Chapter 7

7

Hudson

Hudson’s Words To Live By:

If you repeat something enough times, maybe it will come true. Hell, it worked for Dorothy.

Straight.

Why had the word felt wrong on my tongue? And why, for the love of god, had I repeated it so many times? The man looked at me like I was insane.

“Sure thing, Hudson,” he’d said before moving seamlessly back into tour guide mode. The rest of the tour had been straightforward, as if Charlie was gone and in his place stood an automaton. It had still been the best damned historical tour I’d ever been on. The facts and anecdotes of the pub and surrounding area he’d relayed were fascinating. Fig and Bramble was rich in family history, and I’d felt the pride coming off him in waves as if just by working there, he was a part of it.

But way too soon, the tour was over, and he’d disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving me standing in the lobby again staring at the woman I’d heard him refer to as Liv.

“Where did he go?” I’d asked.

“Said he was off for a delivery. He’ll be doing the Waterford run for Alan, I’d imagine. An overnighter, that one.”

So as I’d been escorted into the narrow hallway of business offices and shown the files I’d needed, I’d felt a pang of… something. Loss, perhaps? Disappointment? Maybe I’d wanted to learn a little more about him or share another evening chatting across the bar. Not for any other reason than friendly companionship of course, but it still would have been better than dining alone.

But it turned out to be a moot point because that evening, I had company of another kind.

“Hiya, handsome,” Cait said, sliding into the booth in front of me. “Join you for dinner?”

I looked around the half-full pub, wondering if she’d landed at the wrong table.

“Um, I’m fine,” I said.

She flashed me a giant grin full of straight white teeth. “You sure are. So, what are you ordering? Do you need a suggestion? I’m Cait, by the way.”

“Yes, I know. I’m Hudson.” I glanced at the menu in my hands and back up at her. “I was just going to get the coddle again.”

“Pfft. Now why in the world would you do that? Don’t you want to try something new?”

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Why did everyone think trying new things was a good idea? Sometimes old favorites were better. Comfortable. Expected. Predictable. “I liked it. Why order something different when I know there’s already something I like on the menu?”

“Spoken like a man who only dines at his local chip shop,” she said with a chuckle. “Have the beef and Auld Best stew. I guarantee you’ll like it as much as the coddle. Our recipe is the best stew around, and it’s a cold enough night for it. Auld Best is the brewery’s stout. Kind of like Guinness, yeah?”

When I’d been seated in this booth, I’d felt a shimmer of happiness that it was located next to the fireplace with its huge wood-burning fire. I’d gone for a short walk before dinner to see the ocean beyond the cliffs and had gotten cold enough to be grateful for the cozy warmth. Cait was right: a stew seemed just the thing for such a night.

“Sold,” I said, laying down my menu. “But don’t make me drink a pint of Auld Best with it. Not sure my head or stomach can handle any more of Fig and Bramble’s special brews.”

Cait threw her head back and let out a laugh. “My brother did you wrong last night, is that what you’re saying?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, it was all Charlie’s fault.” My gut did a mini pirouette at the feel of Charlie’s name in my mouth, and I quickly told it to stand the hell down. No silly butterflies for the bartender when I was supposed to be here working to impress Bruce Ames.

I wanted the promotion he’d dangled in front of me when he’d hired me. If I could get the vice president title, I could check off one of my biggest goals. In order to do that, I had to stay focused on my job.

“Speaking of my brother…” Cait began in a teasing tone.

I just stared at her and kept my mouth shut. She tilted her head to study me. “Did something happen on your tour today?”

“Why do you ask that?” I asked, my voice going just a bit too high.

“Because he volunteered for the most dreadful delivery run we do.”

Volunteered? I’d assumed it was part of his job.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. After our tour, the woman at the front desk said he was off on a delivery route, but as far as I knew, that was normal for him.”

“He hates deliveries, especially to Waterford.”

“Why Waterford?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Her lips pursed. “Shitty ex-boyfriend lives there. Pat works for our largest customer in Waterford and always makes the delivery hell on Charlie.”

Prickles of unease assaulted my skin. “Like how?”

She shrugged and took a sip of my soda without asking. “Sometimes it’s little annoyances like saying he’s too busy to take delivery during the afternoon, so he makes Charlie come back at midnight. Sometimes it’s more personal than that. He touches him without asking, cries about wanting Charlie back. One time, Pat told Charlie to come into his office for some paperwork, and when they got to the office, Pat had some guy naked on the sofa where they’d clearly just been fucking. Drives Charlie bonkers.”

I winced at her straightforward language and the image of Charlie being put in those uncomfortable situations. My nostrils flared and my fingernails bit into the skin of my palms as my hands fisted. The urge to rush out of there and find a ride to Waterford was like a living thing beneath my skin.

