Текст книги "Release Me"
Автор книги: Ann Marie Walker
Соавторы: Amy K. Rogers
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Chapter Seventeen
Allie stared up at the fifty-foot spruce that towered over Daley Plaza. All at once memories of her as a small girl, wearing a white fur coat and standing on a dais between her parents as the mayor flipped the switch to light the city’s official Christmas tree, filled her mind. She remembered the collective gasp from the people who gathered in front of the stage and the hundreds more who milled around the Christkindlmarket. Year after year she’d had the best seat in the house. But secretly she’d longed to join the other children, eating fried dough covered in powdered sugar while watching with wide eyes as glassblowers created ornaments for their parents to take home and hang on the family tree.
“So what exactly is a Christkind?” Hudson asked, pulling her from her childhood memories. He’d groused about their little holiday adventure, lobbying hard for a day in bed as opposed to one spent among “the masses of people buying items they neither need nor really want.” But he’d come around once they were out on the snow-covered streets. And looking at him now, his hand linked with hers as they stood side by side amidst complete holiday mayhem, Allie couldn’t help but smile. For as different as their backgrounds were, when it came to the holidays at least, they had one thing in common: neither of them had fond memories. As she reveled in the love reflected in his warm gaze, Allie realized this was a second chance for both of them. They had each other now, and together they could create new memories that would slowly replace the old ones. Together they would find their way.
“Well, the Christkind,” she began, reciting the story she’d heard dozens of times growing up, “is a fairylike angel, dressed in white-and-gold robes and wearing a crown on top of her long golden hair. According to folklore, she is the bearer of gifts to children in German-speaking countries, leaving the presents under the Christmas tree and disappearing before they can catch a glimpse of her.”
“So a cross between the tooth fairy and Santa Claus?” Hudson somehow managed to keep a straight face, but the amusement in his eyes was evident.
Allie laughed. “Something like that.”
“And all this?” He gestured to the red-and-white striped tents arranged in rows under the shadow of the steel Picasso.
“This is the Christkindlmarket.”
He lifted a dark brow. “Which is?”
“C’mon,” she said, tugging him. “I’ll show you.”
Hudson chuckled quietly as she pulled him into the crowd. Although only a few blocks away in actual proximity, the Christkindlmarket seemed a world away from the retail giants of State Street and the Magnificent Mile. In the plaza outside Daley Center, dozens of merchants sat in small tents selling classic German products like nutcrackers, cuckoo clocks, and beer steins, while others offered handmade jewelry, clothes, and toys. Some even demonstrated their handiwork for customers, carving wood or blowing glass for those captivated by the idea of purchasing items directly from their workbenches.
They strolled hand in hand through the maze of tents until Hudson paused in front of one selling what appeared to be small wooden carousels. Each had several tiers decorated with intricately carved figurines and were surrounded by small white candles at their base. On top sat what looked like helicopter blades.
“We had one of these when I was a kid,” he said. His voice was so soft, Allie barely heard him.
When he was a kid. Hudson hardly ever mentioned his past, must less his childhood. A hundred questions popped into Allie’s head. But wanting to take things at the pace he needed, she kept herself from bombarding him and instead asked only one. “What is it?”
“A Christmas pyramid. When the candles are lit the heat rises and spins the propellers.” He reached out and with one finger gave the delicate paddles a gentle push. All at once the tiers began to rotate in alternating directions.
“It’s beautiful.” Growing up, her house had been decorated by the same people who did the windows at Marshall Field’s. And yet as she watched the pyramid turn, picturing a wide-eyed Hudson watching it as a child, she realized she’d never seen a holiday decoration she liked more.
“Nicky was obsessed with the damn thing, constantly trying to figure out what made it work. Only problem was, as soon as he touched it all the blades would fall out.” His lips were pressed together in a hard line, but at the mention of his brother a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “He would get so frustrated. But then I’d rebuild it for him and he’d do it again not five minutes later.”
Allie touched Hudson’s arm. “You’ve always been so good with him.”
Hudson frowned. “My mom used to put it on the table like a centerpiece. Even after . . .” His voice trailed off and they stood quietly for several moments until the spinning slowed to a stop.
“Let’s get one,” Allie said. “We can put it on the dining room table at your penthouse.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need a bunch of clutter. I like things simple, orderly.”
