The Write Bear (Highland Brothers 1)

by Meredith Clarke

  She looked up at the house. The windows glowed with warmth and light. The last thing she wanted to do was climb the stairs again, but she was officially out of options.

  She trudged up the steps, cursing under her breath. She would have to swallow her pride and irritation. Her knuckles rapped on the faded wood.

  “What is it?” The door whipped open. His forehead creased into lines of confusion. “I thought you left.”

  “I tried. My rental car is dead.” She motioned to the driveway where the car was parked.

  “Oh.” He rubbed the side of his face, raking his fingers through thick stubble. “Want me to take a look?”

  Riley blinked. “You’d do that?”

  “Hold on.” He ducked back in the house and emerged with an umbrella, jacket, and a flashlight. “Here.” He handed her the coat and umbrella.

  She didn’t argue, and slid her arms into the oversized coat. She immediately smelled men’s cologne. It had an earthy, but alluring scent as she pulled the collar closer to her neck.

  “Thank you.”

  He shrugged and stomped down the stairs toward the car. “Keys?”

  “Oh here.” Riley placed them in his palm.

  Hudson barely fit behind the wheel of the car. She noticed how he made spaces seem much smaller.

  He turned the key in the ignition, but the car remained silent. He reached for the lever for the hood, popping it with the flick of a finger.

  “I’m going to check something,” he explained. “Hold the flashlight for me there.” He pointed to the center of the car’s undercarriage.

  Riley watched as he inspected the engine. She held the umbrella over his head, careful not to let the rain seep into the car.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s the battery.” Hudson slammed the hood. “I don’t have any jumper cables. And at this hour we’re not going to get a tow truck out here. I doubt the rental company would someone before the morning.”

  “Oh.” Riley bit her lower lip.

  He walked past her and opened the backseat.

  “What are you doing?” she questioned.

  “Taking your stuff back inside. Come on.”

  She watched the man carry her bag as if it were light as a feather.

  “Are you coming?” He stopped at the top of the porch.

  She scrambled through the puddles. “Yep.”

  Once inside Riley realized she had no idea what to do or say next. Nothing was going as planned. Hudson dropped her suitcase next to the stairs. Clearly twenty minutes ago this man wanted nothing to do with her, but now he was stuck with her.

  “You can take your pick of the rooms upstairs.”

  “Thanks. Where do you sleep?” She realized it was none of her business, but she couldn’t stop from asking.

  “The master suite. It’s on the first floor. But I have work to do.” He turned from her, reorganizing the pages that lined the couch. “I won’t be sleeping much tonight.”

  “And I guess the answer is still no about the help? I could stay up with you and go over the chapters.”

  He glared at her. His eyes devastatingly fierce. Riley caught her breath at the depths of darkness. They pulled her in.

  “Oh, all right. Good night.” She heaved her suitcase up the steps, leaving Hudson to stew over his work in progress.

  At the top of the stairs she fumbled for the light switch. It would have been nice if he had at least offered to show her around, but there was no doubt he would rather be alone. She was lucky he hadn’t suggested she sleep in the rental car.

  Riley chose the room at the end of the hall, the one farthest from the staircase. At least she could give Hudson as much space between them as she possibly could. Maybe they both needed it. The man was handsome as hell, but had a rude streak a mile wide.

  The guestroom was warm. Her hand traced over the quilt at the foot of the four-poster bed. She wondered if Hudson had decorated the place himself. Not likely. The writer made a fortune from his books. He probably had a designer choose the colors and accents. She turned to see one side of the room lined by rows of books. She smiled. Books always made her feel more at home.

  Riley had always been a bookworm. From the instant she could string letters into words she had read. Sometimes it was under the covers with a flashlight. Sometimes it was in the closet when her parents were fighting. As she got older she knew the stories gave her an escape. A place where she could dream of another world. A world where hot guys swept you off your feet and fell for the curvy girls. She sighed, looking over the spines.

  She knew what she needed more than anything was a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. The day still clung to her skin and clothes.

  Happy she had chosen one of the rooms with a private bath, she zipped open her suitcase, ruffled through her hastily packed clothes, and tossed a pair of pajamas on the bed. She walked into the bathroom, opened the glass shower door, and turned the water to the hottest setting. She waited for the steam to billow into the room before stepping inside. She felt the droplets bead on her skin and run down her shoulders and back.

  For a moment she reveled in the feeling, forgetting that one story below her was an irritated and unwilling client. She lathered shampoo in her hands, running it through her blond hair before washing the bubbles down the drain.

  She turned the faucet off and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack.

  She ran it over her face and body, enjoying not feeling chilled for once. The weather here was miserable.

  She opened the door to the bedroom and paused in front of the bookshelf.

  “Hmm, let’s see what selections you have here, Mr. Hudson Highland.” She skimmed the shelf, her finger landing on Pride and Prejudice. “A classics man, hmm. He should study up.”

  She clutched the book against her chest and laid it next to the bed. Her pajamas were laid out on the bed, but before she could slide the T-shirt over her head she heard a knock.

  “Shit!” She held the towel to her chest.

  “Can I come in?” Hudson asked.

