Back to You: A Hudson Family Series- Book 1- Synclair and Reece (21 page)

Dalton

“So, this is your first trip to Ireland, is it?” The beautiful girl next to me, who’s name I don’t remember and really don’t care to ask.

Turning my attention from the small window I gave her my standard issue Hudson smile. Just as expected the cute blonde with the big blue eyes placed her arm on mine and scooted closer.

“Yep, I’m here to build a gazebo for my brother’s wedding, his fiance’s family lives in Dublin.” I don’t know why I offered that information.

“Oh Dalton, you must tell me their names, maybe I know them.” She pushed.

I tried to sigh inwardly, as outward would have been rude, I always try my best not to be rude to a lady.

“Annie, was it?” I asked as I drew small circles on the back of her hand.

Her head jerked up and for a minute, her blue eyes narrowed.

“Aggie, my name is Aggie.” She pouted.

Shit, that was my bad. I wasn’t generally bad with names but after an eighteen-hour flight with a crying baby seated behind me, I wasn’t on my A-game.

I put one hand on her slender neck and rubbed her ear lobe between my fingers, worked like a charm, she nestled her cheek into my hand. All was forgiven, God I loved women.

“Sorry, doll, I think the name is McDougall, they live in Dublin,” I told her as I continued to pet her like a cat.

She sat straight up and stared at me. I was about to ask her if she knew the McDougalls but she shook her head and started to laugh.

“Ach, this is brilliant. You brother is marrying Cami’s cousin then?” She asked seemingly pleased by the connection.

“So you know Camille?” I asked using her full name. I know everyone called her Cami, but I just couldn’t do it, anyone with as much spirit as Camille had, should never be abbreviated.

Hearing the Captain announce we were about to land I buckled my seatbelt and looked over at Aggie and waited. Something about her face changed, the features I once thought to be cute seemed distorted somehow as she sat there with a mean smirk on her face.

“Oh, I know Camille, let me tell you all about the frigid ice queen of Dublin.”

Cami

I got to the airport a few minutes before the American’s flight landed from Las Angeles. I took me time walking through the airport, stopping to check out some of the offerings from the shops that were there. Still, even with all my wandering about I still arrived at the baggage claim a wee bit early. Not that I’d know the American when I saw him, my parents had failed to send me with a description. It was all the same to me, besides if I failed to find him, then I guess he’d just have to board a plane back to the states.

It’s not that I had anything against Americans, in fact, I find them bang on funny, I just didn’t like me da taking charge of the building of gazebo when it was my bloody design in the first place. Sure, he was paying fer the wedding and such, but I wanted Synclair to be happy when got to Ireland and happy with me when she saw the grand wedding I’d planned for her.

“Cami?” Asked a familiar voice from my past. Or at least I had hoped it would stay in my past.

I raised me head from my thoughts and found meself staring at the arsehole, ex-boyfriend, Sean.

I stood up from the bench and stepped to the side prepared to bolt. Yeah, it was cowardly of me but seeing him standing there in his fine trenchcoat, and perfect hair made me sick to my stomach. So it was either rush off or puke all over his expensive shoes.

“Cami wait.” His hand grabbed my arm stopping my less than graceful escape.

“What do ya want Sean?” I demanded as I jerked my arm from his pansy ass grasp. Jesus, his hands were so soft he could be a hand lotion model.

His blue eyes narrowed, and he started to frown
. Yeah, well too bleedin’ bad,
I thought to meself. What right did he have to give me attitude after what he’d done?

“Well, I don’t have all bloody day Sean, spit out whatever you have to say and then go away.” I practically shouted, ignoring the looks from the people pushing all around us as they grabbed their bags from the belt.

“Still as lovely as an Irish wildflower, Cami.” He purred. The man actually purred at me. Did he think he was in one of his romantic films? Did that shite actually make women fall back with their legs in the air?

“Was that it? Was that your brilliant statement?” I asked getting more and more pissed off by the second. Any minute the American would be bustling by me and I could tell I was going to make a grand impression.

“Of course not, if you’d just stop being so bloody angry with me for a moment, I could apologize. Jesus, you’re just as stubborn and childish as you always were.” He ground out in an angry whisper so that no one could hear his words but me.

His remarks stung and for a moment, I wanted to physically rub my chest. Then I remembered who was spewing this crap, and my anger won out over my humiliation.

With all the hurt of five years coursing through my blood I swung out my fist and connected it with his unblemished cheek.

