Chapter 8

Fisher

I woketo a pounding headache and the smell of bacon and coffee. I groaned, only half aware that I wasn't in my own bed, the sheets sleeker than my worn cotton ones.

"Good, you're awake. There's Tylenol on the table beside you."

Hudson's voice made me jolt upright, then wince when my head gave a harder thud of protest.

"Fucking wine," I mumbled, resolving to never drink it again—or at least, to never down the better part of two bottles. What the hell had I been thinking?

I squinted my eyes open to see Hudson standing beside the bed. He looked offensively good: freshly showered, dressed in the board shorts and T-shirt he wore for work. He'd told me that on rare occasions, he had to jump into the lake to assist a passenger in the water—or just to cool off when it was really damn hot—so he dressed accordingly.

That's when reality set in. I was on his houseboat. In his bed. After he had to put me to bed.

More memories filtered in.

Me getting drunk off my ass to get through the date with Noah. Realizing I was nowhere near ready to hop into bed with a different man. Then Noah getting pissed and pushy and Hudson swooping in to rescue the na?ve kid…

"Just kill me now," I muttered.

Hudson smiled sympathetically. "Come eat breakfast. You'll feel better once there's some food in you."

Maybe physically, but would I ever be able to live down needing Hudson to rescue me from my own date? Doubtful. Though, he had been in exactly the right place at the right time last night…on a night when he knew I'd be having a date at The Savory Swallow.

That couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

I threw back the blankets, baring most of me, since I'd stripped down to my boxer briefs the night before. At least I remembered doing it myself. If Hudson had to undress me, I'd really feel like an idiot.

Hudson's gaze drifted over my chest and down my stomach, lingering a fraction too long. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

He likes what he sees, doesn't he?

"I'll let you get dressed," he said, averting his eyes. "Come to the kitchen when you're ready."

"Thanks." I reached for the Tylenol. "Where's the bathroom?"

Hudson pointed toward a doorway on his way out, and I hauled myself out of bed to piss what seemed like enough to fill the whole damn marina.

By the time I dragged on my date-night clothes and entered the kitchen, Hudson was plating up bacon, eggs, and toast.

"Do you want some coffee? I don't have any of those nasty energy drinks you prefer."

I slid into one side of the small plastic booth, trying not to think too much about the night I'd been here before, when Hudson had flat-out rejected me.

"Coffee can't be any worse than wine."

Hudson slid a plate in front of me. "Not a fan, huh? I wouldn't have guessed that last night."

My cheeks heated with embarrassment. "You didn't have to come to my rescue."

"That guy was being a dick to you."

"I could have handled it."

Hudson made a skeptical noise, and I narrowed my eyes at him, suddenly irritated. "How were you there at exactly the right time anyway?"

He dropped his gaze to his food. "Just lucky, I guess."

I didn't miss the guilty note in his voice.

"You knew I had a date at The Savory Swallow," I pointed out. "That wasn't by accident, was it?"

Hudson cleared his throat. "Uh, well…"

I waited as his mouth opened and closed. Then my phone rang, and he clamped his jaw tight. Great, I'd probably never get an answer to my question now.

I glanced at the screen, and my heart lurched. "Fuck, it's my dad. I'm late for work."

Hudson's eyes widened. "You probably shouldn't mention—"

"Trust me, I'm not dumb enough to tell him anything about you."

Hudson flinched, then tried to disguise it by digging into his food. But I'd seen that split second of hurt in his eyes. My father's grudge was a sore point, and I was feeling on edge, but I shouldn't have thrown it in his face.

"Sorry," I said as my phone rang again.

"It's fine." Hudson bit into a piece of bacon, baring a few more teeth than strictly necessary. "You should take his call so he doesn't worry."

One more opportunity for Hudson to see me as a stupid kid. Not that I hadn't done a good enough job of that on my own last night.

"Hey, Dad."

"Where the heck are you?" he groused.

I winced. "Overslept. I'll be there soon."

