by Kali Hart
Hudson
Wilder Brothers Rodeo Book 3
Kali Hart
Hudson is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Kali Hart
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
1
JILLIAN
The only thing trickier than sneaking into a private event uninvited is sneaking out.
Sure, I could follow the herd of romance authors through the main gate, but I’d have to face Darla, the organizer, again. She’s already onto me and my bestie Sonya. She doesn’t believe we’re romance authors who are part of her convention weekend.
For the record, she’s right.
But I’m not about to give her the satisfaction of proving it.
I don’t know about Sonya, but I’ve never written a word in my life that I wasn’t forced to. But my ability to think on the fly was on point today. That’s the only way I was able to invent pen names for the both of us so quickly so we would blend in.
I slip behind the stands and search for that hole in the fence, leaving Sonya with her hot cowboy tour guide. I was hoping to cheer her up after her horrible day, but she may have hit the jackpot. No way I would intrude on their private tour.
Crashing this exclusive rodeo gathering for romance writers was the most obvious cure for my bestie’s bad day. A hot, suave cowboy can cure anything. Judging by the lustful twinkle in Sonya’s eyes when I left her alone with the bull rider Colt Wilder, I’m right.
“Going somewhere?”
I freeze in my tracks, and my breath hitches. Shit, I’ve been caught.
“Looking for something I dropped,” I say to the male voice coming from somewhere behind my left shoulder. I don’t dare look. It might be that incredibly sexy cowboy I saw lingering off to the side earlier. Hudson Wilder. The bronc rider. A brother to the cowboy I left Sonya with. I may have Googled him. A few times.
I begin searching the ground for the mystery thing I dropped, hoping he’ll just go and leave me to it.
I was interested—at first. But I saw him flirting with a couple of the rodeo girls in those Daisy Duke shorts. Super skinny and wavy hair down to their tiny little butts. And some of the posts I found on social media painted a pretty clear picture. Yeah, no thanks. I’m never going to be in a magazine or anything, but I love my curves. And I don’t have time for a womanizer who thinks he’s the greatest gift to women since cherry lip gloss.
“What did you drop?” His smooth voice sends shivers throughout my body, no matter how much I fight it.
“My necklace.”
“But you’re wearing one.”
It’s time to turn around and face him. Even from a distance earlier, I could tell those eyes could melt panties. It’s like all those movies where they tell people to cover their eyes and don’t look. I’m about to be the receiver of some terrible curse that can never be undone.
“I dropped a second one. Had it in my pocket.”
“What does it look like?”
I bite down on my bottom lip, fighting to maintain control. But my gaze rakes over the sinfully hot cowboy. In his relaxed T-shirt and Wranglers, the amount of muscle he’s sporting is very apparent. Stubble dusts his chin and cheeks, and I yearn to run my fingers over it. Dammit, this is hard.
“You know, maybe I left it in the hotel room after all.”
“I can help you look.”
I gulp when the scent of his cologne drifts to me. Dammit, he even smells sexy. “Really not necessary.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Hudson takes a stride closer to me, leaving us mere inches apart. In the shaded area behind the stands, the heat swirling between the very small gap is undeniable. Very naughty thoughts dance through my overactive imagination. I need to get away.
“Thanks, though.” My voice is so quiet, I’m not even sure he heard me.
“I know you’re not a romance writer.”
My heart races at the conviction in his voice. “Of course I am. I’m Mandi Flowers.” The lie doesn’t do anything to relax that intense gaze of his. My traitorous nipples turn to pebbles beneath my lace bra. “I wr—write vampire ones.”
Hudson leans a little closer, his lips a breath away from my ear. A sensible person would run or at least scream for help with a stranger this close. But that’s never been me. Nope. “Prove it.”
HUDSON
“I don’t need to prove it.” The fiery blonde going by the fake pen name Mandi Flowers takes a step back. But it’s a tiny step that tells me I have her snared in my trap.
I’m not going to lie, I’ve always had a way with women. They’re drawn to me, much like the rodeo girls earlier during Colt’s presentation. I never entertain their interest beyond conversation, but if you ask any one of my brothers or the media, they’d label me a womanizer.
“You can’t prove it, babe. Because you’re not really a writer.”
Her gaze flickers to the fence, near the same spot I watched her and her friend sneak in from earlier. I could’ve turned them in, but I really wanted to see how it was all going to play out. Even from a distance, I could tell the woman standing before me now was the instigator.
“You know this because you read loads of romance novels, huh?” She fidgets with her necklace—I know there isn’t a second one.
The breeze lifts a lock of hair, fluttering it in front of her crystal blue eyes. I catch it with my fingers and leisurely tuck it behind her ear. “I Googled Mandi Flowers. No results.”
“I’m not published yet.”
