Free Read Novels Online Home

Filthy Rich Bastard by Evie Monroe, KB Winters (12)

Chapter 12

Hudson

Mia linked her arm with mine, leading me to the back of the property. Her mother had banged on our bedroom door less than five hours after we’d finally gone to sleep, insisting there wasn’t a second to waste.

It was understandable, given the circumstances, but Mia looked like she was about thirty seconds away from throwing something at someone when I suggested we take a break. I didn’t know how much sleep she needed to function normally, but it was clearly more than she’d gotten.

Aside from the stress of having to plan a wedding in a day and a half, there was something going on between Mia and her father.

All I knew for sure was, he wanted her to move back to California, but there was something else. The tension between them that morning was so thick you could cut it with an ice-cold butter knife.

It seemed to really matter to Mia and Alice, for reasons I didn’t understand. I’d tried to question it earlier, but Mia’s grandfather had pulled me aside and imparted what he called his “wedding wisdom.” He told me the key to seamless nuptials was that all anybody wanted or expected from the groom was to show up.

As a result, I’d spent the morning playing chess with him instead of planning the wedding. I figured both of us were relieved.

Mia was quiet as we stepped into the blazing sun, her shoulders tense and jaw clenched. I needed to know what was going on with her, and that she wasn’t thinking about backing out of the wedding.

“So, it’s happening,” I told her, following her to a copse of trees hidden in the corner of the property.

“Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious,” she snapped at me, a deep frown etched on her face. Then she took a deep breath and collected herself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take this out on you.”

We reached the edge of the property. A log lay facing a small fish pond that had been previously hidden from my sight by the dense trees. I stopped at it, took a seat, and pulled her down with me. Reaching up, I rubbed her shoulders. She relaxed into my chest.

Nestled against me as she was, I was aware of every inch of her. The feminine scent of her shampoo drifted to my nose, mixing with the smell of damp earth in a way that was heady, intoxicating.

Her shoulders were soft but firm under my fingertips. Her sundress had ridden up to mid-thigh, exposing creamy flesh that radiated heat into mine, even through my jeans.

Despite the fact I’d taken the edge off in the shower earlier, my cock started to form a noticeable bulge in my jeans. Mercifully, Mia had angled her back slightly to me to give me better access to her shoulders. It was not the time to get hard.

I focused my thoughts on what she was saying rather than what she felt like. “You said you didn’t want to talk about anything serious last night. I’m assuming that whatever it is you shouldn’t be taking out on me is serious. I was simply pointing out it wasn’t last night anymore, so if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“I guess you have a right to know. It kind of involves you now, too.” She sighed, massaging her temples with her index fingers.

A gull squawked in the distance, reminding me how close to the beach we were. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“Remember I told you my dad wanted me to move home?” She shifted to look me in the eye.

“Yeah, you said you didn’t want to.” Shit, how was I going to convince her to stay in Portland until the divorce if her father was putting this much pressure on her? When she could live in a mansion by the ocean?

“I don’t,” she insisted. “When I graduated college, he wanted me to start working in the family business. He wanted to groom me to take it over when he retired.”

“And now he’s retiring.” The pieces clicked into place. “So, he wants you to resign at BC to move back and take over the company.”

“Bingo. I think he was planning on using this week to convince me to do it. Then I showed up with you, and now we’re getting married. He doesn’t like that the fact that the chance of me moving home just became slim to none.” She leaned her head against my shoulder, her breath warming my neck.

To my surprise, I didn’t move away from her. “If it wasn’t for me and this marriage, would you have done it? Moved back and taken over?”

“No,” she answered firmly, then exhaled a deep breath. “I mean, I didn’t want to, but I don’t know if I would’ve caved under pressure if I didn’t have you to lean on.”

Relief washed over me, quickly followed by guilt that I was keeping her from something she might want to do. “Do you want to take over the family business someday?”

“No. I’ve always wanted to work in music. The only family’s business I want to take over is yours.” She shrugged. “I mean, we are going to be family for a little while, you know? Legally, at least.”

I tugged gently at her ponytail so she faced me, and I grinned down at her. “I don’t plan on letting anyone take my business over for a long time, so you’d have to kill me if you want me to retire.”

That earned me a small smile. “Damn. Any chance I could convince you to take early retirement and start golfing or fishing instead?”

My grin grew wider. I shook my head. “No chance whatsoever. Golfing is a necessary evil I endure every once in a while, and I can buy fish if I want it.”

“I thought that might be your answer.” She smiled, then sighed. “You know, I admire your drive. Nothing seems to slow you down. No amount of work is too much.”

“It’s nothing to admire, I don’t slow down because I refuse to go back to where I came from,” I replied darkly.

