Chapter 1

Hudson

Bright summer sunlightdanced over rippling water in the Swallow Cove Marina, but something else drew my eye.

A six-foot-tall, sandy-haired, far too young Fisher Riggins.

I eased my Regal cruiser into dock at the Bait Swallow store and fuel station on the Lake of the Ozarks while Fisher helped a tourist refuel his rental boat.

I tried not to stare at the lean muscles exposed by Fisher's shorts and tank top—and failed. Luckily, I hid my reaction before he turned toward me.

When Fisher caught sight of me, his eyes lit up.

Just like they always did.

His sweet, wide smile followed. The one that was just for me. I shouldn't like it, but hell if I didn't. It was a tease almost too sweet to resist.

But I was doing my best.

"Hey, Hud! Give me a minute and I'll be free to help you."

"Sure, take your time."

I sounded unbothered, but internally I grumbled at the hand the customer placed on Fisher's arm to regain his attention.

I liked it better when Fisher directed that attention at me, even if I shouldn't. Fisher's crush on me could probably be seen from space it was so obvious, but as much as he'd grown into a very appealing man, I could not go there with him.

For a lot of reasons.

I hopped out of my boat, taking the few minutes to tie it in place while keeping Fisher and the overly attentive schmuck in my peripheral vision.

I shouldn't be low-key spying on Fisher. But then, I really shouldn't be here at all.

I did need fuel, but only because I hadn't stopped at the two other places I could have done it. I'd spent the day out on the lake, ferrying a family of four who'd booked a tour with my boating company, Swallow Adventures.

I realized how it sounded. Now. I'd left off the Cove after Swallow to save space for the name on the side of all our boats, and boy, had I regretted that choice.

I'd dropped my passengers off at the dock behind their hotel in Swallow Beach, across the lake, and should have called it a day. Instead, here I was at the Bait Swallow even though the owner, Boone Riggins, hated me.

Drawn by the very bait I should be keeping away from.

Fisher was a full twenty years younger than me, and if that weren't bad enough, his father hated me. Boone still held a grudge that I'd inadvertently stolen his dream business when I came to Swallow Cove to start over after my divorce.

With investor backing, I'd bought a fleet of boats from the previous boating tour owner who was retiring. Old Hal was near bankruptcy and had to sell fast, and I'd been looking to make a change at exactly the right time.

It was only later I realized that Boone had been trying to pull funds together. That he'd had a handshake agreement with Hal for years.

That I'd stolen the opportunity right out from under him.

If he knew I was fantasizing about stealing his son, too, the man would truly blow a gasket.

"Hey, you ready?" Fisher called, his eyes finally on me again.

"Sure, but I can handle my own hose," I said, nodding to the fuel pump.

Fisher eyed me up and down. "I'm sure you can."

I realized a split second later how my words had sounded and chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, I meant for the fueling."

Fisher laughed. "Yeah, I know."

If Fisher was the one with the crush, why was I suddenly acting like the flustered schoolboy?

"Actually, I should talk to Boone while I'm here, so I'll come inside with you."

Fisher's eyebrows shot up in surprise. No wonder. Boone had made his beef with me very well known. Despite the five years I'd been living here, I was pretty much treated like an outsider by most of the locals.

"You can try," he said, sounding dubious.

I gave myself a stern talking-to before pushing open the glass door of the shop, the bell jangling above us as we entered.

There will be no staring at Fisher's pretty lips. No flirting of any kind. You will be all business, Hud.

"Hey, Boo—"

I barely caught a glimpse of the man before he hightailed it into the back office, the door slamming behind him. Against my will, my gaze sought out Fisher, exchanging a look of exasperation with him.

"Calling my dad your boo now?" Fisher teased. "Should I be jealous?"

"Of course not," I said sternly. "Boone is a married man, and I'm no homewrecker."

Fisher blinked, caught off-guard by my deadpan delivery, then broke into snickers. He was one of the few people who understood my sense of humor.

He wiped at a tear forming in the corner of his eye. "The idea of you and my dad—"

"Is not one anyone wants to imagine." I shuddered.

Fisher rounded the checkout counter. "Do you want me to try to get him to come out and talk? I can probably lure him with promises of black licorice."

Black licorice? Yuck.

Boone's booming voice called out from the back of the store. "Tell him I'm not here!"

Fisher looked at me with a mostly straight face. "He's not here."

I snorted. "I noticed. Well, I was going to tell him about a good opportunity to bring in more business, but if he doesn't want to know…"

"He doesn't want to know!" Boone called from the back.

Fisher rolled his eyes. "Dad…"

"No." Boone poked his head out of the doorway, glaring balefully at me. "I don't need this man telling me my business. And neither do you, Fisher. Take his money and send him on his way."

I rapped my knuckles on the counter and reached for my wallet. "Okay, then."

"Dad." Fisher sounded chastising and embarrassed at the same time.

"It's all right. If he wants to stick his head in the sand and ignore the world around him, it's his loss."

Boone slammed his door shut, and Fisher winced, looking torn.

"Shit. Sorry." I shouldn't put Fisher in the middle of our stupid-ass feud.

If Boone would just be reasonable and understand I hadn't maliciously taken his dream business…

But hell, it wasn't like I'd responded well the first time he'd confronted me about it. I'd laughed off his rage, thinking it was a massive overreaction. I only learned later that Hal had misled him, and it was far too late to change my course by then.

