I stopped just inside the door and my eyes struggled to adjust to the smoky, dimly lit room. The dance floor was alive with people dancing, grinding, and simply swaying to the fast techno beat of the band on stage.
Shots of whiskey, two shots a round, and the social rule was if they buy you a round you buy them one? I could do this. I was an ex-SEAL, I was an American, a proud Nevadan, surely I could hold my own with this motley crew.
Famous last words, tough guy!
Ah, stupid inner voice, fuck me.
Cami
I woke to an insistent ringing in me ears. I lifted me head from the pillow and it felt so heavy that I could swear an elephant was sitting atop me. The terrible ringing continued and I cursed the fact that me parents were gone. Me head was fuzzy and a dull throb began behind me eyelids. Actually, many parts of me body felt achy... I must be farther out of shape than I had feared if one night of dancing made me breasts, stomach, and insides all ache like I had been ran over by a very large, very weighted-down truck.
“Is that the phone ringing?” asked a sleepy voice from behind me.
“Yeah, but I'm just ignorin' it,” I answered and turned over, snuggling back into the pillow I had been sleeping on.
Me eyes popped open and I was greeted by two very wide, very green eyes that were so close I could have licked an eyeball!
“Aaah!” I screeched as I scooted back and prompty fell onto me floor in a tumble of sheets.
I jumped up and put me hands out to steady meself, then I wrapped the sheet around me body and almost screeched again when I realized Dalton was the pillow I had been so comfortably drooling on all night. How does this stuff happen to me? I swear, I should have me own reality televesion show, I’d definitely give those Kardashian bitches a run for it.
I turned around and saw that Dalton had already pulled his jeans on and zipped them up, only leaving the top button open. I tried not to stare at his chest, but love bites covered him from his neck all the way down to his belly button, and I was pretty sure they didn’t stop there. Again? Had he hooked up with Lara again or was it some other slapper this time?
Feeling far too hungover to logically talk meself down from jealous bitch to friend-zone wing man, I stomped over to him and noticed that he looked as shitty as I felt. His face was pale and he seemed unsteady on his feet. No matter, that’s what he gets for getting plastered and hooking up with some club slut!
“Again, Dalton? Who was she this time? One of the waitresses at the bar? Or was it that slutty twat from Liverpool who tried to get you to buy her drinks all night?” He just stared at me like I’d lost me mind. Oh, no way, boyo! Not this time, this time I was going to tear him a new asshole for ripping away all the progress we’d made as friends. I was perfectly okay with the idea of being friends and of him leaving, but seeing him covered in hickeys from some bar skank was askin’ too much.
“Well, can’t even remember her name, she meant so little to you, did she?” I shouted while I poked him in the chest.
A loud banging on me front door made me turn me head toward me bedroom window, but I ignored the urge to see who it was. Most likely it was the postman leaving a parcel at the door.
“To think I was trying me best to show you what a great friend I could be, and you couldn’t even keep it in yer pants until you left Dublin. I bet you don’t even remember who she was… I bet…” I didn’t get to finish, because he lunged forward and whirled me around and marched me before me mirror mounted above me dresser.
I gasped as he yanked the sheet from me body, and me naked body standing in front of him mocked me. I was about to shout at him for yanking me sheet when I noticed red marks, red splotchy marks that looked like… HUH! NO… FUCKING… WAY… The terror must have shown on me face, because he whirled me back around and directed me attention to the bed, which had a small blood smear on the side that I slept on. Me hope that it was simply me starting me monthly slipped away when his hands left me shoulders and he stumbled around the room picking up small packages off the floor. He walked back grim faced and placed them in me hand. I looked down and realized they were condom wrappings - four condom wrappings, to be exact.
Oh boy, oh boy, dear God, I had lost me virginity to Dalton bloody Hudson and I didn’t remember doing it once, much less four fucking times! I stared up at Dalton’s face, which looked equally out of sorts, and let the wrappers fall through me fingers. That’s when I noticed the band, a simple gold band on a finger on me left hand - yeah, the wedding finger.
