Lucky Charms: A Hudson Family Series- Book 3- Dalton and Cami

by Chontelle Brison

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said, I could tell he meant it too, I just wasn’t ready to let it go.

  I shrugged hoping he would think I no longer cared, “It’s fine Hudson, get back in the car, I walk home lots of times. I’m from Dublin to me the rain is just like taking a shower with me clothes on,” I realized my mistake the moment the words came out of me mouth.

  Something in his expression changed and his eyes went liquid jade as he took both his hands, grabbed my bottom and before I could even protest, he pushed between me legs and dragged me flush with his lower half. I instinctively wrapped my legs around him as I waited to see what he would do next.

  I didn’t have to wait long, as I opened my mouth to blast him for being so familiar with me, his full lips crashed onto mine. Panicked I clamped my lips shut refusing to give into the pull of his seductive mouth. He didn’t stop, though, damn but the man was patient. He took his time kissing the corners of my lips, me cheek, and me neck. He nibbled my bottom lip actually sucking it into his mouth in a move so erotic that it made me groan with wanting. I was so lost in me lust that I didn’t even get sick or scared, as I did when Sean touched me.

  The groaning was me fecking undoing, as soon as me lips parted he was there, plunging his tongue deep into me mouth, he teased my tongue with his, sucked on it until it gave in and met him in what can only be called, the most intense kiss of me life. By the time, he pulled back I was dazed and felt a little overheated.

  He smiled at me, and I knew I was in trouble, “See you’re not frigid, you just needed someone who knew what they were doing,” he announced like he had just found the cure to fecking cancer.

  Whatever daze I was in vanished and I shoved away from him, then jumped off the car. “You bastard, you were just fooling me? Just testing to see if what Tara had told you was true?” I shouted, glad the rain had stopped.

  For a moment, Dalton looked shell-shocked, “I thought you’d be happy to know you're not frigid,” he replied looking genuinely confused.

  Did he really think I would thank him for giving me the best kiss of my life, only to find out that like always I had been tricked?

  All Dalton cared about was patting himself on the back with the notion that he had cured me of me frigidity problem. Well bully for him, I hated him, I hated his smug face, his ridiculous dimples, and his hard abs, they were all window dressing for the arsehole that lay beneath.

  “Fuck you, Hudson.”

  “Whoa, you name the place sweetness.”

  “I would never shag you, you arrogant arse,” I screeched.

  “Never is a long time,” he answered calmly.

  “Not long enough when it comes to you,” I yelled as I once again took off walking toward me house. There, let him explain to me Ma and Da where I was and why I was walking home in the rain instead of showing up with him in me car.

  “You are not walking home,” he told me as he grasped my arm again.

  I twisted around and kicked him hard in his shin. It was enough to make him let me go and I took off running. I hate running, I detest the bouncing, the sweating, and the whole messy business.

  I had not gotten very far when Dalton ran past me, swung around and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Some Irish people hate potatoes; since some of our ancestors were poor potato farmers, and there was that whole famine because the potatoes had gone rotten, so being dealt with like a sack of bloody potatoes was bloody maddening!

  “Put me down you bloody yank!” I shrieked as I kicked my legs and slapped his back.

  “No,” came his sharp reply as he stomped back to me car.

  “I mean it Hudson, put me down right now, or I am going to rip your testicles off and deliver them to you for supper,” I was thoroughly pissed now.

  The bloody ass laughed,“Violent much kitten?”

  “Kitten? Who are you calling a kitten you wanker?”

  “You, your fists are so small, they’re like a tiny kitten, it’s adorable,” he explained as he opened the back door of my car and yanked out his duffle bag with one hand.

  He set it on the boot of me car, not seeming to mind the fact that it was getting all wet. I heard him grab something from his sack, zip it up and fling it back in the seat and shut the door.

  “I am not cute! You gobshite,” I screeched.

  He set me on the passenger side of the car so swiftly that my head spun from being upside down. By the time I got me bearings, I saw he had taken neckties and strapped my person to the bloody seat. Struggling against the restraints, I wiggled and shouted until I exhausted myself.