He huffed. "We know you didn't come home last night. Your mother hardly let me get a wink of sleep."

Apparently moving into the apartment over the garage hadn't stopped them from keeping tabs on me.

"Yeah, I, uh…just crashed with a friend. Drank a little too much. You know how it is."

"What I know is that you always talk about all the things you'd do if you owned the store, and you can't even show up on time."

One time. One freaking time in the past three years, and he talked like it was a habit. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"You better be," he grumbled. "And let your mother know you're okay before she calls the damn Coast Guard."

I groaned as I disconnected the call, flipping to my text notifications, which sure enough, were full of messages from my frantic mother. I had a number of missed calls too. I'd been too stunned to find myself in Hudson's bed, and too hungover, to even think about looking at my bright phone screen.

I texted a quick message to Mom to assure her I wasn't lying dead in a ditch.

"I've gotta go." I slid out of the booth, then paused, remembering I wasn't on land. "Uh, can you…"

Hudson gestured with his fork toward my full plate. "After you eat."

"But—"

"Sit, Fishie. You'll thank me later."

"That nickname makes me sound five years old."

"Fisher, then. Humor me, please."

As if I'd really refuse anything he asked. I sat down and scooped some egg onto my toast then took a big bite, chewed, swallowed. Chased it with some coffee.

"Better?"

"You tell me."

I shoveled in a few more bites, then sighed. "Okay, yeah. I do feel better."

Hudson didn't bother with saying I told you so. He just nodded and stood to clear the plates. "Head on out to the boat. I'll be right behind you."

I went through a pair of doors onto the deck, then climbed down to the small sport boat waiting below.

The boat rocked when I landed and I had to grab the overhead bar not to fall.

Hudson dropped down after me, legs steady as ever. He looked as comfortable walking on rocking boats as on rock-solid land.

He moved about the boat confidently, untying the mooring lines affixing it to the houseboat. Before he started the motor, I put a hand on his arm.

"About last night. We didn't really get the chance to finish that conversation."

"Yeah." He met my eyes. "I owe you an apology."

"Why?"

"I went to The Savory Swallow to check up on you. I didn't like the look of that guy."

"Noah?"

His expression darkened. "Don't really care what his name was."

"Uh-huh. So you were just…looking out for me?"

"Exactly."

"Hudson, I already have a father. I don't need another."

He looked offended. "I know that! I wasn't trying to be your father."

"Then what were you trying to be?"

He hesitated a beat, gaze dropping to my mouth then darting away. My suspicion grew stronger when he didn't answer.

"Were you jealous?" I pressed.

"No!" he exclaimed, still not looking at me. "Was I— Pfft. I wasn't—I didn't—I…"

"Because if you were jealous, then I'd really have to question your intelligence."

Hudson blinked at me, stunned. "What?"

"You had your chance," I pointed out. "You turned me down. What did you think was going to happen?"

"Well, I hadn't really gotten that far."

"I want you, Hudson, but if you won't make a move, I'll have to find someone else."

One moment we were standing chest to chest, and the next I was pinned to the side of the boat, Hudson's big hand gripping my jaw almost painfully.

"Someone else?"he practically growled.

"I want my first time to be with you, but if you aren't available…"

He crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me so hard and fast that my head spun. He held nothing back, giving me everything I wanted the night I'd tried to kiss him in his kitchen. I was vaguely aware that I was pressed against the side of the boat, a bolt digging uncomfortably into my lower back, but Hudson's mouth, hot and hard, demanded my attention. His tongue slid along my bottom lip, teasing me, making me gasp, and then swept in to own my mouth.

It was the most erotic kiss of my life.

It was better than my awkward first kiss with a girl. Better than the sloppy kisses I'd exchanged with another guy in a game of Truth or Dare. Better, even, than the clumsy handjob I'd gotten at a party last summer.

This kiss short-circuited my mind. It turned my cock hard as steel. If it went on much longer, it might just make me come in my pants.