“You mean Santo Via Island?” She looked at me, eyes full of questions. Her fingers started tracing the outline of the rough bark on the log we were sitting on as she waited for my answer.

“Not so much the country as who I was when I was there.” I surprised myself with my honest answer. I’d never talked to anyone about where I’d come from. Not even Henry knew everything.

“Who were you when you were there?” Her eyes searched mine, her voice soft. Like she knew how hard it was for me to talk about it. Her hand slowly reached for mine, as if it was a subconscious movement to support me. She caught herself and pulled back.

“I was nobody. That was the problem.” It seemed that once I’d opened the honesty tap, it didn’t want to close again. I wanted her to know, even if I had no idea why.

She scoffed. “You could never be a nobody. Not even if you were exiled to North Siberia. You’d probably find a sleuth of bears to control or something.”

Mia’s confidence in her statement made me smile. “I happen to like bears. That actually sounds kind of fun. I always liked Baloo.”

“From the Jungle Book? I didn’t see that one coming.”

“When I was twelve, I found a copy of the book abandoned at a bus stop. I must have read it a thousand times over the years that followed.” What the fuck? Why the hell was I telling her about that? The honesty tap might be open, but it was soul-baring and getting too personal.

“Seriously?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Yup. It was the only book I had. I mean, I visited the public library and read everything I could get my hands on, but the Jungle Book was mine.” I’d opened the door to a line of questioning, and all she was doing was walking through it.

“Right, because you were a nobody?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Exactly. Whatever money I managed to save from odd jobs as a teenager went to food and essentials. I could never waste a cent on myself. No matter how badly I wanted more things of my own.” I toyed with the ends of her hair, trying to push away the bad memories that were rapidly surfacing.

There was a reason I preferred not to even think about my past—never mind talk about it. Yet, I didn’t stop there.

“I came from nothing, Mia. I grew up in poverty so bad that Mom would leave water boiling on the gas stove sometimes until my brother and I fell asleep waiting for food that wasn’t cooking.”

Mia’s eyes welled up with tears. Fuck. The last thing I wanted was her pity.

When I looked down at her though, it wasn’t pity in her eyes. It was pride. My brow furrowed. I wasn’t expecting that.

“You have a brother?” she asked softly.

I laughed humorlessly and dragged a hand through my hair. “Biologically, yes. We haven’t spoken for so long, I don’t think we consider ourselves related anymore. Not really.”

“He’s your blood, Hudson. He’ll always be your brother.” She stated it like it was a matter of fact thing. He may be related to me by blood, but it didn’t make him my brother. At least not in the way Ryan was hers.

It struck me her first question hadn’t been about poverty or the food thing, but about my brother. “From everything I’ve told you, that’s your question?”

“Oh no, I have a ton of questions, I just couldn’t imagine ever being estranged from Ryan. I think it would kill me. Overbearing and protective as he is, he’s still my brother.”

“You’re lucky to be so close to your family,” I said, lowering my head so my lips brushed her hair when I spoke. She shivered.

“Yeah, I guess I am. Tell me about your brother. You’ve seen more than enough of mine.” She intertwined her fingers with mine and rose from the log.

I followed her. “His name is Dakota. He’s about Ryan’s age, he’s thirty-one, right?”

“Yup, twenty-one with ten years’ experience, as he puts it.” A fond smile played on her lips.

“Right, I’m not sure about that, but he and Kota are the same age then.” Since when did I even think about Dakota as Kota anymore?

“Is he still in Santo Via Island?” Her grasp on my hand was firm, even though we were way beyond the tree line. No one could be watching us. I didn’t pull away.

“As far as I know, yeah. Last I heard, he was working some construction job in Pepper Cove.” Even that had to have been at least a year ago.

“Is that where you’re from?” she asked.

Not quite. “I guess you could say I’m from the outskirts of Pepper Cove.”

“When you say last you heard, you mean you haven’t spoken to him yourself?” There was no judgment in her voice.

“Not for a long time.” I wasn’t the one with the grudge. If he wanted to call, he had my number. At least I thought he did, I remembered sending it to him at some point.

A mix of emotions crossed her face. “Why?”

“It’s a long story. The short answer is because I left.” I’d never admitted that out loud. That seemed to be the theme of the day, though, so why the hell stop now?

“He’s angry because you came to America?” She seemed puzzled. “Why would he be so angry at you that he won’t speak to you?”

“I think he’s pissed because I left the family, because I left him behind. Because I refuse to go back.” I massaged the back of my neck.

“Why do you refuse to go back? Don’t you miss them?” There was still no judgment in her voice, only curiosity.