She placed her hand on the side of his face, urging him to look at her. “I’d like to have one. And imagine how excited Nick will be to see it.” She could see the internal debate flit across his eyes. “And as for clutter, you better get over that right now, Chase, because I have carte blanche when it comes to decorating.”
He lifted a brow. “Carte blanche?”
“Well, for the next few weeks, at least.”
“On whose approval?” he asked, unable to hide his grin.
“Mine. Didn’t you get that memo?” she teased.
“No, I must have missed that one among the hundred or so others.” He brushed his lips across hers. “You’re quite remarkable, do you know that?”
Allie leaned back to look at him. “Does this mean we’re getting one?”
“Hmm. Seems I’m incapable of denying you anything. Pick your favorite.”
“Oh no,” she said. “You’re the resident pyramid expert. You choose.” She smacked a swift kiss against his lips. “Meet me at the wrapping paper tent when you’re done.”
Hudson groaned, but as she walked away she stole a glance over her shoulder. He looked relaxed and happy as he chatted with the woman boxing up the pyramid he’d selected. Allie wondered idly if it was similar to the one he’d had as a child. Not that it mattered. The important thing was he’d faced a memory from his past. And more than that, he’d been willing to share it with her.
She smiled to herself as she wandered over to a table covered with every type of wrapping paper and ribbon imaginable. For several minutes she sifted through the rolls of brightly colored foils and prints, debating which ones would be best suited for the gifts they’d selected earlier for Harper and Nick.
“You didn’t tell me they sold beer,” Hudson said, strolling up beside her. He was holding a stein of beer in one hand and what appeared to be a tiny boot in the other. “Genius, really. Makes the Christmas shopping experience all the more tolerable.” He held out the boot for her to take.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Something called gluehwein, which according to the man dressed in lederhosen, is a hot spiced wine. Complete with a souvenir cup,” he added with a smirk. “That I somehow suspect is going to end up on display in my game room.”
Allie smiled. “What a wonderful idea. It will look great behind the bar. You can put it on one of the glass shelves right next to the Baccarat.”
“Keep teasing me and I won’t buy you that fried dough you’ve had your eye on since we arrived.”
Allie’s mouth popped open. How in the world did he always seem to know exactly what she was thinking?
Hudson’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “Like I said, Alessandra, I’ve become quite adept at reading your body.” He dropped his lips to her ear. “Especially what it hungers for.” His words were like an incendiary device, setting her every nerve aflame. “Drink your wine.”
She took a sip of wine from the small boot, letting the spiced liquid warm her insides. Something on the display in front of them caught Hudson’s eye. He lifted a wide spool of red satin ribbon from the table.
“This looks promising,” he murmured, adding it to the pile of wrapping paper Allie had already selected. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed his credit card over to a woman in a green elf hat.
“Planning to wrap a few presents, Mr. Chase?”
“One in particular.” A wicked gleam flashed in his eyes. “And I plan to unwrap it as well.”
Allie smiled over the rim of her cup, loving his playful, happy mood.
Hudson gathered their bags. “Now tell me, what’s left on your list of Christmas torture?”
“Why can’t you just admit you’ve enjoyed this?”
“While I’ll admit I have enjoyed spending time with you, I’m ready to get you home.” He lowered his voice to a rough whisper. “And naked.”
Allie looked around and was relieved to find no one within earshot.
“I let you convince me the ride to State Street was too quick for a limo reenactment, and I was even on my best behavior at Macy’s, despite some very fond memories making me inconveniently hard while you debated two shades of blue I’m quite certain were exactly the same. But if I’m out here much longer I won’t be held accountable for my actions. There’s bound to be an empty tent somewhere in this village, and if you don’t let me take you home soon, I’m going to fuck you in one of them and I don’t care who hears us.”
Allie nearly choked on her wine. “You wouldn’t dare.” The words left her mouth without much forethought and she regretted it the moment they did. The look on Hudson’s face told her not only would he absolutely follow through on that dark promise, but that he was seriously considering acting on it at that very moment. He opened his mouth to reply and she pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t answer that.”
He lifted an impatient brow.
“I need to get a gift for my new assistant and I really should get something for Ben Weiss. But other than that, just the tree.”
Hudson groaned against her fingertips.
“Two hours, tops.” She lifted her fingers from his lips and replaced them with a soft kiss. “Then I’m all yours for the rest of the night.”
