You Make Me Weak (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake Book 1) Read online

  There was still something there between them.

  That ache inside her exploded until it spread through her body like a train barreling down the track. Her heart rushed to keep up, and she stumbled a bit, dizzy and hot and suddenly more scared than she wanted to be.

  She needed to be away from him.

  Needed to assuage the ache inside her.

  Needed to think straight.

  Rebecca never said a word. She took off toward the dance and left Hudson by his truck. She didn’t look back, though she felt the heat of his gaze on her. She didn’t stop walking until she reached the bar and handed over a ticket to the bartender. She decided she needed the hard stuff to get her through.

  She turned to face the dance floor and took a sip of the vodka and soda. Almost instantly, she caught a smile from Nate Smith. Usually, she ignored that sort of thing. But tonight? Right now? She smiled back. There were several men in the room she knew were interested in her. Several men to choose from. Maybe it was about time she took care of a few things. Maybe then she wouldn’t turn into an idiot when she saw Hudson Blackwell. She had an empty house tonight, and she needed a man. It shouldn’t be hard.

  “You look like you’re on a mission.” Violet slid up beside her.

  “I am.”

  “Should I ask?”

  “I need to get laid.”

  Violet nodded. “Girl, I’ve been telling you that for six months.” She paused and glanced around the room. “What about Derek Silver?”

  “No. He used to date Nadine, remember?”

  “Right. That would be weird.” Violet’s forehead crinkled. “Jonathan Lambert?”

  “No. He’s too pretty.”

  Violet made a face. “Braedon Sanders?”

  It was Rebecca’s turn to make a face. “Seriously? He’s been with half the girls in town.”

  “I know.” Violet giggled. “And he’s supposed to be hung like a horse.” Violet’s smile faded. “This might sound crazy, but there’s Hudson—”

  “Are you kidding me?” Rebecca snapped.

  “He’s looking this way and—”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Adam says he’s single, divorced or something. He said Hudson was asking after you, and it’s obvious you guys have unfinished business. Maybe the two of you—”

  “Are you not hearing me?” Irritated, she glared at her girlfriend.

  “O-kaaay,” Violet replied, eyes moving over the crowded room once more. “Who’s it going to be?”

  Fueled by vodka and the need to do something about the pathetic state of her personal life, Rebecca scanned the room, eyes on a tall, dark man who’d just walked into the dance. He strode through the crowd until he reached Violet’s husband. Of course Hudson was there, and by the looks of it, the guy was someone they all knew.

  “Is that…?”

  Violet followed Rebecca’s gaze and frowned. “Ethan Burke. It has to be. God, he got hotter with age.” Violet paused. “Isn’t he going to be your boss?”

  “Maybe.” Was it the alcohol talking? “It’s not a done deal from what I’ve heard.”

  “You don’t seem to care.”

  Rebecca shook her head slowly. “I don’t.”

  “Okay, then.” Violet tugged on her arm. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 5

  At his job, Hudson was the go-to guy. He was even-keeled, worked well under pressure, and had an uncanny ability to analyze a situation—no matter how dire—and make the right call. He’d dealt with cold-blooded killers, terrorists, the dregs of society, and never lost his cool. His peers called him Ice Man, and though he commanded the respect of his team, there was also a healthy dose of intimidation. No one wanted to cross him. No one wanted to see him lose control, because there was a general feeling that once unleashed, he wasn’t the guy to tangle with.

  In fact, some of his crew wondered if he was human.

  And yet in the space of a few hours, Rebecca had managed to press just about every goddamn button he owned, and Hudson was on the fast track to losing it. Big-time. He scowled in the general direction of the dance floor, his eyes on one couple only. Christ, how many slow songs were the band going to perform? And how many times was Ethan Burke going to put his hands all over Rebecca?

  “You okay, Blackwell?” His buddy, Adam Thorne, watched him closely.