I opened me mouth to scream when something even more terrifying than waking up in bed with Dalton after a night of sex and somehow getting a ring on me finger sounded through the house…
“Cami, woman, where the hell are ya, doll? I was freezing my ever-expanding ass off out there; thank God UJ keeps the key under the mat just like in Vegas. Cami? Whoo-hoo!”
Synclair! Me cousin was here and she was fecking early! If Synclair was here, that meant that the others were here, too.
Dalton’s look of fear mirrored me own; she would kill him! Not to mention, I hadn’t even addressed the small matter of the ring on me damn finger.
“Get dressed, get out, she can’t find you up here or she’ll fuckin’ murder you,” I told him as I looked for something to cover me naked body with. I grabbed the first article of clothing I came across and pulled it over me head. It must have been Dalton’s turtleneck from last night, because it went all the way down to just above me knees and it smelled like the cologne he wore.
Hearing someone begin to take the stairs, I grabbed Dalton’s shoes, opened the bedroom window, and started pushing him out of it. There was a halfway decent ledge out there; he’d just have to hang from it and drop down. I mean, as long as he landed right, there wouldn’t be any broken bones or anything.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I have no shirt and it’s a fucking second story window, Camille!” he argued as I continued trying to shove him out the bloody window.
“Would you rather Synclair walk into me room and find you here? Naked? With me sheets stained with me virgin blood on view for all to see?” I asked sweetly, letting his own imagination do the work for me.
“A walk - sure, I’ve been known to go for a walk without my shirt here and there,” he retored sarcastically as I shoved the window closed, barely missing his fingers by a breath.
As soon as I slammed the window shut, I threw on a pair of yoga pants, used me hair to cover some of the hickies that showed above the collar of Dalton’s shirt, and threw me sheet on the bed to cover the damning evidence that seemed to mock me. I was about to run out of me room when I saw the condom wrappers on the floor. I scooped them up and ran to me toilet and tossed them in the bin. I made the mistake of looking in the bin as I tossed them in and, just in case me morning wasn’t hellish enough, there lay used condoms. Good Lord, it was like getting caught wearing no underwear in church.
As I was running past me dresser, a folded up paper caught me eyes and I opened it up. It was the marriage petition that I had shoved in me pocket yesterday before we left. It had me signature and Dalton’s, and the date and time a marriage ceremony had been performed. Oh my god, Dalton’s worst fears had been realized and we didn’t even remember it. I saw the signature of the performing priest was Father Simmons and, apparently, at three in the morning we had gotten officially hitched. Hearing the floor at the top of the stairs creek, I pulled the band off and shoved it and the paper in me top drawer, praying that what had been done could be undone before Dalton flipped out and never spoke to me again.
“Coming,” I yelled as I raced out me door and slammed it behind me.
I was moving so fast I almost knocked over Dalton’s sister Rachel as she was moving down the hall toward me room.
“Oh, dear Lord, Rachel, what are ya doing here? I thought you weren’t due in till Wednesday?” I asked, clearly out of breath and trying to keep me hair down around me neck.
The pretty female version of Dalton pulled me into a b
ear hug and smiled when she pulled back. Her shiny black hair was pulled back into a neat pony tail and she was wearing a cute Victoria’s Secret sweatsuit with white tennis shoes that had a VS on the top. Her green eyes caught mine and suddenly I wondered if that "seeing into your soul" thing was a Hudson trait.
She looked me over and yelled down the stairs, “Got her, we’ll be right down.”
She grabbed me hand and began babbling about how they left a day early to avoid a storm that was moving in, that everyone had tried to call me but I wasn’t answering me cell and neither was Dalton. She laughed while she explained that Synclair’s doctor had only agreed to let her make the long trip if she called him every hour from the plane to update her condition. Apparently, Reece had already made arrangments with the hospital here in Dublin for Synclair to have her baby. While I was ecstatic at the thought of seeing me cousin and for her to give birth in Ireland before she returned home, I had a horrible thought that with pregnancy came the very real possibility that when she finally beat Dalton with the baseball bat, she would be batting the strength of two.