“You’re all mine for a hell of a lot longer than that,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back and making his counter offer. “I’ll agree to ninety minutes and not a second more.”
She was about to lodge a protest but he cut her off.
“Relax. They’re selling trees at the far corner of the plaza and I’m fairly sure even your Olympic caliber debating skills can decide on a tree and two gifts in an hour and a half.”
“Hudson, I can’t possibly do all that in ninety minutes.”
He looked at his watch. “Eighty-nine. Do you really want to stand here discussing this?” he asked with a smirk.
Oh, he was impossible. And aggravating. And . . . and what the hell was wrong with her? The man standing in front of her, looking unbelievably sexy in dark jeans, a black leather jacket, and perfectly mussed hair, wanted to take her home and fuck her senseless and she was negotiating shopping time?
Seriously, Sinclair, pick your battles.
Hudson wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him as he led her to the far side of the plaza where she selected an evergreen tree in record time. She checked her phone while Hudson paid the salesman and arranged for the delivery. There were a few e-mails from work, a list of messages from Colin, all of which could wait until Monday, and a text from Harper.
Assuming lack of call = hot night of unbridled passion?
Allie laughed as she replied: You read too many romance novels.
Little dots appeared almost immediately to indicate Harper was typing. Allie shook her head. Sometimes it seemed like that phone was surgically attached to her.
1.You can NEVER read too many romance novels.
2.How are you texting me with your hands cuffed to a headboard?
Allie felt her face blush a deep red. She’d never divulged the kinkier details of her time with Hudson. Actually, come to think of it, she’d never really divulged any details at all. But Harper had a vivid imagination and no qualms about sharing it. Only problem was, this time she was right.
We’re shopping for a tree.
Her phone lit up with: Assuming shopping for tree = hot afternoon of unbridled passion? Which was followed almost immediately by: Have I asked you if the Buff Billionaire has a brother?
Call you Monday.
Monday?! Wow, this is gonna be good. I better hear the whole . . .
Harper was still typing as Allie tucked her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. Hudson was suddenly behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist and his lips at her ear. “You disappoint me, Miss Sinclair.”
Allie turned to find his other hand holding a sprig of mistletoe high above their heads.
“All this talk of Christmas traditions and you failed to mention the most important one.” His lips hovered just above hers. “I’d have thought you more thorough than that.”
“Whatever will I do to make it up to you?” she breathed. Cupping the nape of his neck, she pulled his mouth down to hers. She’d meant for it to be nothing more than a sweet, tender kiss, something suitable for public consumption. But then her lips parted and his tongue slid inside, savoring her in lush, deep strokes, and all thought of where they were left her. All she could think about was this man, this moment, and how desperately she wanted him.
He groaned into her mouth as he deepened the kiss, his tongue licking, tasting, teasing in that way that made her long to feel him kiss the rest of her body with the same fervor. And when his hand slid down her backside, urging her tight against him, she raked her fingers into his hair.
His head lifted and he gazed down at her with hooded blue eyes. “Christ, Allie, please tell me we can go home now.”
“Miss Sinclair?”
Allie turned to find her assistant standing not three feet away. “Colin,” was all she said, then they stared at each other for several beats of awkward silence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hudson attempt to discreetly rub her lipstick from his bottom lip with the side of his index finger. While she appreciated the effort, after what Colin had just witnessed, it was way too late for discreet. And what the heck was Colin doing at the Christmas village in the middle of the afternoon, anyway?
“So, taking a late lunch?” she asked in a lame attempt to deflect attention away from the elephant in the room. Hell, forget the room, the elephant was charging the plaza, stomping all over the Christmas trees.
Colin pressed his lips together to stifle the grin that was threatening to bust his face wide open. “Things have been slow today with the boss lady home sick.”
Beside her Hudson laughed out loud.
“Touché.” After a resigned sigh she came clean. “I assume I can trust you to keep quiet about this?”
“Pfft.” His hand batted the air. “Please, I’ve known since the gala.”
Allies eyes grew wide. “Well, alrighty then.” She looked at Hudson, who was absolutely no help at all, then back to Colin. “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
Colin gave a quick nod to them both before beating a hasty retreat toward the cuckoo clock tent. Once he was out of earshot she turned her attention to Hudson. “This is going to be an issue.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“The last thing I need is people gossiping about us, Hudson.”