  Hudson swore under his breath. Not even close. His jaw was sore from gritting his teeth, and a damn headache was thudding inside his skull. What the hell was he doing here? “I should head home.”

  Adam followed his gaze and was silent for a few moments. “You still got a thing for Rebecca.” It wasn’t a question, and Hudson didn’t bother denying it.

  “I don’t have a right to feel anything where she’s concerned. Gave that up a long time ago.”

  “What happened between you two? You guys were the one couple everyone thought would make it.”

  He turned to Adam. Saw the genuine confusion there, but he didn’t want to get into it. The past wasn’t his friend, and he sure as hell didn’t feel like revisiting it tonight.

  His scowl deepened, and he considered heading back to the bar, but the thought of waiting for a cab or walking out to the lake stopped him in his tracks. A glance at his watch told him it was nearly midnight, and he’d just decided to head out when a woman stepped into his path. Athletic. Blonde. Dress that didn’t cover much. Killer legs and a smile that promised the kinds of things most men wouldn’t be able to say no to.

  Shelli Gouthro. She’d been a good time girl from what he remembered and from the looks of things, not much had changed.

  “Hey, Adam.” Her voice literally purred, and his pal nodded before making a lame excuse to go find his wife, leaving Hudson alone with a woman who was sending him all sorts of invites. It was in the way she stood with her chest pushed out. The open stance of her legs. The swipe of her tongue across her mouth. And definitely the hungry look in her eyes.

  “Hudson Blackwell.” She managed to add at least three more syllables to his name. “Someone told me you were back in town. Glad to see the local gossip was right for once.” She smiled and got right up in his personal space, glancing at his hand with a calculating look in her eye. “You single these days, Hudson?”

  All that restless energy in him rushed to the surface, and, hot, he rubbed the back of his neck while considering his options. Maybe a quick screw was what he needed to get his head back in the game and Rebecca off his mind.

  “You want to buy me a drink?” she asked coyly, swiping that pink tongue of hers along the edge of her mouth once more. She was a fine-looking woman, he’d give her that, and though he’d never sampled her offerings back in the day, he was pretty sure she’d show him a good time tonight. The thought of hot, dirty sex with an attractive woman had never failed to get his motor going. But when she put her hand on his forearm and leaned closer, he had to force himself not to push her away.

  What the hell?

  He didn’t want her. Plain and simple. Well, shit. Cock-blocked by a memory.

  He looked over Shelli’s head, and everything in him stilled as his gaze locked with Rebecca’s. Ethan was motioning with his hands as he spoke, and sure she nodded as if listening to him, but her eyes were glued to Hudson and neither one of them was looking away. In that moment, there was just the two of them, and in a weird way, time stood still.

  The spell was broken when Ethan moved and she disappeared from his line of vision.

  His heart rate quickened, and he clenched his hands into fists, because the urge to stomp over there and plant one of them in Ethan Burke’s nose was strong. And that was insane. Ethan was a good guy, and Hudson had no claim on Rebecca.

  “Hey.” Shelli sounded annoyed and tugged on his arm. “Drink?” she said again, pulling him toward the bar.

  Hudson was so rattled that it took a few seconds for him to get his shit together, and when he did, he pulled his arm from her grasp.

  “Maybe another time.”


  Hudson didn’t wait around for her reaction. He spun on his heels and headed for the doors. His mood was black. His body tense. His gut churned. He never should have come here.

  Hudson made it outside without having to speak to anyone else, and that was a chore in itself. He strode through a crowd of people he’d known his whole life, all of them wanting to say hello or ask after his father or one of his brothers. He kept his head down and didn’t look up until he got to his truck. He made no effort to climb inside but stood there, inhaling that crisp, cold Michigan air he missed more than he cared to admit.

  How long he stood alone in the dark he couldn’t say, but he was cold from the damp when his brain finally told him to get his ass moving. He shoved his hand into his pocket, intent on finding his key, when something made him look up. Sixth sense? Or just the absolute awareness he’d always had for her.