“I have no time to miss them. I promised myself once I got here I’d never be poor again, but making money takes up a lot of time. Getting a label off the ground takes up even more time.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered, shoving my hip lightly with hers. “And I don’t make anywhere near what you do, I’m sure. And I’ve obviously never even tried getting my own label off the ground.”

I scoffed but answered honestly. “You will. Not open your own label, hopefully. But the money will come. You’re already doing really well for yourself. You’re good at your job, Mia. You have to know that. It just doesn’t happen overnight.”

“It did for you,” she argued, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.

I laughed. “Is that what you think?”

“Didn’t it?” She tilted her head at me, challenge in her eyes.

I met it, answering her without hesitation. “Absolutely not.”

“How did you get started then?” She tugged at my hand, rising from our log.

We continued talking as we walked along the back edge of the Doyles’ property. The size of the damn thing was ludicrous. I’d bought a pretty nice place in Portland, but it didn’t come close to this.

“The usual way. Blood, sweat, tears, and more sleepless nights than I care to count.” I shrugged.

She arched a brow and stopped to turn towards me. “Tears?”

“Okay, maybe there weren’t tears.” She had me there.

A gust of wind whipped a few strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail around her face. I reached to tuck them behind her ear. Her cheek warmed under my touch.

The same pride I noticed earlier shone in her eyes as they met mine. My hand still cupped her cheek. No one had ever been proud of me, except for myself. It was a strangely gratifying feeling. “And just look where you are now, tears or not.”

“Yeah, look where I am now.” My arm swept out in a gesture at our surroundings.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I meant look at all you’ve achieved. It’s no wonder you’re fighting so hard to keep it.” She turned, breaking the physical contact between us. My hand was still warm from her cheek. I found myself wanting to return it there.

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep them to myself. “And you didn’t answer my question?”

She rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her full lips. “Clearly, including marrying a complete stranger with a crazy family. And the family business is property development.”

“You’re hardly a complete stranger. I’ve known you for three years. Also, they’re not crazy. Not completely. They just love you.” She held a hand out to me, and I placed my palm in hers without thinking about it. “Maybe I should have considered property development, then.”

Mia laughed, shaking her head at me. “You’d hate it. Besides, why would you? You’re doing great.”

She said things so easily, so honestly. It was refreshing in a world where everyone had an angle.

Mia kept my hand in hers as she led me to a small building tucked into the corner of the far end of the property. It was taller than it should be, hinting towards a second story or a loft or something.

She unlatched the door easily with her free hand and stepped inside. The space was cramped and smelled musty, like it hadn’t had fresh air let into it for a long time.

“What is this?” I asked, noticing several shapes covered with dusty tarps, tools hanging on the walls, and a narrow wooden staircase leading to a pitch-black space above our heads.

“My dad used to use it for storage back when I was a kid. My mom told me once it was stuff he didn’t want to get rid of but didn’t have much use for anymore.” She breathed the place in and sighed, a happy smile playing on her lips.

“You like it here?” I wondered what made her happy about an old storage area.

“Yeah,” she tugged me towards the staircase and then bounded up it. “I used to come up here to hide out when I was younger. It was my secret space. Like my personal clubhouse.”

It wasn’t much of a clubhouse. There were old posters, fading at the edges, a lumpy mattress on the floor, and not much else. Mia flopped onto the dusty mattress and sighed happily as her eyes drifted closed.

I lowered myself carefully onto the corner of the thing, partially afraid it was about to turn to dust beneath my ass.

Mia sat up and scooted over to me. The damn sundress had ridden up higher this time, twisting under her legs, and one of the straps had fallen from her shoulder, revealing a lacy blue bra strap. My eyes were riveted to it.

She didn’t notice. Her eyes had fluttered closed. Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. My cock was instantly rock hard as she threw her head back, pushing her creamy breasts out.

Presumably, she was lost in fond childhood memories. I was lost in thoughts of burying my dick between those beautiful breasts.

Even if I was going to need another shower later, I had to keep my hands to my fucking self. Both literally and figuratively.

Mia’s eyes snapped open suddenly, and she shifted, her face dangerously close to mine. She reached for my hand and gripped it between her soft palms. Her eyes pinned to mine, wide and honest.

“You know, I’ve never shared this place with anyone, but if you wanted you could join the club? Share the clubhouse with me for now?” Her voice was shaky, like she was unsure or waiting to be mocked.

It clearly meant a lot to her. “You would do that for me?”

“Yes,” she breathed, inching closer to me. “I think I would.”

Her lips parted with a shaky breath, and her hands played with the hem of her dress, drawing my attention to the fact that she was gently squeezing her legs together.

She wanted me as much as I wanted her. That was all it took to snap my last thread of self-control.

Fuck it, I thought. Fuck it all.

I reached up to wind my hands into her soft hair and crushed my lips to hers.