I always assumed they made people look better on TV with make-up … Photoshop … some kind of fake shit, but that notion is slipping further into the dust with every step she moves in closer.
Straight hair the color of coal flows down her shoulders and over her chest, framing a heart-shaped face with only minimal make-up. White, skin-tight jeans that show off her endless curves stop only a few inches away from her ankles, and the black silk tank hanging loose on her shoulders gives me a glimpse of skin the color of honey that I’m sure feels even smoother. Her wide set, cocoa brown eyes are warm. Her smile is inviting.
But her attractiveness doesn’t change my opinion of her. She might be gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean she’s a good person. Cameron has read me stories from her gossip magazines about Stella being a spoiled diva who expects people to jump when she hollers. There have been times it’s been difficult for Dallas to come home for the holidays because of her hectic schedule.
That shit won’t fly with me.
I’ll work for her, but I won’t be ordered around like a dog.
She pushes out her sun-kissed hand complete with a pink manicure when she reaches me. “Hudson, thank you for coming.” Her voice is flat, telling me I’m not the only one unexcited for this arrangement.
I shake her hand–her soft palm causing friction against my calloused one. “No problem.” My answer is as flat as hers.
She jerks her head towards the petite redhead at her side that looks about the same age as her. She’s dressed more comfortably than Ms. Hollywood–wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a black t-shirt that says Go Fuck Your Selfie. “This is my assistant, Willow.”
Willow smiles, giving me a friendly wave before clapping her hands. She gestures between Stella and me, either not noticing the awkward tension or choosing to ignore it. “Now that the introductions are out of the way, we’ve got shit to do. You two are going to be spending a lot of time together, and I want to make sure you take care of my girl.”
Stella flinches.
Sounds like a damn nightmare to the both of us.
Chapter 3
Stella
Oh fuck.
Not good. Not good.
I am so screwed.
My new bodyguard is …
I’m unable to even think of the right words to describe him.
Mouth watering?
I laugh to myself.
I couldn’t come up with something more original and less lame than that?
Sexy. Masculine. Dominating.
Unfortunately, all humans with a penis are off limits to me right now.
Hudson is built, muscles aplenty, but not like the men who spend forty hours a week lifting weights at the gym to score the perfect six-pack for their next Instagram post. He’s sturdy – giving off the tough demeanor effortlessly.
Someone would be bat shit crazy to mess with him, which is exactly what I need in a bodyguard. He’s taller than Dallas, around six five, I’m guessing. His ash brown hair is short in the front and buzzed on the sides. A military cut. He didn’t dress up for the occasion–wearing a pair of old jeans complete with worn holes, a white tee, and beat-up boots.
We’ve yet to have an actual conversation, but I already feel safe with him.
The downside is that I’m certain he’s not my biggest fan. The grimace on his face tells me he’d rather be anywhere but here. I’m obviously not his dream boss. So in return, I’m giving him what he’s giving me–an aloof smile, my head held high, and not much more conversation.
Dallas has told me plenty about Hudson. He’s a small town boy who’s spent the last eight years serving our country. He isn’t into the whole Hollywood buzz and has called his brother a dumbass for working for me countless times.
He must’ve been desperate to take this job.
I wave goodbye to Jim, and Hudson joins Willow and me in the dining room. We get straight down to business as soon as we take our seats.
“Willow will keep you up to speed on my schedule,” I inform him.
As if on cue, Willow hands him a folder and starts to explain everything. “All of the information you’ll need is in here. Contact numbers and emails. A blueprint of the house, details of where you’ll be traveling, as well as the hotels you’re staying at.”
She keeps going while Hudson listens, nodding his head silently.
“How long have you been in the bodyguard business?” she asks. “I noticed Dallas didn’t list any references. He actually didn’t give me any information on you other than the fact that you’re his brother.”
“First time,” he answers, his voice rough.
“What?” Willow cries out.
She looks over at me in shock. I knew I’d get this reaction, which is why I never shared that tidbit of information with her. Unlike her and everyone else, I trust Dallas’ word.
Her attention goes back to Hudson. “So you’ve never worked in this field before?”
I suck in a breath when he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and not looking phased at Willow’s concern whatsoever.
“I haven’t been a bodyguard, but I do have the experience of fighting for my country, providing security at embassies, and putting my life on the line every day for the safety of others,” he says. “I think that should be enough training for this job. I pay attention to every movement around me, and my mind is always on the job. Always. And if it makes you feel better, I’m only here until you find someone more qualified to replace me.”
We both stare at him stunned and speechless.
Holy fucking hotness.
That’s a damn good answer.
“He’s cute,” Willow says when we’re alone in my bedroom.
We showed Hudson his room and left him to unpack his bag … and hopefully take a happy pill to get out of his cranky mood.
She holds up a finger. “Correction. He’s not cute. Cute is how you describe a three-year-old freckled kid. That guy is a whole lot of man hotness. All man hotness.”