  Rebecca.

  She walked toward him, a little unsteady on her feet, and when she stopped a few feet away, he realized she’d had more than she should to drink. Her cheeks were pink, all that golden hair of hers wild and crazy around her shoulders, and her eyes glittered like glass. Her mouth, that delectable pillow-soft mouth, was parted and her chest rose and fell as if she was having a hard time breathing. Worn denim clung to hips that were rounder than he remembered, and a butt that was made for a man to grab hold of. No longer was she a precocious teenager, a woman-child who’d bloomed beneath his touch. This right here was a full-on, grown-ass lady and she was…

  The hottest thing he’d ever seen.

  “Where’re you going?” She hiccupped beneath a hand and stumbled a bit more. He didn’t mind, because she stumbled toward him. Now she was only a few inches away.

  The slight breeze picked up her scent, and that familiar warm vanilla smell made his gut clench.

  “I was thinking of heading home.” Thinking? Hell, that sounded like indecision, and the only right thing to do was get his ass home and leave her alone.

  “I saw you talking to Shelli.” Her words were slightly slurred and carried a hint of accusation.

  Hudson wasn’t exactly sure where this was headed, but he was more than willing to go along with it. Maybe it was the Michigan air, or the smell of vanilla that permeated it. Or the woman who swayed in front of him, looking up at him with a strange expression.

  “She said hello.”

  “You taking her home?”

  “No.”

  Rebecca cranked her neck to the side and peered behind him. “Why not?”

  Hudson considered his answer and decided to be honest. Hell, what did he have to lose? “I didn’t want to.”

  She muttered something under her breath.

  “What was that?”

  “I said you’re probably the first guy in Crystal Lake who’s ever turned her down. That has to be some kind of record.” Rebecca looked defiant, and he was pretty sure she was spoiling for a fight. He knew the signs—remembered them well.

  “You should get back inside. It’s cold out here.”

  She didn’t respond. Just shook her head and looked at him in silence. It was the strangest few minutes he’d had in a long while, but he’d take them. Just to be here with her. To see her again and hear her voice. To pretend that maybe she still belonged to him. It was easy to do under the cover of darkness.

  “I want to go home,” she said suddenly. Her voice was low, and there was a tremble in her words.

  “I’ll get Violet.” He knew she’d come with Adam’s wife.

  “No.” She exhaled shakily and moved past him, so close he could have touched her. She reached for the door handle on his truck. “You take me.” She slammed the door shut after she climbed in.

  Huh. Hudson wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, and he glanced back toward the barn dance. He should get Violet. That was the right thing to do. But after a few seconds of hesitation, he sent a quick text to Adam, deciding to avoid Violet altogether. He climbed into his truck, fired up the engine, and looked at Rebecca.

  She’d obviously had too much to drink, and he was doing what any good person would do. He’d take her home and make sure she got in safely and then leave. She was fiddling with the seat belt, and he had to lean over to get it locked in place. Her hands grazed the top of his, and it was like a lightning bolt shot through him. Energy, blazing-hot energy, rolled through him, and he moved an inch or so, trying like hell to concentrate, only to find that damn mouth so close to him, it was enough to drive any man crazy.

  Slowly, he looked up, and the dark desire he saw on her face made his blood boil hotter than the goddamn sun.

  Hudson had to clear his throat in order to speak properly, and even then he barely managed to get the words out. “Where am I taking you?”

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and the edge of her pink tongue swept across her bottom lip. Her breath came in short, hard spurts, and something hot tempered the air around them.

  “You remember the old house near the mill?”

  “The one with the porch? The blue shutters?” How in hell he could remember anything was beyond him. Especially when all he could see was that mouth. And that pink tongue.

  She nodded, seemingly deflated, and fell back against the seat just as he managed to lock the seat belt. Rebecca didn’t say another word, and as several couples spilled out into the night, their voices echoing in the dark, he drove away and headed back across the bridge.