“That’s what I think of your proper apology Sean, my mother may have invited you to me cousin’s wedding but don’t think for a moment that I want you there,” I shouted rubbing my hand. Shite, it felt like it was on fire and I could already feel my knuckles swelling.

I had never seen Sean look so angry. He straightened and rubbed his red cheek. He starting stalking toward me, not sure what he was going to do, but deciding I should definitely do all I could to avoid finding out, I stepped back for every step he took toward me.

Just as I backed into a cold, steel wall, I saw him close in on me. I flinched when I saw his hands raised, then turned my head to ward off the blow to the face I knew was comin’.

When the blow never came I popped one eye open and looked about, what I saw had me opening the second eye straight quick and gawking.

Dalton

Mad didn’t even begin to cover the emotions I was feeling right now. Aggie had gleefully told me the story of how Sean had used Camille for financial support while he made a name for himself in the film business. If what Aggie said was true, Camille worked two jobs and went to school so he could devote himself full-time to his career. How does the little fucker reward her devotion, by fucking Aggie six ways from Sunday on Camille's dinner table?

What was mind boggling was how Aggie claimed that she had been Camille’s best friend, but couldn’t ignore the pull she felt toward that asshole Sean. So Camille had been fucked over by not only her mooching boyfriend but also by her slutty bestie. No wonder the woman was so uptight, with friends like those who needed enemies?

I tried to hide my anger when Aggie explained that Camille’s mother had invited Sean to the wedding, with the hopes they could patch things up. Aggie for her part had dumped Sean for another guy, but now that her fling was over she was coming to Dublin to get him back.

She went from a woman I was seriously contemplating taking into the Mile High Club to someone I couldn’t get away from fast enough.

How she kept up with me in those ‘fuck me’ heels she was wearing, I would never know, but she trailed me through the terminal all the way to baggage claim.

I scrubbed my hands down my face while I waited for my duffle bag to come closer. Aggie hadn’t noticed that I had stopped talking and why would she? She hadn’t shut up since the Captain had announced we were going to be landing soon.

Pulling the bag onto my shoulder, I moved away from the cackling witch and began to search for Camille. I had gotten a text from her father letting me know that she would be the one picking me up from the airport.

Oh, joy! The last time we had spent any time together, she had pushed me into the pond on the ranch. I had never understood why she was so immune to my charm, however, after hearing about Sean and Aggie, I knew why she was so closed off. The woman wasn’t frigid, far from it.

I had tasted her mouth just briefly in the moment before she had hauled off and pushed me into the water. Just before flipped out I had felt her relax, had felt her hands tighten on my shirt and her tongue was definitely not shy. Whatever Camille Patrick-McDougall was, she was definitely not frigid, possibly just uninspired.

As I walked through baggage claim, I finally spotted Camille, standing in front of a guy in a black trenchcoat. Her face was flushed red with anger, and she was standing with her fists clenched at her sides. I quickened my pace and was about ten feet from them when I saw her swing out and catch the much taller man with a decent right hook.

I stopped to laugh but thought the better of it when I saw the very pissed off, trench coat guy start backing her up menacingly
. Fits the description of her ex-asshole! Oh hell no, jackass, we do not hit women.

In two strides I was there, his hand was raised to strike, but I struck first. In two moves I had kicked the back of his knees causing him to fall to the ground kneeling and then I rounded on that asshat and right crossed him.

“Fuck off Sean,” I growled.

Camille opened one eye and then the other. When she saw me standing over her ex, she leaped from the wall like it was on fire.

“Dalton bloody Hudson, just what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

Smiling, I tucked a stray bit of hair back behind her ear; when I noticed how her breath hitched I realized she wasn’t as immune to me as she let on.
Okay, this I could work with.

“Looking for a pot of gold,” I told her flashing her one of my brilliant smiles.

All I got in return was a scowl and eye roll. Part of me hoped her eyes got stuck in the back of her head when she did that, not a big part but a part all the same.

“American eejit, this isn’t a cereal commercial, ya just knocked a lad flat, we need to get out of here before the Garda come.”

“Garda?” I had to ask.

“The police, the cops, the po-po.” She explained like I was a simpleton.

Shit, I had only been in Ireland twenty minutes, and I was already running from the law.

Sean groaned from the ground, and I had to laugh. I laughed harder when Aggie pushed past me to cradle asshat’s head in her lap. That was until I saw the look on Camille’s face. Her fair skin looked far too pale, even her usually rosy, lips were white.