He pulled her back into his arms. “Allie, take a breath. We were never planning on keeping this a secret. At least I sure as hell wasn’t. As long as I’ve known you there’s been something or someone standing in our way. We’re finally together and it fucking works. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let fear of a little office gossip keep us apart.”
He had a point. But still, she hadn’t planned on her assistant catching them grinding on each other like a couple of teenagers. Jesus, she needed to get a grip. The thought had no sooner entered her mind when Hudson lifted the mistletoe back over her head.
“Now, where were we?”
The phone in her pocket began to ring.
“Don’t answer it,” he said, leaning down to kiss her neck. “You’re home sick in bed, remember?”
She rolled her eyes as she fished the phone out of her pocket. “I need to get this,” she said when she saw their general counsel’s name flash on the screen.
Hudson groaned against her skin.
“What can I say, comes with the territory when you’re dating a powerful executive,” she teased just before pressing the green answer button. “Hello,” she said into the phone.
Hudson resumed his amorous pursuits, letting his lips drift up the column of her throat.
“Alessandra, I’m sorry to bother you, but this really couldn’t keep until Monday. There’s been a break in the case. They found the person who killed your parents.”
Allie stepped back, trying to process what she was hearing. “Are they sure?”
Hudson’s brow knit together. “What is it?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Weiss said. His voice wavered when he added, “he had your mother’s ring.”
Allie rubbed at the stabbing pain in her chest. “Have they arrested him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
There was a long silence. “He’s dead. Apparent heroin overdose.”
Dead? Dozens of emotions ran through Allie’s mind, ranging from anger to frustration and then, finally, relief. There would be no trial, no long drawn-out media display. She could mourn her parents in private and get on with the business of living her life. “So it’s over?”
“Not quite.”
“What do you mean?”
“The police were able to identify him.” Weiss paused, and she imagined him taking a sip of water, or maybe wiping his brow with the starched handkerchief he always kept folded in his breast pocket. She heard him take a deep breath. “He’s a professional, Alessandra. A hit man. The police have had their eye on him for a while, with other cases, but haven’t had the proof they needed to bring him in.”
Allie’s throat grew tight.
“I wish you’d reconsider letting Clayton go,” he said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.
“I appreciate your concern, Ben, but I’m not interested in having a bodyguard.”
“What the hell is going on, Allie?” Hudson asked. He wasn’t even trying to keep his voice down anymore. He ran a hand back through his hair, impatiently waiting while she ended the call. “What happened?” he asked the moment she hung up the phone.
“They found the man who shot my parents.” She felt the words come out of her mouth, but the voice that was speaking them didn’t sound like her own.
“I gathered that much. Why didn’t they arrest him?”
“He’s dead.”
“Thank fuck.”
Allie shook her head. “No.”
“Why, what else did Weiss say?”
“He was a hit man,” she whispered.
Hudson dug his phone out of his pocket without saying another word. The tension in his body was palpable, rolling off of him in waves.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Max.” He pressed the phone to his ear. “I want him to have a team in place within the hour.”
Allie reached for his phone. “No, you heard what I said to Mr. Weiss. I’m not interested in having a bodyguard. Whatever enemies my dad had, they’re not mine.”
He blew out an exasperated breath. “You don’t know that.”
“I know that I’m happy, Hudson, really happy. And I’m not going to let some businessman with a grudge ruin it.”
Hudson glanced anxiously at the hundreds of people milling around the plaza. “At least let me get you out of here.”
“We still have the two gifts—”
“Allie, stop. I just got you back. It scares the hell out of me that some lunatic might take you away from me.” He swallowed. “Please, let me take you home.”
Yes, home. That was what Hudson was to her, and that was where she needed to be. She nodded and he exhaled a sigh of relief as he pulled her into his arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Considering the hardball convincing he’d attempted to get Allie to hang at his place that night, Hudson couldn’t believe he was letting her out of his sight. There was an unknown variable out there targeting the Sinclair family and probably gunning for Allie next. He needed some modicum of control over this sitch, along with a shit-ton of security cocooning her from harm. A man in his position had the corporate version of Blackwater at his disposal: ex MI6, FBI, Special Forces, even Israeli Intelligence. He’d utilize the fuck out of them if it meant keeping Allie safe. But at the moment all he had to offer her was Max, and while he trusted the man with his own life on a daily basis, having Allie beyond the penthouse walls put him on edge.