I whimpered under the onslaught, aware of just how damn big Hudson was as he held me exactly where he wanted me. I wasn't going anywhere though. I fisted his shirt, tried to pull him even closer, tried to pull him into me.

When he broke the kiss, we were both panting. Hudson's hair was wild, as if I'd run my fingers through it, though I had no memory of doing it. His cheeks were red, his eyes glazed.

All for me.

"Are you sure, Fishie?" he said softly.

I gaped at him. "You're asking that now."

"Kissing is one thing, but this…I can't make any promises about—"

I kissed him before he spoiled everything. I already knew Hudson wouldn't be a hearts-and-flowers kind of guy. That wasn't why I wanted him.

I wanted him because he was sexy as fuck. And yeah, okay, he was smart and confident and a good man. But if I said all that, he'd only run from this.

I was willing to take what I could get, so I kissed him silent and when we parted, I bluffed my ass off.

"I don't need any promises, Hud. It's just sex, right? We don't have to complicate it."

He smiled wryly. "Spoken like a twenty-one-year-old."

I squinted, unsure if that was an insult, but he just dropped a kiss on the tip of my nose and moved toward the captain's seat.

"All right, Fish, we'll do this," he said.

Behind him, I fist pumped the air, silently screaming my victory. He turned, and I yanked my arm down, doing my best to project mature vibes.

"But right now, you've got work, and so do I."

I groaned in frustration, and he grinned.

"But tonight…"

"You'll fuck me?" I asked hopefully.

"Nope. Not yet."

"What?" I protested. "But—"

"You said you wanted me for your first time," Hudson cut in. "Sex isn't just about fucking. There is never just one first time. When you do it right, it's dozens of first times." His smile turned sinful. "And you can bet your cute ass I'm going to do it right."

This time, Hudson was making a promise. I heard it in his voice. Saw it in the hot look he sent me as he finally hit the throttle.

The boat skipped forward, wind rushing through my hair and tugging at my clothes, while a shiver of anticipation rippled down my spine.

This was going to be a hell of a ride.

Hudson

I dropped Fisher off at the dock behind The Rusty Hook so his father wouldn't spot me delivering him for a walk of shame. Not that anything had happened.

Yet.

Boone wouldn't see it that way though. And if he knew what we were about to do, he'd rip off my balls.

I veered away from shore, leaving Fisher walking toward the marina and his father's store.

Was it ridiculous to be sneaking around like a teen to avoid Boone's ire? Yes. Yes, it was. Was I going to keep doing it? Hell, yes.

Was it foolish to get involved with his son? Yes, again. Was I going to do it anyway?

Hell, yes.

The kiss replayed in my mind. Fisher's mouth opening under mine, his tongue slick and greedy, the desperate sounds he made as I finally gave in and took what I wanted. He couldn't get enough of me, and I already knew it was going to take more than one kiss to get enough of him.

I sped down the lake, letting the wind blow the last of my reservations away. If Fisher wanted his first experiences to be with me, then I'd damn well enjoy it while it lasted.

I docked at the far end of the marina and headed for my office, stationed next to the boat rental and storage business close to the water.

It was really just a glorified hut with a ticket window and a single room I used as an office.

We did most of our bookings online, but this was where I met up with employees, took meetings, and handed out paychecks.

A willowy blond man in a light linen suit that looked expensive waited outside. I recognized him from The Rusty Hook. Fisher had talked to him once or twice, probably flirted with him too.

But if I held it against him, I'd have a grudge with half a dozen men. Fisher had certainly gotten my attention, hadn't he? The man had played me, and I couldn't even be mad about it.

Becausehe's all mine now.

"The ticket booth isn't open yet," I said. "We're already booked for most of the day."

"I'm not here for a ticket." He held out his hand to shake. "I'm Skylar Addison."

Addison was the last name of my investor, and I was sure that was no coincidence. I reluctantly shook his hand. "Gavin sent you?"