  “You’re right you’re not adorable, you are a hot fucking goddess, and I look forward to introducing you to yourself, later, once I’m dry and have been fed,” he informed me. He kissed me on the forehead as I stared at him like his was mad.

  Before I knew it, he was behind the wheel and pulling back onto the pavement. You could have bowled me over with a flippin’ feather when he started singing brown-eyed girl except exchanging the brown for blue.

  I was furious, I was pissed, I was so turned on that I had to slap me legs together to help ease the ache of my traitorous girly parts.This never happened, my parts don’t get turned not even when I use my vibrator, they just wake up enough to give me a little orgasmic release and the fall back to sleep. It was all this bastard’s fault. I despised him, I loathed the way he made me feel. If he thought he was going to break through the walls that I had spent five years building, he was going to find out us Irish were more formidable than that. We didn’t have Irish castles that had been standing since the eleventh century because we were lax on building defenses.

  Bloody Dalton Hudson has no idea who he’s dealing with!

  Dalton

  It didn’t take me long to find the bright yellow mailbox with the name McDougall crossed out on it, and Patrick scrawled over it in black lettering. It almost made me laugh. I was screwed and I knew it. How was I going to explain to Jack that I had his daughter tied up in the passenger seat of her own car after I had popped her ex-douchebag in the face?

  Honestly, I know it sounds odd, but I have never had a woman rebuff my charm before. Hell, women ran toward me not away from me. More time than most it was me telling a woman that I just wanted something casual. I couldn’t quite figure out what it was about the angry, smurf sized girl next to me but she both aroused and frustrated me all at the same time. When I told Reece, I’d come to Dublin and build Camille’s gazebo design, part of me felt like if I spent some time with her I could purge her from my system. Shit, I hadn’t had sex with anyone in months. That never happens! Never! I thought I might be getting my groove back on the plane with Tara until I realized what a deranged bitch she was.

  Lately, every time I thought about having sex with a woman, Camille’s face popped into my mind. Yeah, it was becoming a real problem. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t fly to Dublin to seduce Camille. Nope, nope, nope, actually I had been forbidden from seducing her from my big brother Reece. I believe his words were, and I quote, “Dalton do not even think about sleeping with Synclair’s cousin, or I will personally cut off the offending appendage you call your dick, put it in a blender and feed it to you through a straw.”

  Actually, I was kind of impressed with Reece’s imagery. Who knew he had that kind of imagination. Still, when Tara told me that everyone thought Camille was frigid I almost blew a gasket. They were wrong, all of them. That kiss on the road back there just confirmed it. Camille wasn’t frigid, she was scared, had been hurt by her last dickhead boyfriend and had built the whole thing up in her head. All she needed was someone to treat her like the sensual, beautiful woman that she was. That happened to be my specialty. It was what I had always been good at. Some people are good at sports like Lucas, or great with numbers like my brother Matt is; I’ve always had a way with the ladies.

  I think it started back when I first kissed Kelly Tucker in the sandbox in Kindergarten. We were just building sandcastles, and s
he smiled up at me with the happiest grin. I don’t even know why I did it, but I reached over and kissed her cheek. Of course, she grabbed a handful of sand, straddled my chest and forced me to eat it, but for those few seconds that my lips brushed her cheeks I felt her smile. That was it that was all it took. I’ve just always had instincts when it came to saying what a woman needed to hear.

  Now wait, before you get all judgy with me, I’m not an asshole. I treat everyone woman I “date” with respect, reverence, fun, a ratio of three orgasms for every one of mine and I am ALWAYS upfront about the fact that I am looking for something casual, not serious. Hold on, whoa… yeah, you… I see you sitting there mouthing the word, douchebag… uh uh… I am also completely monogamous to whomever I am seeing for however long I am seeing them, but I don’t spend the night, and I always use a condom.

  Yep, after my brother Reece got tricked by the evil succubus, Amber, into thinking she had gotten pregnant by him, I realized the whole, “don’t worry I’m on the pill” line was not enough for me. I don’t want any Dalton Juniors running around.