“Why does he do it, then? Why not get someone else to deliver to Waterford?” My voice was grumblier than normal, and I realized belatedly this was affecting me more than it should. I didn’t really know any of these people.

“He did. That’s what I’m saying. He came home from that one and said never again. So why the fuck would he volunteer to do it? Did he make a pass at you and get rejected or something?”

My heart thumped faster in my chest. “What? No.”

Not exactly.

I felt like I owed her more than that. “I’m… I’m straight.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Now I was annoyed. “Why do you both think I’m gay? I’m not.”

Cait held her hands up. “Calm down, Hudson. No need to get all bent out of shape. It’s just clear to me, and most likely Charlie too, that you’re attracted to him. If you’re worried about him wanting more than a quick hookup, don’t be. He’s sworn off relationships. They always seem to bite him in the arse, Pat being just one of many.”

That angered me even more. Charlie was a sweet and fun guy. He deserved to find someone to spend his life with instead of settling for a quick fuck. Dammit, just the thought of him fucking random guys made me want to kick something.

I looked around at the historic pub, realizing it couldn’t be easy for a gay man to find true love in the middle of nowhere on the Irish coast. “Has he ever thought about moving to a bigger city?”

“He’d hate the city. Needs to be near sheep. He’s a successful breeder and trainer for trial dogs. It’s a side business we keep trying to get him to pursue full-time. But he can’t leave the pub. The man’s loyalty is as big as his heart. He’s not just a bartender though. He’s the fix-it man around here. Does what needs doing, regardless of what it is. Honestly, Dev would be lost without him, and Charlie knows that.”

I wondered, not for the first time, if Charlie knew his boss was attempting to sell half the business. I tried reminding myself it was none of my concern. Why did I even care? Perhaps it was just the need to have a conversation with another human being rather than sitting and eating dinner in silence.

The rest of our shared dinner was spent in lighter conversation, though I had to admit it was hard to keep my thoughts from straying to Charlie. Cait told me about her time at college, her boyfriend, Donny, and his plans to move them to Cork, and her hope of finding a job there in corporate marketing. I told her the comedic version of Darci and the messed-up accidental proposal, and we laughed at the similarities and differences between our two cultures. It was a nice, comfortable dinner, and I enjoyed the easy company.

I spent the next couple of days trying my best to focus on the work I was there to do. What should have been comfortably endless hours of profit and loss statements, distribution analysis, market assessments, and other reports required in order for me to make my recommendations were actually a torturous chore as my thoughts kept going back to the one place… or person, rather, they shouldn’t.

And the nights were even worse because they were full of dreams I’d never had before.

Warm skin covered in coarse hair, the scrape of prickly scruff against the sensitive skin of my neck, deep-voiced grunts and moans, and the absolute giving over of myself to hot, sweaty sex unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

Sex with a man.

Sex with Charlie.

By the time he returned to the pub three days later, I was desperate to find out if the reality of sex with a man was anything at all the way it had seemed in my dreams. I’d spent hours debating whether or not I could bring myself to sleep with a man, but when the hottest dream of my life happened the night before Charlie came home, I awoke gasping and rock hard, realizing five seconds of sex with Charlie in my dream was better than any sex I’d ever had with anyone in real life.

I wondered if I could ever get up the nerve to try it. Just sex. Just to see once and for all what my brothers were always bragging about. Surely I wouldn’t actually like it. I couldn’t have possibly made it to the age of thirty-four not knowing I was attracted to men. Could I maybe… experiment? I’d never done anything crazy in college or any other time, really. But perhaps the lady on the plane was spot-on when she said I needed to live a little.

Everyone had at least one big insane sexual exploit they could look back on and reminisce about, right? Didn’t I deserve to go wild for once and do something impulsive and crazy?

But I knew I wouldn’t do it. After everything Cait had told me about Charlie being used by assholes in the past, the last thing in the world I wanted was to be another asshole added to his list. I never wanted to be the cause of pain for such a sweet man.

In addition to not wanting to use Charlie that way, I just wasn’t a casual-sex guy. While I was Mr. Wilde, I wasn’t Mr. Wild. I wasn’t impulsive or crazy. I was a serial monogamist, always the dutiful boyfriend. I was the guy who opened doors for women and who knew how to buy tampons. I knew when to offer a woman Ben & Jerry’s after a bad day and when to offer her my suit jacket against the cold.

And I liked that. I liked having a woman’s softness and sweetness pressed up against me. I liked having someone to protect and take care of. I liked the idea of building a steady life with someone back home and settling down near my family.

No. I’d just go home and let my life get back to normal. Recommend the acquisition and move on with my life and career in Dallas.

It was fine.

I was fine.