He nodded. "I'm his son."

"I guess we better take this to my office," I said regretfully. I had phone calls to make about the Dock Hop, three boat tours to run, and a young, sexy man to daydream about. I did not relish the idea of a lecture from my investor using his son as proxy.

Skylar tipped his head. "I won't take too much of your time."

I pulled out my keys to unlock the door, then led Skylar past the small alcove behind the ticket window to the office where I conducted my business.

There was nothing but a metal desk, a laptop on top of it, a pile of mail, and two chairs, but it got the job done. I waved him toward a seat, and despite his fine clothing, Skylar didn't hesitate to perch on the grungy old office chair. At least he wasn't too fussy.

I got straight to the point. "So, Gavin wanted you to shake me down, huh?"

Skylar's smile looked pained. "I was already in town, so he asked if I'd swing by for an update. Have you given any thought to his proposal?"

I sat back, fighting the urge to snap at Skylar. I didn't appreciate Gavin checking up on me. This was my business. He was an investor, yes, but he wasn't the one in charge of day-to-day operations.

"I've been mulling over my options."

Skylar waited for me to continue. When I didn't, he sighed and sat forward. "I really don't want to be here either, Mr. Nash."

"Call me Hudson. Everyone else does."

He inclined his head, blond bangs falling forward to cover his eyes. He was a handsome man, with high cheekbones that gave him a bit of a Nordic look, and pale blue eyes. But I much preferred Fisher's warmth to this man's cool beauty.

"Hudson," he said softly, "I'd like something to report to my father."

"I don't have an answer for you."

"I understand." He smiled again, and this time there was a genuine humor to it. "I just know how his mind works. We can buy ourselves more time if he thinks you're researching the options."

"Ourselves?"

"Like I said, I don't want to check up on you either. But I'll be in town for a while…"

"Ah."

"The bar manager over at The Rusty Hook is already fed up with me, and I don't blame him. I'd rather not pester more men in town. I'm just trying to enjoy a quiet holiday alone."

He sounded sincere, which was a surprise. I didn't sense any of the entitlement I'd come to expect from the wealthier tourists and vacation homeowners around the lake.

"Huh. You all invested in the pub too?"

"Something like that. The pub, your business, and a few other odds and ends."

"No kidding? I didn't realize you were all so enmeshed."

"Well, my grandfather is originally from this area. My father has a lot of fond childhood memories of visiting the lake. He likes to feel connected."

"Hmm."

I always thought rich people were strange. If Gavin Addison wanted to feel connected, he could spend more than a couple of days a year at the lake. He didn't have to buy up half the damn town.

I shouldn't be so ungrateful though. He'd made it possible for me to pursue my dream business.

At Boone's expense, unfortunately.

But that wasn't Gavin's fault. He'd have given Boone the same offer if the stubborn man wasn't so against outside investment. As it turned out, Gavin wasn't as much of an outsider as a lot of investors around the lake tended to be.

Skylar waited patiently while I thought through what he said.

"You can tell your father I'm evaluating our prospects for relocation or expansion while also investigating some new revenue opportunities. I'll need a few weeks to gather data."

"Of course." Skylar stood up. "Thanks for your time, Hudson."

"No problem. Thanks for your candor about the best way to reassure your father. You're quite the diplomat."

His polite smile drooped at the edges. "I suppose I have a lot of practice."

There was something very tired about his tone of voice. As if he were a man who'd carried a heavy burden for far too long. I didn't think he was only speaking about mediating his father's business affairs.

"Right," I said uncertainly. "Well, I appreciate it."

Skylar excused himself and left the office, posture perfect, shoulders straight.

He was the perfect image of a rich businessman, but I was sure I hadn't imagined that vulnerable note in his voice. Either way, I didn't have time to dwell on it.

If I was going to truly get his father off his case, I had to organize this event and increase our bookings during a period when business typically slowed down.

I wanted only one home for this business, and that place was Swallow Cove.