I’ll give this woman credit. She doesn’t back down. “If Darla knew that, she wouldn’t have invited you along. Today’s behind the scenes tour was for published romance authors only.” I only know this because originally, I was selected to entertain the private group. But Colt lost a bet to me. That left me on the sidelines to enjoy his discomfort.
“She made an exception for me.”
Almost as if it were orchestrated, the gaggle of authors strolls by on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the fence. “Mind if I confirm that?” I manage a single step before her hands shackle my arm and yank me back.
“Okay, okay. So I’m not an author.” She stretches onto her toes to peer over my shoulder. “Just please don’t rat me out.”
I have no intention of outing her little secret. Colt seems very smitten with her friend—and he’s never smitten with anyone. I’m not about to spoil that. But I do quite enjoy riling this woman up. “Then tell me your real name.”
“What?”
“That’s not a hard question to answer.”
“You don’t need to know—” One glance over my shoulder is all it takes for her to relent. “Fine, fine. My name is Jillian. Happy?”
“Almost.”
Jillian lets out a heavy sigh, but she doesn’t do a thing to put any real distance between us. I could draw her into my arms with little effort at our proximity. Devour that pretty mou
th in one sweeping motion.
“Look, I’m not interested.”
I purposely drop my gaze to her tits. Her hard nipples are poking through the thin fabric of her tank top. “Is that so?”
“I don’t get tangled up with players. And you most definitely are a player.”
“Actually, I’m not.” Though toying with her has been incredibly entertaining, I hope she can hear the sincerity in my voice now. I fear she’s had a chance to see what they say about me online.
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”
I reach out my hand, palm up, in offering. “C’mon on, then.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to prove to you that I’m not the ladies’ man everyone paints me out to be. But you’ll have to spend the day with me to see it.”
Her blue eyes stare at my hand for several seconds, and I find for the first time, I’m nervous I’m about to be shot down. It’s not something I’m used to, and I don’t care for how it feels. The churning of my stomach, the tightening in my chest. I realize I’m more drawn to this woman than I’ve ever been drawn to anyone.
I’m not about to let her walk away now that I’ve met her.
After what feels like hours, Jillian drops her hand into mine. “Fine. Let’s see what you’re all about, cowboy.”
2
JILLIAN
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He flashes me that pleasure inducing smile, causing a series of tingles between my thighs. I cross my legs. “Patience. It’s not far away.”
I should’ve turned Hudson down, for several reasons. One, I know a womanizer when I see one. The man will use all that cowboy charm to try and convince me otherwise, but I’m not stupid. I’ve encountered his kind before.
Second, I’m supposed to be hanging for sale signs and lockboxes right now on three different properties. I left the office and never told my boss I’d be taking a few hours off to soothe my bestie. To be fair, he already left for the weekend. Probably off with some hot date—womanizer example number one. But I am supposed to be working.
Add to that list that Hudson is a stranger and I’m now driving toward the city limits win his truck without telling anyone … I know better.
Yet here I am.
“Do I get any hints?”
“It’s the closest I can get to being in my natural element, other than the arena.”
That doesn’t give me much to go on, but I doubt he’s about to give me more clues than that. So I change tactics. “You’re a bronc rider?”
“Yes.”
“Why not bulls?”
Hudson lets out an easy, unguarded laugh that I know is not for my benefit. I relax, just a little. It will take a whole lot more than that, though, for me to let my defenses down. “I’m better on a horse, and they don’t have horns.”
“This rodeo thing is a family thing?”
“Yep. You met Colt, he’s the bull rider. Then you got Austin and Tex.”
“They ride too?”
“Austin is a pickup man. Tex is always in the ring, distracting a mad animal when it’s set on crushing a few bones.”
I wish I knew more about the rodeo, but to be honest, I’ve never been to one. The private tour Sonya and I crashed is the closest I’ve ever come. So these descriptions don’t mean much to me, but I’m too embarrassed to ask.
I will admit, I’ve always had a thing for a man in a cowboy hat, though. That’s probably how I ended up in a truck headed out of the city limits and into the country with a complete stranger. “You’re not an axe murderer, right Hudson Wilder?”
He slows the truck and turns onto a dirt path off the highway. “No, ma’am.”
The way he says ma’am makes my nipples tighten. It’s so fucking sexy and smooth. I remind myself that he could still be a player. That giving into him might be playing right in his hands and utterly stupid. But the longer I’m alone with him, the harder it is to keep this logic rooted in my brain. “You’re sure? Because I see an awful lot of woods around here.”
He slows the truck and parks. Leaning over the center console, he looks me straight in the eyes. “I promise, you’re safe with me.” The sincerity and conviction in his tone thrills me, and my guard slips a little more.
“Where are we?”