“Cami, I thought you’d never wake up, sleepy head,” Synclair teased as I walked slowly down the stairs behind Dalton’s bubbly sister. Considering she was partly to blame for me very official, very signed marriage license upstairs, part of me wanted to kick her butt down the staircase. Och, what? There were only three stairs left, she’d still be a pretty girl - maybe a little dented, but pretty all the same.
I temporarily forgot about me predicament when I came into the living room and there stood me cousin; she was so huge she looked like she swallowed a beach ball, and then swallowed a much larger beach ball after that.
She smiled as she waddled toward me, one hand on her large extended belly and one on her lower back. Poor thing, pregnancy looked bloody uncomfortable.
“I would hug you, but I don’t think I can reach you, Syn!” I joked and, to me horror, tears began to stream down her face. Her pretty hazel eyes showed no signs of stopping as she pulled me into an akward hug.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, you look beautiful,” I told her honestly. She did, she looked beautfiul and happy. She also looked a bit tired, but after a long plane ride I could understand the dark circles under her eyes.
“You smell familiar, cuz,” she told me as she took a huge whiff of Dalton’s shirt. Oops!
"Sara!" I shouted as I moved away from me sniffing cousin and embraced Lucas’s bride-to-be. I had spoken to Sara many times on the phone and Dalton had told me how she had really been like a second mother when his parents had died, so I was genuinely happy to finally meet the woman who had stolen Lucas Hudson’s heart.
“Where’s Logan?” I asked, referring to Sara and Lucas’s son. It’s a long story, but Lucas had just recently discovered that the boy was his and now they were expecting another babe besides. Sara was a little easier to hug, as she was nowhere near as far along as Synclair was.
I turned to see Synclair looking at me thoughtfully. Her red, curly hair was pulled up into a pony tail and, even with no makeup on, the woman was traffic-stoppingly stunning.
“Logan went with his Uncle Matt to pick up his date from the airport; Matt changed her flight too, so she wouldn’t miss the wedding.” Sara explained, wagging her perfect eyebrows up and down.
That go me attention. “Matt’s bringing a date, all the way to Ireland? Must be serious,” I surmised as I urged Sara, Rachel, and Synclair to sit in the sofa and chairs in the room.
“Well, it’s all pretty mysterious because we’ve never met her, Matt won’t talk about her, and Matt hasn’t brought a woman home to meet the family since the time he brought Sally Martin to dinner in the eighth grade!” Sara gushed.
“Synclair, you’ve been on a plane all night, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll wet the kettle?” I suggested, not liking the way she kept staring at me, as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.
Shaking her head, I went to help her sit herself down, and she was almost seated when she popped back up and said, “Dalton… you smell like Dalton’s cologne!” She practically held me hands in a death grip. Jesus, for a pregnant woman, she was fecking strong as an ox.
“I spilled his bottle cleaning up his toilet this morning, you know what a clean freak I am,” I lied. I would no more venture into a man’s bathroom then I would knowingly marry one. Sweet Jesus, I was so fucked.
“Dalton, it’s Dalton!” she yelled as she squeezed me hands so tight they started to go numb.
“That’s his turtleneck; I bought it for him especially for this trip,” Sara added from her seat on the couch.
“Yeah, I got our washing mixed up and thought it was me turtleneck, ya know I’m not used to having a man in the house that isn’t me Da,” I stuttered, hoping that I was making enough sense that they would all drop it.
Just in that moment, the front door opened and in walked Reece and Lucas Hudson. The lads were so big that they made the living room seem claustrophobic.
“Reece, Lucas,” I shouted as I tried to back away from Synclair, but she had me hands in a vice grip.
“Hudson!” Synclair growled in a voice so menacing I felt the hair on me neck stand up on end.
Both Hudsons stepped forward and followed the angry scowl over me cousin and out the living room window. Not wanting to but knowing I had to, I looked over me shoulder and saw Dalton, hanging from me window ledge, no shirt, no shoes, covered in hickies with a "dear Lord, help me" look on his handsome face. His eyes locked with mine and I could feel Synclair shaking with so much anger I was afraid she would break me hands.
Collective gasps and mumbled curses filled the room as Synclair locked eyes with her prey. Me cousin grew up in Las Vegas; it wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t gentle, so when I tell you she could dismantle a man with one stare, trust me, Dalton was counting how fast he could run before she finally caught him.