The elevator let out a discreet bing. Nick stepped off, not bothering to look up from texting on his cell phone as he strolled into the foyer. “Yo, bro, gotta do something about that new door dude. The dipshit wanted to play a game of twenty questions and who-the-fuck-its.” Nick’s thumbs rapid-fired over the phone screen. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath.
“He’s doing his job, Nick.” Hudson slid Allie’s coat over her shoulders at the same time she tugged her hair free from the collar. “And quit putting so much effort into looking like shit,” he added after getting a better look at his kid brother. Forget about the long overdue haircut, the clothes he favored needed to bypass a thrift shop and head straight to an incinerator.
“Like your sorry ass looks any . . .” Nick looked up and halted midsentence as Allie breezed past him toward the elevator.
“Hi Nick, bye Nick.” She glanced over her shoulder at Hudson. “Don’t decorate that tree without me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Hudson said with a dry exhale. “Let me walk you out.” He strode past a stymied Nick. “Not a word from you, feel me?”
“Ah, shit, bro, you make it too easy.” Nick shoved his phone into the pocket of way overwashed jeans with holes splitting the knees.
Hudson stopped in front of Allie as she wrapped the cashmere scarf around her neck. He could feel his brother’s eyes on them. “Don’t you have a fridge to raid or something?” he asked him.
The smart-ass grin on Nick’s face as he strolled out of the room would have pissed Hudson off if he weren’t so fucking glad to see him smile. udson poff of her werenmt so fucking lgald to see him smil
Still, he waited until Nick was in the kitchen making himself at home before launching a last-ditch effort.
“I can’t strengthen my case on why you should stay here?” He popped a button on her coat, and just as she finished doing it up, he’d freed another.
Allie laughed. “Quit.” She batted his hand away and made quick work refastening the button. “I told you, I’m not intruding on ‘boy’s night.’”
“You won’t be. This place has three floors, for Christ’s sake. Watch a movie in the theater or . . .” Hudson’s lips curved into a sinful grin. “Lounge in my bed naked, waiting for me. Whatever you want. Though I prefer the latter.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, it will give you a chance to miss me.”
“I’ve spent a lifetime missing you.” He dropped a kiss on her lips.
She smiled. “Then you’ll survive one more night.”
“Max is driving you and will wait at your brownstone until morning.”
“Hudson, that’s not necessary.”
“It’s non-negotiable, Alessandra. If you’re leaving my place, he’s going with you. Here.” Hudson handed her a key card with carte blanche access.
Allie raised a brow.
“This way you won’t have to call up tomorrow. Of course, if you wanted to come by later, I certainly wouldn’t object.”
“Ah, settin’ up a booty call,” Nick said as he cut through the foyer. He had a bag of Doritos in one hand and a box of Swedish fish in the other.
“Shut up, Nick.” Hudson glared in his direction, but Nick was already bounding up the stairs two at a time.
“Oh, I can tell tonight is going to be one for the books,” Allie said. As she backed into the elevator a slow smile curved her lips. “But who knows, maybe I’ll surprise you with a wake-up call.”
Hudson groaned and pushed a hand through his hair. The look she gave him made his cock twitch, but when the doors hushed closed the ache he felt whenever she left set up shop in his chest. His brother better fucking appreciate this, he thought as he turned on his heel and stalked up the stairs.
“Well, well, well, how the mighty have fallen,” Nick said the moment Hudson walked into the game room. He’d already stripped his jacket off and flung it on the leather chesterfield. “That’s a new development. Finally relocated your balls and called her, huh?”
Hudson cut his brother a sharp look. “Don’t start, Nick.” God help him, tonight was going to be an eternity without her, not to mention painful if his brother kept up this shit.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Nick shook his head, a shit-eating grin on his face and a not-letting-this-go gleam in his eye. “You’re even more pussywhipped than you were back in the day.”
“Zip it, Nick.”
“Come on, bro, lighten up.” He laughed. “You’re like the pussy whisperer. You usually got them lined up.”
Hudson came to a halt. “Don’t push me on this. She’s just . . .” He thought about Allie and all her quirks. That it took her ten minutes to order a damn coffee, the way she had fifty questions lined up after he said a single sentence, and how the only way to shut her up was to kiss her senseless.
“She’s just what, got you by the balls?”
“The heart, man. The fucking heart.” He exhaled and cocked a slight grin. “I love her.”