  The door opened before Riley had a chance to protest. Hudson’s eyes widened when he saw her.

  She flattened her hand against her breast, praying the towel didn’t fall to the ground.

  “I-I didn’t know you weren’t dressed.” His eyed dropped to the floor.

  “It’s all right.” She chewed lightly on her bottom lip. Hudson made the room feel smaller. His giant chest inhaled with a deep breath.

  “I just thought I’d see if you needed anything. But I guess you found the towels and everything.” His eyes had landed on her breasts again, and darted over the curves of her hips. This towel wasn’t hiding a damn thing. Her skin prickled. Holy hell.

  “I’m good.” She smiled. It was involuntary, but her pulse had quickened. She could feel the blood racing in her veins. Not good, she scorned herself. He’s a client. He’s a client. He’s a client. If she said it enough the mantra might work.

  “We’ll get your car fixed in the morning.” He turned for the door.

  “Thank you, Hudson.”

  He turned. She saw it. The spark in his eyes. The way they lingered just a little too long in her direction.

  “Good night.” He hurriedly closed the door.

  Riley faced the bed. “Well, I guess it’s just you and me tonight, Mr. Darcy.”

  3

  Hudson

  Hudson paced in front of the fireplace. Damn it. What was she doing here? His chest rumbled and he tried to quiet the bear within. He had taken one look at her—those plump lips, swelling breasts, and hips that were begging to be touched, and almost lost it on the spot. It didn’t help she had crystal blue eyes that sliced through his soul. What was this woman doing to him?

  Despite his best efforts to hide out from the world in the family estate, she had still found him. A gorgeous, curvy, soft woman had driven in the middle of the night to help him. He buried his face in his hands, trying to erase the image of her barely wrapped in the damp towel.


  “Damn it. Fuck.” He slammed his fist on the mantle, shaking and rattling the pictures of his brothers. He glowered at their smiling faces in the silver frames.

  Fate was cruel and unyielding. The bear in him didn’t care about fate—it only wanted her. But the man in him knew it wasn’t the kind of life to force on humans. Hudson clung to his human side, trying to keep the bear locked away.

  He poured a straight glass of bourbon. The dark amber liquid sloshed as he tossed it down his throat. Sometimes the liquor took the edge off, quieting and calming the bear like a sleeping potion.

  He looked at the ceiling. Ten minutes ago he had heard the water running in the shower and without restraint raced up the stairs. But by the time he knocked on the door, the man in him prevailed. He saw the way she looked at him. Confused. Curious.

  Damn it to hell. She was up there naked and wet. All he could think about was tearing up the steps again and taking her on the bed, rough and powerful, claiming her as his. The way a bear should find his mate.

  It didn’t matter that his heart beat faster when he smelled her. It didn’t matter that his skin prickled at the sound of her voice. The man in him was in control.

  She would leave first thing in the morning and this would be over. He poured a second glass of the bourbon. The bear wasn’t tiring. All it could do was think of her. Hudson closed the screen on the fireplace and walked to his bedroom. He could make it through one night. One night without taking her as his mate.

  * * *

  Riley

  Riley stretched her arms overhead, sending Pride and Prejudice crashing to the floor. She sat up, startled by her surroundings. She had been in the middle of a dream. A dream that was still fuzzy in the corners of her mind, but she wanted to sink under the quilt and bring it back.

  She remembered hot, rough hands canvassing her body. The fire of a tongue between her legs. Oh God, she moaned. No, she wasn’t going to let a crush on Hudson derail her plans. Because that’s what it was—a fucking crush.

  Today wasn’t the day to linger in a cozy bed, she still had a chance to convince the author he needed her help with his book before he sent her packing for the second time.

  She quickly got dressed and walked downstairs.

  There was a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen. She looked around for Hudson, but the house felt quiet. It was as if the air was different when he wasn’t around. Everything felt bigger and empty. There was a loneliness in the kitchen.

  She searched the cabinets for a mug and poured a cup of coffee. Sliding onto one of the barstools, she noticed the manuscript from last night was held together with a binder clip. It was lying on the edge of the counter.

  She checked behind her, craning her neck for any sign of the writer. She plucked the clip from the pages and began skimming the chapters.

  “Hmm,” she muttered, shuffling the pages as she finished each one. He had an interesting approach. The words were engaging, fast-paced, and clever. She smiled, enjoying his unique style. It was hard to believe the smooth passages were crafted by someone so devoid of basic manners.

  The more chapters she read, the more she was pulled into the world he created. She raced through the lines anxious to know what was going to happen next. Hudson was fucking brilliant. It reminded her why she had been a fan of his work for so long. The man could draw her in. He’s a client, she reminded herself, trying not to picture his square jaw or solid chest.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” the gruff voice asked.

  She jumped, sending the neat stack to the floor. “Shit.” She hopped from the barstool, trying to collect the colossal mess she had made.

  “I thought I told you I didn’t want you to read that.” Hudson stooped next to her, extracting the chapters from her hand.

  “You did, but it was just sitting there.” She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? I’m nosey.”

  “Tell me about it,” he huffed, standing next to her.

