess that was rather presumptuous of me to think money would be the only way to convince you.”
“Hell, I’m a cheap date. I’d take two ten-buck pitchers of beer and some bottomless peanuts over several million dollars of antiques any day.”
Lia approached the table again at a snail’s pace. “Is it okay for me to sit now?”
“Sure,” said Hudson. “Ben and I were done catching up.”
Ben tilted his head at the not-so-subtle suggestion that he leave, and Hudson was positive he didn’t like that new little gleam in his eyes.
“Actually, I can stay for few bites,” replied Ben with a grin. “These noodles look delicious.”
Of all the days for the man to finally grow a pair.
Hudson grunted and proceeded to sit through what was no longer a nice date, thanks to his annoying cousin and his elephant-like memory.
A half hour later, Lia was shooting Hudson another playfully scandalized look. Her fifth one of the night. “I swear, you and Gabe need to exchange notes. The pranks you’ve pulled on your cousin are kind of legendary.”
“To be fair, I only pulled pranks on Ben,” he defended. “And they were all just to get him to loosen up a little. Get dirty and color outside the lines for a change.”
“Speaking of getting dirty…” began Ben.
Hudson didn’t stick around for the story he knew would be causing scandalized look number six from Lia. He grabbed their water cups to go refill them at the cooler on the other end of the pavilion. The story was kind of a long one.
He was just sitting back down when one of the truck vendors hollered out, “Owner of a silver Mercedes with a St. Joseph Hospital license cover, your lights are on.”
Ben’s shoulders started shaking. “I’m flattered you could pick out my car out of a full parking lot.”
Hudson tossed him an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But if that’s your car, you’d better go take care of that. You wouldn’t want to have a dead battery tomorrow before your tee time. Those early morning balls aren’t going to hit themselves you know.”
Lia just shook her head and sipped at her refilled water cup.
Ben leaned down to give Lia a polite peck on the cheek. “It was lovely to make your acquaintance, Lia.”
Hudson felt his back molars grind together.
At the twinkle in Ben’s eyes, he’d noticed. “I’ll call you later, Hudson,” he promised. “You’re right. It was way more fun catching up like this than over some stuffy antiques.”
It actually had been sort of, kind of, semi-fun getting to know his cousin again.
Not that he’d ever admit to such a thing without a court order.
“I like him,” commented Lia after Ben and his Mercedes were out of sight. She gathered up their empty plates to dump them in the trash. “He brings out a different side of you.”
“Ben was always a good kid. I just used to mess with him every once in a while to make sure he kept loose.” Even though he was parked in the opposite direction, he followed her as they strolled through town.
“He mentioned you always used to defend him whenever other kids would pick on him.”
“Yeah well, he used to be a scrawny thing. If he got beaten up, I wouldn’t have anyone to mess with anymore.”
“He says you taught him how to ride motorcycles.”
“Strictly to piss off his parents.”
She chuckled. “Do you still ride?”
“Yes and no. I have a Triumph Rocket Roadster back in California. But I can’t take her out much anymore.”
Looking down at his hands, she frowned sympathetically. “Right, because of your hands. I’m sorry, that must be tough. I’ve noticed you flex them a lot like they’re in pain.”
He liked how she didn’t tip-toe around it. She was direct and to the point, without bashing the point through with a big ole mallet like Fiona did.
“My left one is
usually in pain. My right, I think I flex to try and feel pain.” He didn’t give her the whole sob story, just the highlights of how one didn’t work right and the other didn’t feel right. “So yeah, braking and working the clutch on my bike isn’t exactly easy.”
They stopped walking and he noticed finally that they were at the stairwell that led up to her apartment.
“You can ride double with me,” she offered. “I could help you work the throttle and the brake.”
Imagining Lia either in his lap or plastered to his back with her arms around him on his bike had him admitting without thinking, “Honey, if I were riding double with you, I can guarantee you that any control over braking and the throttle whatsoever would not be a possibility.”
She got quiet.
Him and his big mouth. “I was kidding, sweetie. We can ride anytime.”
The feeling of a hand on his arm stopped his words.
“Hudson?”
Her dark, expressive eyes were as good as an open book at the moment.
“Yeah, sweetie?” He had to actively try not to reach out and drag her into his arms.
“Where were you planning on staying tonight?”
Good question. He’d just been focused on seeing Lia; he hadn’t thought about it at all. He shrugged. “I can go find a hotel, or worse comes to worse I keep a sleeping bag in my jeep so I can just roll it out at the campgrounds a little north of here.”
“That’s silly. Just stay at my place again.”
He grinned and teased, “If you think you can keep the sex noises down this time, sure. Your couch was pretty comfortable.”
She turned and walked backward up her stairwell then, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “After all the flirty little things you’ve let slip in at the end of our phone conversations, you’re seriously telling me that my sofa is where you want to sleep tonight?”
Suddenly, he was jumping out of a chopper without a parachute, her innocent questions taking on a bigger meaning he’d missed entirely. His gaze tangled with hers. “We both know the answer to that, sweetheart. Just like we both know why the couch is where I’ll be staying firmly planted until morning.”