“You little shite, how dare you lay yer hands on him, he has a photo shoot next week,” Aggie shouted at Camille.

“Let’s go Captain America,” Camille told me as she pushed me toward the exit.

I followed behind her as she wove through the crowded airport. She was beyond pissed, I could tell by the way she walked and the way her hands shook. Not that it was a bad view from behind. She had an ass that just begged to be touched, worshiped and bitten. Okay, so I’m an ass guy, maybe it’s a Hudson trait since my brother Reece can’t shut up about how much he loves to worship at the alter of Synclair’s lush behind.

The little wench pulled farther ahead of me, and I had to actually sprint to catch her.

“Dammit it Camille, stop.” I stopped her from opening the door to her tiny car. I mean seriously it looked like a damn clown car.

“Why didn’t they want me to know you were the contractor they were  hiring from the states Hudson?” She looked up at me with those mocha colored eyes and a face that was full of hurt.

I just wanted to wrap her in my arms. However, at that moment, the action would probably earn me one less testicle, so I kept my comforting notions to myself.

I sighed, she was right. They should have told her when Synclair had told me about the design for the gazebo that Camille had emailed her I had asked to see it. It was beautiful. It was a large rounded structure with lots of white lattice work and she even sketched all the flowers she planned to place on it for the wedding. As soon as I saw it, I wanted to be the one to build it. The only issue was that I had committed to the renovation of Synclair and Sara new restaurant, “Good Eats”.

Luckily I have an excellent crew and a foreman that assured me that he could handle the renovations for the next few months. That freed me up to travel out to Dublin, with a little over the month before the wedding, I figured I had plenty of time to get the gazebo built and spend some time with the mysterious woman who had dunked me in the pond after I kissed her some months back.

“Well, are ya just going to block my door all bleedin’ day Hudson or are ya going to let me get it?” Came an annoyed voice.

“I’m not going to apologize for hitting that asshole, Camille,” I told her throwing my duffle bag in the back seat climbing in the small passenger side that was on the left side of the car and not the right.
Damn, I forgot that Europeans drive on the other side of the road.

“Why do you insist on calling me Camille, everyone else calls me Cami?” She seemed calmed but still pissed.

“Because Camille is your name, and it’s a beautiful name to match it’s lovely owner,” I told her. There, a nice compliment, surely that would win me some points.

She snorted. “Och, go on now.”

Okay, tough room, no points. “Look, I’m here, and I’m going to build the gazebo you designed. It was beautiful by the way.” I told her meaning every word. I had loved the design, the fact that she was the one who had come up with it only made me love it more.

Not getting any more conversation out of her I settled back in my seat and watched the Dublin cityscape pass by. It was definitely different than Carson City. The buildings age and character to them, some of them looking to be as old as 12
th
century.

As we pulled out of the city, the landscape changed to green grass, trees and cows, lots of cows. Then the rain started.

Holy crap, it didn’t just rain here in Ireland, in deluged. I watched as Camille kept her wipers at full capacity and navigated the road as if she could drive it blind.

Tired after the long flight and not getting any conversation out of Camille, I started to doze off.

I was just about to go to sleep when I heard Camille curse, swerve and then hit the brakes on her car.

“What- what is it?” I asked sitting straight up. Did we have a flat? Was there some animal on the road?

“You called him Sean.” She spit out at me as she turned her smaller body toward mine. I could almost feel the agitation coming off her in waves.

“Good guess?” I smiled, hoping to be let off the hook.

The look on her face told me that wasn’t happening.

“Okay, yes, I knew his name.” There the best answer, honest yet not forthcoming with details.

“Just how did you manage to know the name of me ex-boyfriend when I have never mentioned him to ya?” She asked, like a dog with a bone she wasn’t letting this go.

“I was sitting next to a woman on the plane, she asked me if I knew anyone in Dublin and I told her your family’s name,” I said cringing when her face turned three shades of red.

“Aggie, you were seated next to that slapper Aggie?”

Okay, I have no idea what a slapper is, but I’m pretty sure that it was not a compliment to the women. I nodded to her and kept my hands in front of me. After all, this was Synclair’s cousin, she could have a bat or some other weapon readily available to kill me with.

Instead of attempting to maim me she turned back in her seat and rested both hands on the steering wheel. Her head slumped forward, and her headband slipped letting brown curly cascades cover her face.