  The trip was a short one, maybe three minutes in total, and they drove in silence. Hudson found her place, just past the mill, and pulled into the driveway. He put the truck in Park and glanced over to Rebecca. She was looking at him, and this time, he had no idea what she was thinking.

  “Do you need help to get inside?”

  She scrunched her nose and shook her head. “I’m not drunk.”

  He raised an eyebrow at that, and she giggled. It was a sound straight out of his past, and if he could replay it over and over, he would.

  “I’m not. I know what I’m doing.”

  He’d done his part. It was time for him to leave. Get his head screwed on right.

  “It was good to see you again, Becs.”

  She was silent for a bit and then, after releasing the seat belt all on her own, opened the door. The night air seeped inside his truck as she slipped outside, and small puffs of frosted breath fell from her lips. For a good long while, she looked in at him, standing there with the door open, an odd expression on her face.

  The air between them changed. It became heavy and hot and full of dark and dangerous things. Crazy things. Unexpected things. And, man, that motor of his was purring.

  She exhaled, her forehead furrowed slightly as if she was thinking real hard about something. And then, with a soft shudder, she took a step back.

  “Are you coming in or what?” She didn’t wait for his answer. Rebecca turned and headed for her house. She climbed the stairs and opened the front door before turning around to look down at him.

  The right thing to do was to wave good-bye and leave. Anything else was just plain wrong. Hudson Blackwell lived his life by following the rules. Doing things right. It was his code. It was what made him who he was. Hell, it was why he’d come back to Crystal Lake.

  So why the hell did he step out of his truck? Why the hell did he climb those stairs and follow her into the house?

  They were valid questions, and maybe later he’d think about them. But at the moment, Hudson wasn’t going there.

  Chapter 6

  Rebecca tried real hard to remember the last time she felt like this. And then she tried real hard to think about what it was exactly she was feeling. But her head was fuzzy, and she gave up. Walking into her dark, silent home, she kicked off her boots and headed straight for the kitchen, giving a wide berth to the sheets of drywall and painting supplies near the front door.

  The light above the stove glowed softly. She reached for the fridge and paused when she heard a curse from the front of the house. Guess Hudson hadn’t seen the drywall
.

  Hudson. What the hell was she doing inviting him back here?

  She yanked open the fridge door and immediately went for the chocolate ice cream. It was loaded with chunks of peanut butter, and she had a spoon in her hand before Hudson found his way to the kitchen.

  Her heart jumped at the sight of him. It had always been like that. One look and her body reacted. It was chemical and organic, and she couldn’t seem to control it. She shoved ice cream into her mouth before she said something she’d regret. And regret was definitely on the table. But she didn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, she leaned against the counter, melting that little bit of heaven in her mouth, and watched him.

  It came to her then. The things unsaid. I still want him. Even after everything. The things she felt. Unsure. Excited. Scared. Aroused.

  Hudson had always been a big guy, tall with broad shoulders, and the room seemed to shrink with him in it. His black leather jacket and boots lent an air of danger to the man, but they had nothing on the dark glint in his eyes, or the sensual lift to his mouth.

  Rebecca tried to remember the bad things…the painful things that had ripped them apart. She thought back to that last night—saw a picture in her mind of how she’d cried her heart out. But right now, with him standing a few feet from her, she couldn’t remember how it felt.

  Couldn’t remember because she’d obviously lost her freaking mind.

  She dropped her gaze. God, she must be crazy to be considering the things in her head. She shoved another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

  “Let me guess.” His deep voice startled her, echoing in the silent kitchen, and she jerked her head up. “Chocolate ice cream with chunks of peanut butter.”

  She nodded slowly, swallowing the melted treat. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

  “I remember everything.”

  Her heart suddenly in her throat, Rebecca put the carton of ice cream on the counter and tried to collect her thoughts. A million things swirled through her head, and she gripped the edge of the counter with her fingers, turning the knuckles white.