Speechless (Pier 70 #3)

by Nicole Edwards

  Granted, Teague still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Nor did he know how he wanted to handle it. For the first time in his life, Teague wasn’t jumping feetfirst into something. He got the eerie feeling that giving in to Hudson could very well alter his life in ways he wasn’t ready for. Didn’t mean he would actually like the guy, but he could see himself getting addicted to the sex.

  Maybe.

  Then again, Hudson could very well be a huge snore-fest in the sack and Teague would get bored.

  Doubtful but possible.

  “If we get any more appointments, you’ll be the first one I call.” Cam’s gruff voice interrupted Teague’s thoughts, pulling him back to the moment.

  “Awesome. Thanks.”

  Shaking himself out of his weird mood, Teague left Cam and took his time as he made his way down to the dock. He wanted to give Dare a few minutes to share his news with Hudson. Standing around and watching Dare’s excitement would’ve made Teague a little uncomfortable.

  He’d managed to keep busy stacking rope for a good ten minutes when he saw Dare walking back to the main office. At that point, Teague headed over to the boat repair shop. With every step, he felt his tension increase. He wasn’t excited about having to see Hudson face-to-face, or talk to him, or work with him, either. Sometimes the shop didn’t feel big enough to house them both safely. And the place was actually pretty big.

  It was nothing more than a giant steel building with one huge bay door that faced the water, allowing them to bring boats right in when necessary, or for customers to pull them around via the parking lot. On the left side of the building, a paint booth had been installed. Hudson’s little side business of painting boats was evidently doing pretty well. Inside the building were tools galore, along with several industrial-sized fans, lifts, racks, engine stands, and all the other equipment used to repair motors and fiberglass.

  At some point last year, Hudson had divided the shop more evenly so that Teague had his own space, which allowed them to divvy up the jobs. He wasn’t as adept as Hudson in everything, but he was a quick learner, so generally, it only took him studying Hudson for a bit to catch on to something. All in all, he loved the work; it was the company he had some issues with.

  When he stepped into the building, Teague glanced around, searching for Hudson as was normal for him. He was always aware of the guy. Always. And ever since that night on the boat… God, he had such a hard time thinking about that night without a foreign sense of anticipation filling him. He had yet to broach the subject with Hudson, and at this point, with a week having passed since the offer, he wasn’t even sure if he could accept now. The only good thing—if it could even be considered that—was that he hadn’t had a single drink in almost seven full days.

  Now, he wouldn’t go so far as to say he was an alcoholic, but he couldn’t deny that he used alcohol to numb himself. It’d been a crutch for a long time, one that wasn’t easy to kick, but he’d managed.

  Hudson stepped out of the small office, his gaze zeroing in on Teague instantly. He felt the intensity radiating from Hudson, something that wasn’t new, nor was it unfamiliar, but it hit him the same as it always did. Whenever they were in the same room—especially when they were alone—Teague felt like Hudson was a jungle cat and he was the prey. As though any second now, he was going to be pounced on. Only that had never happened.

  And when Hudson turned around and returned to the office, effectively brushing him off, Teague didn’t think today was going to be any different.

  Except maybe it was, because for the first time all week, he felt the anger begin to bubble up from within. And it looked as though Hudson was about to be his outlet.

  HUDSON HAD HEARD someone enter the shop, which was the reason he stepped out of the office to check it out. Sometimes customers wandered in, and he made a point to keep an eye out for them, although greeting them was sometimes uncomfortable. There was a white board on the wall near the office, which he used from time to time to communicate. It stated that Hudson could hear but couldn’t speak, because that seemed to be the easiest way to get the news out there. No sense in trying to pretend otherwise.

  Most of the time, Teague dealt directly with the people when they arrived, but there were the one-off instances when Hudson had no choice. Since these days most people had a cell phone, it was easier for Hudson to explain via text message. For the most part, the people who came into the shop were receptive to that. Although, there had been a couple of jackasses who refused, and in those cases, Hudson would seek out one of the guys so they could relay what he needed to say.

  However, this time the newcomer wasn’t a customer, so rather than have a confrontation with Teague, he decided to go back to his office to take care of the paperwork he’d been working on.

  “Are you purposely ignoring me?” Teague blurted as he stepped into the office a few seconds later.

  Keeping his expression neutral, Hudson glanced up at him. He’d been waiting for Teague to come to him, to tell him whether or not he was going to take him up on his offer, only that hadn’t happened. Even after the night of the fireworks, when they’d shared a moment—and yes, no matter what either of them wanted to say, they had shared a moment—Teague hadn’t confronted him. Possibly a record for the kid.

  Rather than answer, Hudson gave Teague his undivided attention, watching him closely.

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” Teague grumbled, his hands going to his hips. “One night you barge into my apartment, kiss the fuck out of me, offer to fuck my brains out, and then…”

  And then?