Truth was, Boone was living in the past, and I wanted to live in the future.

Which meant I had to stop riling him up.

I'd known before I ever pulled into dock that Boone would refuse to hear me out. I'd come here for all the wrong reasons. It was time to stop indulging my worst instincts.

I tossed a fifty on the counter and turned for the door.

"I shouldn't have come by. I'll do my business and be on my way. Tell Boone I'll stop somewhere else from now on."

"Hudson…"

Fisher's baby blues begged me to come back. But that would bring nothing but trouble.

More trouble, that was.

Boone and I had enough baggage without me giving in to lusting over his son.

Fisher

"Really, Dad?"

My father skulked out of the back office, looking more like a little boy getting a scolding than a fifty-year-old business owner.

"What?" He widened his eyes to look innocent.

That ship had sailed. Dad was never innocent when it came to Hudson. He'd been pissed when he lost his shot at Hal's boating company, and it wasn't like he could take out his anger on Hal. The old guy was struggling to get by, just like everyone around here.

We might live in a tourist destination like Lake of the Ozarks, but Swallow Cove was off the beaten path, a small inlet southwest of where most of the action took place. A lot of folks who lived here wanted it that way. They cared more about nature, fishing, and preserving our origins than Swallow Beach—nicknamed Shallow Beach because it had made itself a party destination every bit as much as we'd made ourselves a family-friendly, nature-focused locale.

One of us was doing better than the other, and surprise, surprise, partying pulled more tourists than conservation.

"It wouldn't hurt to hear Hudson out. You could use more customers."

"He's not the answer to my problems," Dad grumbled.

"Maybe if you stopped fighting every new idea—"

"You don't even know what his idea is." Dad sounded hurt. "Why are you taking his side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side." I sighed. "I just know you could do more with this place."

"Don't need to fix it if it ain't broke." His chin jutted forward, and we'd been down this road enough for me to know he was too stubborn to listen.

I was stubborn, too, and I never had learned to quit while I was ahead.

"People are changing, Dad. They want new tech, things to make their lives easy and convenient, not old-school bait and tackle. With a few changes—"

"Fisher," he interrupted with a head shake. "When you finally run a business on your own, you'll understand."

"I've been taking business classes. I know a thing or two."

He chuckled. "It's not the same, son."

I huffed, annoyed. It didn't matter that I was going the extra mile to learn how to run a business, or that I'd been helping Dad manage his since I was in middle school, he continued to see me as a na?ve kid.

"Well, I will run the business one day, and when I do, I'll be smart about it."

I slammed out of the door before he could respond because I was mature like that. But damn, what would it take to be seen as an adult around here?

Not just by my dad, but by everyone—including that infuriatingly gorgeous piece of manflesh, Hudson.

Speaking of my personal devil, he was bent over to unknot his docking lines and hot damn, that man had an ass I'd written more than one bad poem about. He was pretty much the subject of my sexual awakening. Of course, I was sixteen at the time, so maybe it was just hormones.

I couldn't resist the siren call of the six-foot-four, broad-shouldered giant of a man. Not a lot of guys made me feel dainty, but he was one, and I had spent many, many nights fantasizing about how that would play out in bed.

I might be a virgin, but I had a vivid imagination, and in my mind, Hudson fucked me in just about every position possible—and a few impossible ones too, cuz hey, that's what fantasy was all about, right?

"Hey, Hudson, all good?" I called as I joined him on the dock.

He stepped onto his boat, standing tall with the sun backlighting his dark hair. The man was scruffy; there was no other way to put it. But his shaggy hair and beard really did it for me.

Everything about Hudson Nash turned me on and always had.

But then, I'd learned from my trip last fall to Granville, Nebraska—when I'd laid eyes on Garrett Rafferty—that I dug older men. Something about their confidence was sexy as hell. Why fumble around with some immature idiot when I could have an experienced man who knew exactly how to please me?

Too bad Hudson didn't seem to agree. He indulged my flirting, but he never let it go anywhere. It was damn frustrating.

"I'm all set," he said. "Sorry for riling up the old man."

"He's set in his ways."

"I s'pose that's fair," he said. "We've all got our blind spots."

I smiled at him, amping up the flirtiness. "Yeah? What's yours?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Oh, I really would.

Hudson laughed at my expression. "See you around, Fishie."

I rolled my eyes, annoyed by the childish nickname. He'd given it to me years ago when I was too dumb to know it'd lock me in the kid zone for good.

Hudson took his seat, preparing to leave.

"Hey," I called. "What did you want to tell my dad about anyway?"

Hudson waved a hand. "Just an event to draw tourists over this way. No biggie. I knew he'd say no."

"Oh yeah?" I shielded my eyes from the brightness of the sun, squinting to watch Hudson's expression. "So why you'd stop by then? The nice view?"

Hudson glanced around, taking in the deep blue-black of the water, the turquoise sky with puffball white clouds, the rich green of the grass and sycamore and river birch trees that grew along the Ozark shores.

Then his gaze landed back on me.

"Yeah, the view's not bad."

I met his eyes. "It's pretty damn good from where I stand too."

There was a crackling tension between us, and for one breathless moment, I thought he'd finally acknowledge the attraction.

Then his expression turned blank, and he gave me a quick wave before disappearing into the cockpit and firing up the engine.

I watched Hudson reverse out of the marina and head east, wondering if I'd spend my whole life watching him run away.