  She looked at the mountain of a man next to her, her eyes almost level with chest. God, he was the size of giant chiseled quarterback. She realized it was more like two quarterbacks. She tried to steady her breathing.

  She settled back on the barstool, clutching her coffee mug. “Look, why don’t you give me a chance to look it over? It can’t hurt. I signed a confidentiality agreement. I’m not going to mention a word of this to anyone.” She was soft with her words, coaxing him into the idea. “This is what I do.”

  He busied himself next to the coffee pot, pouring the steaming liquid into an oversized mug. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  She waited, hoping he would say she could stay and work through his writing obstacles. If she landed this client, there was a good chance Helen would promote her out of the assistant editor spot. She had been with the company for almost two years with no promotion or pay raise. She needed a new challenge. Although, Hudson qualified as a feat as difficult as climbing Mount Everest.

  The mug touched his lips. Those perfectly full and kissable lips. Riley shook her head, scolding herself for even thinking about his lips. This man was a client. A business colleague. A professional relationship she needed. Lips were off limits. Completely off limits.

  His sigh filled the room. “I’m going to strangle Clyde for this.”

  Riley let a giggle slip, but tried to cover it with her hand. “Is that a yes?”

  He nodded. “But, only on one condition.” He held up a finger.

  “Anything.”

  “You agree to leave if we can’t work together.”

  Her eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It wasn’t the first time she had received pushback from a writer. “That’s not going to happen.”

  His eyes bored into hers. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  “All right. All right.” She put her hands in the air. “I’ll take it. But we’re going to get along great. All my clients love working with me.”

  “Hmm.” He lifted the cup to his mouth again, and Riley had to look away. Right now she was wishing Hudson were a skinny brunette woman with bookish glasses and a pointy nose. Anyone, but this sexy, panty-wetting hunk.

  “I guess I need to call the rental place and see if they can send someone out to take a look at the car.” She tried to remember if she had shoved the rental contract in the glove compartment.

  “I already took care of it.”

  “You did?” she asked, sounding alarmed.

  “It was the battery. I checked the garage and turns out I did have a pair of jumper cables. I got it going after about fifteen minutes.”

  “Wow.” She blinked. Either he was extremely handy and helpful or he had been even more anxious for her to go than she thought. “Thank you.”

  “Not a problem. Easy fix.”

  A man who was good with his hands, and a master with words—he was a dangerous combination. Her nerdy girl side was already hooked on his books, and now the woman in her was drawn to his masculinity. Shit.

  She needed to focus on work. Something other than his sexy face, body, and maleness. “Are you ready to get started?” she asked.

  “Now?”

  “Of course. You’ve got a deadline. It’s my job to make sure you meet the deadline, and produce an amazing book.” For the first time since she had arrived at Highland Manse, she felt the tension ease from her shoulders.

  “No. First we fish.” He placed his mug in the sink and walked past her.

  “Fish?” She hurried after him as he walked down the hall. “We have a book to write.”

  Hudson didn’t seem to mind she was scrambling behind him. He descended into the garage and began collecting fishing gear.

  She stood in disbelief. “You can’t go fishing now. We have a deadline.”

  “Sweetheart, you either come with me and we can talk about the book, or you can stay here. Your choice, but I’m fishing.”

  Riley chewed her bottom lip, debating the o
utcomes of either choice. “All right, I’ll go.” She paused. “Can I fish in this?”

  She was wearing jeans that hugged her fleshy hips and another tank top that dipped low, showing more cleavage. She tugged nervously on the flannel shirt she had added to the ensemble.

  It happened again. Hudson eyed her like a thirsty man anxious to drink. “You can fish in whatever the hell you want.” He turned suddenly. “But you’re going to get wet.”

  The blood rushed to her cheeks. If only he knew. She saw the muscles in his back tense. “Ok, let me just get my notebook and I’ll be ready.”

  She raced inside the house, searching for her messenger bag. The way Hudson looked at her played with her. It made her pulse race, her heart beat faster than it should, but in the next second he acted like she was a complete bother and nuisance. This man had her twisted inside out and they barely knew each other.

  “Keep it together, Riley,” she whispered, gathering her purple pen and notebook in her hands.

  It had been almost a year since her last boyfriend had dumped her. She didn’t know why she had even bothered dating the jerk. He did nothing but complain and criticize. Six months of her life were wasted on an asshole. She vowed that wasn’t going to happen again. She deserved better than a sullen self-absorbed prick. Her eyes drifted to Hudson, thinking he was brooding, moody, and impatient. Even more reasons to stay away from him.

  Hudson was waiting in the driveway, wearing a backpack and holding two fishing poles. It was the first time she had seen the property in the daylight.

  “It’s gorgeous up here,” she remarked. The trees arched toward the clouds, letting bits of sunlight filter at their feet.

  “It’s one of the reasons I like to write here. It’s quiet. No one ever drops in.”

  She stifled a giggle as he looked over his shoulder at her. She was glad he had a sense of humor.

  She fell into a rhythm behind him as they began hiking on a trail on the other side of the garden. He would pause every few yards to make sure she was keeping up. Occasionally, he would hold a branch for her, or offer a hand when there was a steep rock formation or log.