She let go of me hands and, without breaking eye contact with Dalton, she reached behind her and grabbed her handbag. She ripped it open and pulled out what looked like a lipstick case. Smiling at Dalton in a way that told me he should be staring less and running more, she flicked her wrist and the damn thing expanded into some sort of baton.
“Synclair, you brought a bloody bat in your purse?!” I shouted, trying to rub feeling back in me hands.
“No, it’s a baton; I couldn’t fit the damn bat in my bag, but I’m pretty sure this can do enough damage,” she told me and I couldn’t help but cringe.
I looked back over at Dalton. I couldn’t imagine the strength it took to hang there like that. His eyes were wide as he looked at Synclair like she was an apex predator about to pounce.
“Run, you idiot!” Lucas shouted, and Dalton needed no further urging: he let go of the ledge and fell to the ground will a loud curse. He didn’t stay down, though, he hopped up on his bare feet and took off toward the barn.
Synclair moved past me, making a beeline for the front door. In a strange kind of dance, Lucas made to block the fast-moving pregnant woman, but she faked left and dodged him. Then, in a truly impressive feat, she ducked Reece’s arms as he tried to wrap her in his embrace. He did manage to grab the baton from her hands, but it didn’t slow her down. Just when I thought the quarterback had cleared the field and was making a clear shot for the goal, the door opened and Matt Hudson walked in and, seeing the look on me cousin’s face, quickly swept her up in his arms and carried her back toward Reece like this was an everyday occurrence.
“She’s been a little emotional and moody the last few months, crying, beating the scarecrow in the field to death because he was giving her the stink-eye, all kinds of funny stuff,” Rachel explained as we all watched Reece carry a very angry, very pregnant Synclair back the couch. Lucas helped Sara off the couch as he approached and seated her on his lap as he sat in the chair near the window.
“He doesn’t have to die, Reece, but I do want to hurt him a lot; he’ll be at the wedding, we’ll get him a wheelchair - he’ll ne
ed one when I break his legs,” she swore and Reece grimaced and tried to rub her back soothingly.
“What am I missing here?” Matt asked from the entryway, Logan standing to his left and a pretty, dark-haired woman standing to his right. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here and I could completely relate.
“It’s Dalton,” Rachel answered as she waved Sara’s little boy over to sit on her lap.
“Uh, okay, Dalton. What about him?” Matt asked, looking around at everyone, obviously confused.
“Well, this looks like a big family thing,” the raven-haired woman suddenly said as she took a step back toward the open door.
She looked around the room. Her eyes were as black as midnight and her lashes were so long they reached her cheeks when she blinked.
“Yes, this seems like a private family thing, which is cool, great even, because I don’t have any place… here… in a family thing... because… well, I’m not family, so if you don’t mind, I think I can catch a flight back to Vegas if I hurry,” she stuttered and turned toward the door to make a quick exit.
Matt laughed and looped one arm around her waist and lifted her stiff, pissed-off female body off the ground, then walked casually into the living room, sat in Da’s recliner, and pulled her gently but determinedly onto his lap. The way her back stiffened and she held herself away from him didn’t seem to damper the eejit’s goofy grin.
Synclair snorted from her perch on Reece’s lap. “Sorry, sweetheart, had I known you were going to make a break for it, I would have warned you. From personal experience, once you’re inside the dwelling of these guys,” she gestured to Matt, Lucas, and Reece, “ they will never let you go.” She sighed and rested her head on Reece’s shoulder.
The raven-haired girl’s eyes widened at Synclair’s words, and I really did feel badly for the girl. Matt looked absolutely smitten and I couldn’t remember him ever looking so relaxed. Normally, he was dressed in expensive suits and his hair was so gelled it didn’t move. Yet, there he sat in comfortable-looking jeans, a white v-neck sweater that showed the black t-shirt underneath, and his hair looked like someone had been running their hands through it. Me guess was one raven-haired girl, but she was new to the boistorous clan and I didn’t want to scare her more than she was already.
Lucky Charms: A Hudson Family Series- Book 3- Dalton and Cami Page 25