“A friend’s ranch.”
“A friend?” I quirk an eyebrow at that. I don’t know where Hudson Wilder calls home, but if it were here, I’d know about it. Our small city isn’t big enough for someone like him to blend in unnoticed.
“My brothers and I have traveled all over, and we’ve made some friends in different places. This is one of them.”
Finally able to tear my eyes away from Hudson and shake away the naughty thoughts forming in my overactive imagination, I take a closer look at where we are. A barn sits off to one side. A two-story house with a covered porch is laid out in front of us. A fence stretches between the two, enclosing half a dozen horses.
Before I can ask who this friend is, a woman appears on the porch. At first glance, a surge of jealousy fills me. She’s gorgeous with her auburn hair, big smile, and cowgirl boots. She’s skinny in all the ways I am not.
“This is Natalie. She’s like a second mom to me.”
Squinting my eyes through the windshield, it’s easier to see her age now. My jealousy meter eases up.
“C’mon. I want to introduce you.”
“If it isn’t the famous Hudson Wilder.” Natalie hops off the porch and swings her arms around Hudson. It’s easy to see they’re old friends, and at this closer range, there’s not a trace of lust in Natalie’s eyes. I finally relax.
“Natalie, I want you to meet my friend Jillian.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Before I can extend a hand out, I’m trapped in a hug of my own. “Sorry, sugar. I’m a hugger.” Finally, she lets goes so I can refill my lungs with oxygen. For such a petite woman, she’s certainly strong. “Hudson, you’ve never brought anyone over for me to meet before. Is there something you want to tell me?”
Heat flares up through my neck and settles onto my rosy cheeks. I turn toward the barn, hopeful to hide my embarrassment. How’s he going to explain bringing a woman he just met? At the same time, I’m relieved no other girl has ever earned an introduction to Natalie before, as she’s obviously someone important in his life.
Hudson gives her a wink, but his gaze settles on me as he says, “Not yet.”
“I know you can’t stay for supper with the rodeo tonight, but can I fix you two anything to eat now?”
“Actually, I was hoping we could borrow your barn.”
“Go for it,” Natalie says with a wave. “I’ll be inside if you need me.”
My eyebrows shoot clear up to my hairline, and I swallow hard. What would two people with an obvious burning attraction need with a barn? I should hightail it out of here, but it’s too late for me to run away. There’s a roguish side of me that doesn’t want to anyway.
HUDSON
The first moment I spotted Jillian dragging her friend through a gap in the fence, I was intrigued. I suspected even then that she wasn’t really a romance writer. But I wasn’t going to spoil her fun. I kept off to the sidelines, pretending to watch my brother squirm in front of an audience. But really, I wanted to watch Jillian.
When the two rodeo girls came up to chat, I didn’t want to be rude. Rude is not in my nature. But I made it clear I wasn’t interested, even after they begged me to join them at the after party tonight. I usually make an appearance at those things, but if I go tonight, it will be with Jillian on my arm or not at all.
But of course Jillian had spotted the interaction and no doubt formed the same conclusion so many others do when I’m bombarded by women.
“Why are we going to the barn?” Jillian asks as she walks beside me.
“I want to show you something. You’ll see.”
“If it’s full of a bunch of things with rusty blades, I’m out. I’m not going out in some horror movie fashion.”
I take her hand, unable to contain my laughter. “I promise I’m not going to murder you.” I’d never hurt her. I’d do anything necessary to protect her, and if anyone dared try to cause her harm, they’d answer to me.
The powerful pull I feel to Jillian is sudden. I’ve never experienced anything in my life like it before. But deep down in my gut, I know I was meant to find her. It’s been too easy to imagine a future together—lazy days on the front porch watching the sunset, sipping coffee in the morning, tumbling naked between the sheets. I want it all.
Jillian takes a cautious step into the barn. But the most frightening object inside is an old pitchfork. Or maybe it’s Earl, the grumpy old cow who doesn’t really like the outdoors. But he’s penned up in a corner. He won’t bother us.
“What is this place?”
“Natalie’s from a rodeo family, too. Her family and mine were close, back when my dad ran the circuit. Whenever we were down this way, we always stayed on this ranch.” I lead Jillian to the practice barrel, happy to see that it’s still set up just like I remembered.
“Why is there a barrel floating in the air?”
I take her hand and spin her around to face me. “You can read all the articles and social media posts about me you want, and they’ll all say the same thing. But I want to show you a part of who I really am. A part I don’t share with anyone.”
“And that includes a floating barrel?”
It’s impossible not to laugh around Jillian. It makes my soul feel complete, somehow. I don’t know how I’m going to make a future work with her, but I’ll figure it out. I have to. This woman belongs with me. I’ve never been more certain of anything.
3