  Don’t get me wrong, I am totally open to love, marriage, kids and the whole nine yards. I’m sure someday have exhausted my way through the billion or so women of the world, I’ll get bored and look for something serious. No, I don’t have any intimacy issues, and I’m not messed up from all the ugly shit I saw during my service as a SEAL. When I meet the right woman, I’ll know it and bam… just like that, my bedhopping days will be over.

  However, until that time comes, I plan to enjoy my life, and that includes the women who may pass through it. Okay, you can commence with calling me a dog now, I’ll just have to win you over with my rapier wit and blindingly white smile, courtesy of those handy Crest Whitening strips.

  Turning down the gravel driveway, I took in the comfortable looking farmhouse. I’m not sure if I can even describe how awesome it is, but I’ll give it a shot. The house didn’t have a wooden fence like the ranch back home, this had a crude looking wall perimeter made of stacked flat rocks. There was green grass everywhere that swayed with the wind, there were two cows, yes I said cows, grazing near the front of the house. The house itself was rectangular in shape, it looked to be a typical Irish homestead. It was two levels with four windows on the top level and four matching windows on the bottom level with a sloping A-line roof to help with snow accumulation.

  Looking at the beautiful home with flowers that lined the pathway to the door and stark white color of the house, it seemed like a cross between Little House on the Prairie and Downtown Abbey. I loved it, the character, the healthy vines that wrapped around a large wood trellis that crept its way up from the base of the house to the bottom sill of one of the windows on the second floor. I could almost image in a teenage Camille, crawling down that trellis to me some love-sick boy. Glancing over at my unusually quiet passenger, I scratched that idea. It was more likely she planted that thorny looking vine to ward off love sick fools from climbing in her window. Sigh.

  “Yer fecking lucky I’m restrained in me seat Dalton, cause as soon as I’m free I’m goin’ to bust yer cranium!” the little hellion screeched at me.

  I gotta admit she was freaking adorable. I was pretty sure she had just threatened to bash my head in, but her Irish accent just made the threat sound cute and endearing. However, I suppressed my smile because the last thing I wanted was for her to go all screechy on me again. I mean, my ears can only take so much.

  Still, she was a cute thing. Camille has long, shiny reddish brown hair that reaches way past her shoulders. Today she has it back in a headband, but my hands are really itching to take it off. Her big blue eyes shone with the promise of payback, and her freckled cheeks were flushed with anger. I was pretty sure she wasn’t even wearing makeup. The fact that she still got my dick hard enough to hammer nails through a two by four (Obviously in theory only because… I mean… Ouch; come on people, bloodthirsty aren’t ya) tells you how damn sexy this woman is.

  “Camille,” I began as I pulled the clown car to a stop in front of a small carport, “I think we got off on the wrong foot, how about I untie you, and we start over, friends?”

  I got my answer in the way of a look that told me where I could shove the olive branch I had just extended. Okaaaay then!

  “Go fuck yerself sideways why dontcha!” she growled at me.

  I ran a tired hand through my short hair. I didn’t want to spend the next few weeks arguing with Camille. I had meant what I had said, I had every intention of coaxing the sexy hellion buried deep inside those Irish insults out into the open. Not with sex, that’s a big HELL No. I am very attached my penis, thank you, and if I screw around with Synclair’s cousin, my future sister-in-law will beat me to death. Hey, don’t laugh, you’ve never seen what the woman can do with a baseball bat, seriously I think she’s part Gorilla with the way she beats things.

  Okay, don’t tell her I said that she might cut me off from those delicious cinnamon rolls she makes in the morning and that would definitely make me consider ending it all. So, while I can’t actually seduce the sexpot out of Camille, I was definitely open to some hot make-out sessions and even a little heavy petting, all in the name of helping Camille, of course. Yeah, I know, we’re back to me being a dog again, right? Yeesh, such a tough crowd!