  Teague stared at Hudson’s hands as he signed the two words, but the expression on his face didn’t change. Sometimes, he wished Teague would’ve learned sign language like the others. Admittedly, Hudson had been floored when Dare insisted that they were going to learn sign language so that they could overcome the communication barrier between them. It had taken him completely by surprise, and in a way, it had made him feel more welcome at the marina than he’d felt anywhere in his life.

  Only Teague had purposely avoided learning, which meant the only way they could communicate was if Hudson wrote out the words or sent them via text. He opted for the latter, grabbing his phone as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk.

  He typed out the same words: And then?

  Teague peered down at his phone when the message came in. “I fucking hate this shit,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Hate what shit?

  “That I can’t fucking talk to you.”

  You’re doing a good job now.

  Hudson knew it was uncomfortable for a lot of people that he couldn’t talk. He’d experienced so many strange situations over the years because he was mute. Some people assumed he was also deaf, so they chose not to talk to him at all. A couple of people had made that assumption and then spoken aloud their real feelings, which had both amused and infuriated Hudson at the same time. He’d put many people in their place when he responded to what they said via writing down his thoughts or typing them out. When he was younger, he would often call them on it, which made things even more awkward. These days, Hudson pretended not to notice most of the time.

  “What do you want from me?” Teague dropped his hands and stared directly at him. Hudson could see the frustration in the kid’s steel-blue eyes.

  I gave you my offer.

  “But you haven’t acted on it,” Teague retorted after he read the text.

  Not my place. I told you what you needed to do.

  Hudson watched Teague closely.

  “I quit drinking. What fucking more do you want?”

  I’m proud of you.

  He didn’t mean it as condescension—he was really fucking proud of him; it couldn’t be easy—but clearly Teague took it that way. That was one of the major issues with “talking” through text messages. People assumed what they wanted to when they read the message. They could “hear” emotions that weren’t there.


  “Fuck you.”

  Hudson smiled. He couldn’t help himself. For the past week, Teague had been a little off. Not quite as combative as Hudson was used to. And during the two years they’d worked together, Hudson had experienced a gamut of emotions from Teague. His mood swings could take you out at the knees if you weren’t careful.

  He didn’t know why Teague had been extra prickly until now. Seemed he’d knocked the kid off his game with the offer.

  The offer still stands.

  Teague stared at his phone for longer than was necessary to read the message, so Hudson waited for a response. Regrettably, the sound of voices in the shop brought their conversation to an abrupt halt. Teague glanced out the door, then back to Hudson. “I’ll take care of this.”

  Hudson nodded, dropped his feet to the floor, put his phone on his desk, and got back to his paperwork. Well, he tried to, anyway. The only thing he could do was think about Teague. The kid had said he’d quit drinking, and from what Hudson could tell, he wasn’t lying. Not once had he caught him with so much as a beer, and Teague wasn’t the type to try to hide it. He was ornery by nature, so he would’ve felt the need to rub it in Hudson’s face if he was still drinking.

  So, technically, Teague had taken the first step. Now he needed to agree to be all in for the duration of their … arrangement.

  Although he should probably lay out the rules first and let Teague decide from there what he could or could not handle. The longer they allowed this to simmer between them, the more intense his craving for Teague became. He had no doubt he could satisfy the kid in ways he’d never imagined; he only hoped he could keep himself in check. The guy drove him fucking crazy, made his balls ache no matter how many times he jacked off in a given day.

  Yeah, it was safe to say the kid deserved to know what he was in for if he did accept; otherwise, he might not be able to handle it.

  Hudson picked up his phone and started tapping out another message.

  Seven

  NORMALLY TEAGUE WOULD welcome a distraction that kept him from having to deal with Hudson, but this one irritated him. Still, he managed to have a lengthy conversation with the two guys who were buying a boat from a friend and wanted to know how much it would cost to fix it. Considering they had no idea what was wrong with it, there was little Teague could tell them, yet they’d managed to chat him up for a full half hour.

  Now, as he headed outside to clear his head and refocus, he remembered his phone had buzzed in his pocket a short while ago. As he leaned against the steel wall, propping one foot flat against it, he pulled up the text message he had received. It was from Hudson, which wasn’t a big shocker. Not many people texted him. Or called, for that matter.

  Rules we have yet to discuss:

  Great. Just what Teague wanted, more rules in his life. He’d had enough of that shit when he was younger. Every damn person he’d ever encountered had rules for him. After his mother had died, it seemed he’d had to deal with one rule after another. Whether it was from a foster family, a school, a counselor, a social worker … they all wanted to lay out what Teague could and could not do. Mostly the latter.

  Needless to say, he wasn’t fond of rules.

  He continued reading.

  No getting intoxicated for the duration of our agreement. Well, that one seemed easy enough and he wasn’t blindsided by it. Hudson had already mentioned that he needed to be sober, which he was, thank you very fucking much. However, he didn’t see a problem with having a beer from time to time, and he intended to tell Hudson that.