Willow isn’t only my assistant, she’s also my best friend. I can count on her more than anyone. She always has my back and won’t bullshit me when she thinks I’m doing something stupid. Frankly, she doesn’t kiss my ass like most people do.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t go there.”
“It’s time to move on from that douchebag.”
“I have moved on from Knox. When I found out he bought a new house and moved that pink-haired chick in, it was my reality check. My final dose of get the fuck over it. He and I knew we weren’t meant to be together but were too comfortable with each other to actually cut the cord. He isn’t the reason I’m saying don’t go there. My situation is. I can’t fuck around with my security guard. You know mixing business with pleasure is a big no-no in my book. Not to mention, the dude looks like he can’t even stand the sight of me.”
She climbs onto my bed and sits across from me. “True, I’m not sure what’s up his ass, either, but maybe he’ll warm up. Just because he works for you doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.” She wiggles her shoulders back and forth. “You need to get laid before cobwebs start forming down there. Lack of dick is also making you very irritable. Get some dick. Grow a smile. Just like he said he does his job, I’m sure he gives one-hundred percent in the bedroom.”
I throw my head back to stop myself from laughing. “Why am I friends with you again?”
She pumps her hand into the air. “Because I’m Team Get Stella Laid.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Last I heard from Dallas, Hudson is engaged to some long-time girlfriend. They all meet their wives in like third grade around there.”
She frowns. “Well, if you can’t get a piece of him, we need to find you someone else.”
“Reality check. Getting laid in my situation is not only doubtful but stupid.”
She gives me an annoyed glare. “You can bitch about it all you want, but I don’t feel sorry for you. I told you not to do it.”
We�
��ve gone round and round about this.
“It was the best move for my future. My career triumphs relationships and sex. I won’t walk through my door one night and find my career sticking his cock into another chick.”
She rolls her green eyes. “Oh please, you’ll always have plenty of work. You’ve been famous for years because of your acting, your damn talent. Don’t let them assholes tell you otherwise.”
“It’s a big deal migrating from television to movies. I want to be taken seriously and for people to see me beyond being Clementine.”
Clementine Storms was the character I played on my show. She was a geeky girl who found out she was a witch and spent her time experimenting and fucking up every spell and potion she tried.
She snorts. “People aren’t going to take you seriously if word gets out what you’re doing. You’ll be the joke of showbiz. They’ll sever all respect, resulting in you becoming desperate and taking bad roles on the Lifetime channel where your husband plots to kill you.”
I scowl. “I’ll take my chances.”
She’s right. It’ll demolish any credibility I have, which was why I refused at first, but eventually, they broke me down, telling me it was best for my career. I question myself daily on whether I made the right decision since the moment I said yes.
“Can I ask you something?” Hudson asks.
Willow went home twenty minutes ago, so it’s only the two of us now. I just finished giving him the full tour of the house–showing him where the security room is, the placement of all the cameras, and how he has screens in his room as well.
He stayed quiet while filling out his paperwork and signing all of the non-disclosures. I thought maybe he’d open up when she left, but he’s still giving me the cold shoulder.
He’s more intense than his brother. With Dallas, I immediately felt comfortable. He cracked jokes, shared stories about his family, and was an open book. Hudson is distant, glowering, and humorless. He’s locked up with what seems like no key.
“Shoot,” I answer. It’s about damn time he seemed interested in something.
He runs his hand through his hair. “I should’ve asked this earlier.” He pauses and looks around. “What exactly are my duties here? What do I do all day?”
“Like Willow said, be prepared to spend time with me, a lot of time with me. You’ll accompany me everywhere I go. You’ll also travel with me and stay here when I’m home.”
His face shifts into a more guarded expression with my last statement. I can tell Dallas failed to inform him on that tidbit of information.
I shrug. “I like to feel safe.”
“I’ll do my best to keep you that way.” He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. “Have you ever had any situations?”
“Stalker wise?”
He nods.
“Yeah, a few. Most of them were with my old bodyguard. It became less frequent when I hired your brother. He did a good job of scaring the creeps off. Luckily, they never made it close enough to do any damage.”
I’m not sure if his brother told him everything about what this job entails. I’ve been stalked, harassed, and even sent death threats. I do what I love, but that doesn’t mean it’s always safe.
Chapter 4
Hudson
“What the fuck, Dallas? I’m living with this chick?” I hiss as soon as he answers my call.
I want to shove my foot up his ass. It was stupid of me not to ask more questions before hopping my dumbass on a plane to some unknown job.
He chuckles. “I see you made it safe and sound. How was your flight?”
“Shitty. I gave away my first class ticket to some pregnant gal who needed it more than I did. Now answer my question. What the fuck did you get me into?”
I figured I’d be crashing at a hotel, not her house.
“Of course, you stay there. That’s what I did when Lucy moved back home.”
The only reason Dallas took this job was because Lucy wanted to spread her wings and get a taste of life out of Blue Beech. Life wasn’t what she imagined here, so she moved back after getting pregnant with Maven. They somehow managed to keep a long distance relationship since then.