  Unfortunately, I was left with a small problem. If I didn’t go up to the front door and greet Jack and Camille’s mother, they would no doubt come out here to see what the holdup was. If I am correct, as soon as Camille gets loose she’s going to find the first sharp or even blunt object and aim for my head. I’m sure bashing in either of my brains would make her happy. Deciding to buy some time, I shut off the car, stepped out and grabbed my bag from the back seat. I rounded the car and opened her door and fought the smile that trying to escape my lips.

  The woman was really pissed, like take my head off angry, and I have no idea why that amused me so much. I should be terrified. Instead, it just made me more convinced that there was no way this woman was frigid. Frigid would imply cold, unfeeling and distant. This woman was hot, passionate and her scent was so up in my personal space that I couldn’t inhale without breathing in her lilac-scented self.

  I crouched down in the open door and grabbed her small fisted hand. I uncurled her fingers and threaded mine with hers. I ignored the weird current that seemed to go through me when I touched her and tried one last time to start over.

  “Come on Camille, we’re going to be together for the next few weeks, shit we’re practically family.”

  She looked down at our intertwined hands and seemed to be considering what I was saying. After what felt like a lifetime, she slowly raised her blue eyes to mine and smirked.

  “Do ya always stick yer tongue down yer family’s throat? You perv!” She hissed as she made the air quotes when she said, “family”.

  “Air quotes, you air quoted me? Okay sweetheart, you can be mad all you want, but you went up in flames the second my lips touched yours.” When all she could do was gape at me, I knew I had her. Camille may be angry with herself for enjoying that kiss but she wasn’t a liar, and I knew her silence was her way of refusing to admit anything.

  I reached behind the seat and loosened the ties just enough that if she struggled she could wriggle them off in no time. With a quick kiss on her forehead, I slammed the car door and walked up the steps, wondering how long it would take her to wriggle free and kill me.

  I hadn’t even made it up to the porch before the large, wooden door swung open and I was pulled into a crushing bear hug by Jack Patrick.

  “Dalton Hudson, I’m so glad you could come all the way to Dublin,” he greeted me like a long-lost nephew. You had to love the guy. He was probably in his sixties and still had such life to those blue eyes that I was convinced the man would live to be a hundred.

  I didn’t know all the complicated facts surrounding the fact that Jack was now living with Camille and her mother after being estranged from them for over a decade. I di
d know that even while Jack was in Las Vegas running his bar with Synclair that he had made every effort to have Camille spend summers and school breaks with him. Synclair had told me that Camille’s step-dad, Walter, had left Camille’s mother about a year ago after he found out that he had fathered a son that was only a few years older than Camille.

  Apparently, the whole reason he insisted on raising Camille when her mom had found out she was pregnant was that he had gotten some rare illness that had left him sterile. Fearing he would never have a child of his own, he begged Camille’s mother not to leave him for, Jack, who I guess she was in love with. Long story short, it seems Walt had fathered a son from a one-night stand before he met Camille’s mother but didn’t find out until a few years back.

  It really pissed me off when Synclair explained to me that Walt had basically dropped Camille and her mother like a hot potato when he realized he actually had a shot at being a father to his son. It was all kinds of fucked up and I wanted to know all the details. However, first, I would have to get Camille to trust me more and want to kill me less.

  “Hey Jack, it’s great to see you, sir. You look healthy and happy,” I told him.

  It was true, the last time I had seen Jack Patrick, he had been sitting in my family’s living room conspiring with my brother Reece to get Synclair to stay in Carson City. He had only been out of the hospital a few days and he had seemed tired and pale. I couldn’t blame the man, if someone had tried to burn down my bar with me in it and I had ingested as much smoke as he had, I would have been pale and tired too.

  “Ugh, what’s with the sir crap? We’re family Dalton unless Synclair has changed her mind, please tell me she hasn’t,” he implored me as he drew me into the house.

  I laughed, “No, she’s still marrying my idiot brother, why I have no idea, but apparently she loves jerk,” I told him smiling. It was the truth, Synclair loved Reece, you could see it every time she looked at him. Reece for his part adored the woman, so much it scared the hell out of him. He was constantly trying to protect her from everything, that instinct was made worse now that Synclair was only a few months from giving birth. I was sure he was driving her crazy back home.