  Testing for STDs required. I’ve got my results to give you. Okay, so that made sense. Teague had his test results from two months ago. Since he hadn’t had sex since, that should suffice. If it didn’t, then … whatever. Safety was crucial, even he couldn’t deny that. But it did make him wonder whether Hudson thought that meant they wouldn’t be using condoms. Teague had never had sex without a condom. Hell, he’d never given or received a blow job without a condom. He was rebellious, yeah, but he wasn’t fucking stupid. No way was he having sex with anyone unless condoms were involved.

  No time limit. You can end this whenever you want. As can I. For whatever reason, Teague had thought this was going to be a one-and-done type deal. At the most, twice in one night. Based on that rule, it sure as shit sounded like Hudson expected this to be ongoing. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  During the time we’re together, we will be exclusive. Period.

  Again, that one made sense. No reason to take risks. Then again, if Hudson was as good as he claimed he was, Teague wouldn’t need to stray. Not that he believed Hudson could hold his interest for more than one night, but whatever.

  Teague stared at the screen, rereading the rules over and over again. He was partly taken aback that Hudson had the audacity to pin rules to his offer, but in the same sense, they weren’t completely unreasonable. Maybe the drinking part. That seemed to be a stickler for Hudson, and Teague briefly wondered why. Still, Teague found himself battling back the urge to rebel against them. That was how he’d spent his entire life; he didn’t feel the need to change that now. If Hudson wanted rules, Hudson could go fuck himself.

  It didn’t take long for the calm to morph into a firestorm of frustration. It was a familiar feeling, something he was used to dealing with. He rarely knew what caused the rage to start boiling, but it never failed to appear.

  As the anger burned hotter, he typed in a response: Take your rules and shove them up your ass.

  Before he could hit send, he stopped himself, staring back at the words he’d typed. The resentment was prevalent, as it always was, but there was something else bubbling up inside him, something that was almost stronger than the anger. He just didn’t know what it was or what it meant.

  Deciding he needed time to process that, he deleted the words he’d written, dropped the phone in his pocket, and headed back inside. He had a job to do. Confronting Hudson had been a huge mistake. He didn’t need this kind of bullshit in his life; he had enough of that.

  So, rather than accept or decline, Teague did what he did best. He ignored it, pretended it never happened, and decided to move on with his life.

  AFTER GOING TO the gym, then stopping by the sub shop and grabbing two foot-long turkey sandwiches and devouring them before hopping in the shower, Hudson found himself sitting on his couch, reading some crime novel his brother had recommended.

  The psychopathic serial killer was almost good enough to keep Hudson’s mind from wandering, but it appeared his thoughts of Teague were overpowering his ability to stay focused. When he found himself rereading the same page for the third time, he knew it was time to give it up. Tossing the book onto the couch, he dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling.

  He’d been trying to figure out what had happened to Teague after their conversation in his office. While Teague had been busy helping the customer, Hudson had outlined his rules and sent them over. He’d never gotten a response from Teague one way or the other, and for the rest of the afternoon, they had worked side by side with Teague acting as though nothing had ever happened.

  Looked as though the kid was back to hating him once more.

  He wasn’t surprised, to say the least. It seemed one second they were making strides—more like baby steps, really—and the next, Teague was pushing him away, treating him as though he were the shit on the bottom of his shoe that he couldn’t seem to get away from.

  Not that he cared. Okay, maybe a little. But only because he’d started anticipating what would happen when Teague finally gave in to him.

  Closing his eyes, Hudson recalled the kiss he’d shared with Teague after he’d barged in and chased off the orgy crew. Just like the kiss on the cruise, Hudson had been leveled by it. The way Teague responded… Fuck. He’d been done for the first time, and now it appeared he wouldn’t be getting the opportunity again.

  A loud pounding sounded on his front door, but before he could get to his feet to answer it, the door flew
open and Teague stormed in, glaring at him.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing to me, but you’ve got to stop.”

  No inside voice there. Teague was clearly angry.

  Hudson stared back at the kid, confused.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. About your stupid fucking offer, your stupid fucking rules, your stupid fucking kiss, your stupid fucking … everything. I don’t want to think about you, goddammit!”

  Hudson was on his feet, moving toward Teague before he knew what he was doing. He stopped in front of him, cupped his face, and stared down into those stormy blue eyes that sparked with an odd mix of anger and anticipation. Teague was breathing hard, as though he’d just run a mile; his eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open. There wasn’t a hint of alcohol on his breath, so Hudson knew he wasn’t intoxicated.

  No, it looked as though Teague was finally giving in. And relaying it in the way he knew how.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Teague protested, most of his bravado fading from his voice. “I don’t want to think about you.”

  Hudson knew better.

  “Why me?” Teague asked, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. “Why the fuck did this have to happen to me? Couldn’t you find someone else to fuck with?”

  Hudson didn’t want anyone else.

  As for the rest of it, Hudson wasn’t exactly sure what Teague was talking about, but he had a good idea. Teague was referring to the attraction that was blazing between them. Maybe neither of them were looking for anything more than sex, but they couldn’t deny the need that was building, swirling, suffocating them both.