No, I didn’t.
Shows how much I knew.
“Lucy was cool with that?”
“I hope you’re not asking what I think you are. I never fucked around with Stella. I’m a married man. I had the love of my life, so there was no need for anyone else. Strictly platonic between the two of us.”
“How beautiful,” I mutter.
“I got you a kickass job with great pay. A thank you would be nice.”
“Thanks,” I grumble. “So what exactly am I supposed to do here? Hang out with this chick all day and night? I’ll go fucking nuts.”
“It’s not all day and night. If you need time off to do something, ask her. You’ll be spending the next week attending promotional events and screenings for her new movie. Your lucky ass gets to travel and stay in the nicest hotels for free. Quit bitching and enjoy it.”
“Do I have to paint her nails and braid her hair as well?”
“If you’re into that shit, go ahead. She might not be too keen on your offer. This might surprise you, but she’s a pretty private person.”
I scoff. Yeah right. If you make the decision to be famous, you’re choosing to give your privacy up and giving consent to all of your dirty laundry being aired out to the world.
“What did you do with her?” I ask.
Dallas is more of a people person than I am. Maybe he’ll have some decent ideas to get me through this.
“We watched movies. I read. Find something you have in common.”
“We have nothing in common.”
“Stay optimistic. You never know.”
He changes the subject by giving me an update on Lucy and then tells me about Maven starting her first day of school. We talk for a good hour before I hang up to get ready for bed. It’s after eleven, and I’m nowhere near tired, but I don’t know what else to do with myself.
My bedroom is on the main floor and is what I assume the in-law suite. There’s a bathroom, a full kitchenette, and also a space for the computer monitors that show me a view of every camera on the property.
I undress, turn on the TV, and slide into the world’s most comfortable bed. My next three hours are spent tossing and turning. Sleep isn’t coming to me tonight. I get up to grab an Ambien from my bag and open a cabinet for a glass.
Shit.
It’s empty.
I check another one.
Empty again.
I crack open the door and notice all the lights are off. I tiptoe toward the kitchen and make it around the corner at the same time a light flips on and I collide into something … or someone.
“Fuck!” a high-pitched voice screams.
I stumble back to find Stella standing in front of me with her hand settled on her chest as she takes in deep breaths.
“You scared the living shit out of me,” she says, in-between pants.
It looks bad, but I can’t stop myself from sweeping my gaze down her body and appreciating the view she’s giving me. My dick is enjoying it as well. Purple silk shorts small enough to be considered panties stop at the base of her thighs. Lace wraps around the edges, and my hands itch with a need to run my fingers over it.
A matching tank stops above her belly button, showing off the tan of her hips and a blue belly-button ring. She has curves for days that I could explore for even longer. Every trace of makeup is gone. Her hair is in a messy ponytail at the top of her head, a few tendrils sweeping in front of her wide eyes.
My first day on the job, and she’s already trying to kill me.
“Shit,” I finally stutter out. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be asleep.”
She waves off my apology, but I can tell she’s still startled. “No biggie.” She seems to always be on edge like she’s waiting for a killer to barge through the front door with a chainsaw.
The room falls silent, and I start to get uncomfortable when her eyes drop down my body, not going any further than my cock. She tilts her head to the side as if she’s studying my junk. I understand why when I glance down to see what the problem is.
I’m not wearing anything but boxer briefs.
And they’re not regular boxer briefs.
They’re the ones Dallas gave me as a gag gift last year.
The words Take Me To Your Beaver are written across my cock.
I clear my throat, and it takes a good second before I gain her attention. She can’t hold back the smirk on her face when she finally looks at me.
“Take me to your beaver?” She laughs. “Nice. And here I thought you had no sense of humor. Only on your undies does your hilarity come out.”
“They were a gag gift from my dickhead brother. I didn’t get the chance to go through my clothes when I got home, so I threw random shit into my suitcase.”
That’s a lie.
The truth is that Cameron packed up my belongings, with the exception of all of the furniture, appliances, and electronics I bought, and dropped them off at Dallas’s when she moved Grady in.
“I promise I don’t wear sexual innuendos underneath my clothes daily, or prance around other people’s houses like this.”
She smiles. “Can’t say I’d complain if you did.”
My dick stirs. I decide to reroute this conversation before I end up taking my cock to her beaver.
“There were no glasses in the cabinet,” I tell her.
She points to the fridge. “The kitchen is always open. I don’t think Dallas used that kitchenette once.” She flips on another light, and the kitchen lights up like the Vegas strip. “Can’t sleep?”
I shake my head.
“Me either. I’m putting on some tea. Want a cup?”
“The only kind of tea I drink is laced with sugar and served on ice. Not sure that’ll exactly make me tired.”
She takes the teapot off the stove and starts to fill it up with water before setting it back on the burner. “It’s herbal tea. Chamomile. My insomnia remedy.”
Just One Night Page 25