“Hey, sorry for poppin’ shit. But that’s what little brothers do, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know. Now can I school your punk ass in a game of pool?”
“As if.” Nick flopped over the back of the couch and stretched out on the tufted leather. “I think I missed this room most of all.”
Hudson chuckled. “This is what you missed the most?” The game room was a dark, luxurious space that kept in time with the era of the building, but with a modern spin. The place had it all: poker and pool tables, flat screens and surround sound, couches to comfortably seat ten, a fireplace to take the chill off or to set the mood, a bar with every conceivable liquor, beer, or beverage of choice, and of course, the infamous dart board. Nick always said the only thing missing was a peanut warmer and permission to toss his shells on the floor. But after thirty days locked up with nothing but basic cable and institutional food, Hudson wouldn’t have thought the game room topped Nick’s list.
“Shit, yeah. Your house is Disneyland for adults. And not Anaheim Disney, but frickin’ Orlando Disney.”
Hudson smirked. He and Allie had certainly turned the room into their own Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, rattling a few chains, so to speak.
“Then there’s your ‘Black Book,’ which is Magic Mountain. You know they have an app for that? A stripper pole would make it heaven, icing on the cake.”
“Not a chance in hell.” Hudson hit the switch to the Art Deco Tiffany chandelier spotlighting the table’s red baize.
Nick sat up and dragged a hand through his hair. Damn, the two of them were more alike than he’d ever admit. “Ah, come on. Don’t go soft on me. You’re like, shit, I don’t know, the god of Penthouse.”
“Playboy.” Hudson corrected. “The place was the headquarters of Playboy. And I excel at never being soft.”
“TMI.” Nick collected the balls from the pockets and racked them up. He gave them a quick one-two rollup and back and they clacked together. “My bad.” He hung the triangle back on its designated hook. “Dudes in rehab were like, when can I come over and kiss the wood Hefner walked on? You could charge admission.”
Hudson grabbed a couple of cues off the wall. “Admission and stripper poles, huh? Any other plans you have for my apartment?”
“Nah, that about covers it. And apartments are rinky-dink in the size department. This is a penthouse. An apartment is what I live in.”
“Wouldn’t know it with how much time you’re parking your ass over here.” Hudson tossed a cue to Nick, who caught the stick in midair.
“I like being here.”
“Go ahead and break.” Hudson walked over to the fridge behind the bar and gripped the cool steel handle. “Something to drink?” Fuck, the question was as ritualistic as brushing your teeth in the morning. He looked through the glass into the fully stocked stainless box. He was an asshole, he thought, for not cleaning the thing out. “Shit.” His hand dropped, and he did a one-eighty to face his brother. “I’m sorry, Nick.”
“Look, I’m cool.” Nick chalked up his cue. “Old habits die hard, huh?”
Hudson let out a short chuckle. “Case in point.”
“Have a beer, whatever you want. I’m good.”
“I don’t want to make it harder on you than it already is.”
“Part of the deal is learning how to cope with people drinking around me. So for fuck’s sake, bro, have what you want.” Nick took his shot and the balls cracked together and scattered. “Besides, I’ll still kick your ass,” he said as three balls sank with that one stroke. “Solids.”
“Jesus, Nick.” Hudson yanked open the fridge and grabbed two sparkling waters. Usually pool and the cold and frothy were synonymous, but tonight he was more interested in being with his brother than having a beer. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d simply played a game of pool or just hung out with Nick, listening to him spout off wisecracks. Although, he wasn’t completely at ease. Allie was outside of these walls, and his past kept showing up in his head like a goddamn slideshow. But he was no more ready to Dr. Phil those memories than he was to have a root canal. And he sure as hell wasn’t ready to lose this game.
Nick missed his next shot. “Ah, fuck. You’re up.”
“Luck only gets you so far,” Hudson said, walking around to the opposite side of the table before leaning over the felt. “Skill always prevails.” He took his shot and sank two stripes.
Nick cranked the surround with Volbeat’s “Pool of Booze, Booze, Booza.” Strong guitar riffs and the deep baritone of the lead singer’s Denmark accent pounded off the walls. Nick cocked a smart-ass grin. Leave it to his brother to find the humor and lighten the mood.
Hudson shook his head and smiled. “Nice choice.” As he sank another ball, all the shit he was stuffing down sank with it. But he was a bomb ready to explode.
