Reality twisted and the nightmare seized him, tunneling through his subconscious with a silent domination. Every moment became impossible, a sense of “this can’t be happening.” Yet the convenience store became more distinct, the pungent smell of copper infiltrating his nose. The slick sensation of being wet made his skin itch as blood soaked his jeans, and the screams that peeled out of his mother’s mouth morphed into the screeching sirens that ricocheted inside his eardrums.
The dream tantalized him with the false idea that he could roll back the clock sixty seconds earlier. When Hudson tried to hit rewind, the nightmare took control and made him relive the tragedy as it flickered through his psyche. But none of it was enough to snap him out of the replay.
Blood was everywhere, glistening and crimson under the fluorescent lights that hung low on the ceiling. The man who lay bleeding on the cheap linoleum with a gaping wound to the chest wasn’t a stranger to him, he was the man he looked up to. Now his blue stare, slowly losing its color, penetrated Hudson and paralyzed him with a death grip on his father’s soaked shirt. He willed him to say something, to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. But all Hudson heard were gurgling sounds from his father, and the hard burst of his own breath as he stared down at the eyes that were losing their focus.
More strained breaths and gurgling.
Between one blink and the next, he was being torn away from his father. He looked back at him. The skin that had once been golden tan was now going gray.
A scream came out of his mother’s mouth at the same time one was ripped from his.
Hudson jackknifed off the bed. With his breath coming sharp and fast out of his mouth, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and flipped on the bedside lamp. He closed his eyes and tried to reboot, but the bright bouquet of red stained the backs of his lids.
“Fuck,” he muttered. It was the same horror show the past four nights in a row. The repeats were inevitable since Nick decided to open the door with C-4 and rattle the skeletons he’d locked up in the darkest place of his mind. Now his subconscious was burping that shit up like a bad trip through the Haunted Mansion.
Taking shallow breaths and doing his best to think of absolutely fucking nothing, he pushed unsteadily to his feet and staggered to the bathroom. Once inside the room he didn’t bother with the lights; the moon was providing enough as it filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. When you sat at the top of the world there wasn’t a threat of being caught naked, but like he gave a flying fuck.
Hudson reached into the shower, cranked the faucets, and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it without stripping off his first layer of skin. He braced his palms against the marble and leaned into the spray as he let the water wash over him. The hot water was a blessing, rinsing away the wake of the nightmare, slowly but not entirely.
Hanging his head he felt the hot rush sluice over the back of his skull, split off his shoulders, and cascade down his chest and back. As he stood there, he thought of the only thing that seemed to ground him to the present.
Allie.
The way she felt under him when he was buried deep inside her. The sight of her body arching into his as he drove them both toward the edge. The sound of her moans in his ear as they climaxed together.
And instantly he was hard.
Rock hard.
Hudson shut his eyes and gripped himself with both hands.
Allie was on her knees. “I want your cock.”
“Where do you want it? Show me.”
She leaned forward and parted her lips over his glistening tip. Her mouth was hot and wet.
Hudson grew even harder as he forgot where he was and that it was his hand grasping his cock, which was a poor fucking substitute for having her lips wrapped around his shaft. Nothing compared to what it felt like to slide himself in and out of her beautiful mouth, to see her look up at him with a heat that mirrored his own.
He shifted his legs apart, his breath easing in and out of his heavy chest as she took him all the way into her mouth. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat and the pleasure shot up and down his spine.
“Just like that,” he groaned as he fisted a hand into her hair. “Deeper.”
She got into it, relaxing her throat to take more of him then sucking hard as he pulled out. Hudson thrust forward and slipped even deeper. “I love fucking your mouth . . .”
Allie wrapped her arms around his thighs and squeezed his ass as he pumped into her mouth. He looked down and the sight nearly made him come. Fuck him, he was ready, but he wanted to feel her for as long as he could.
She sucked harder and grazed her teeth up the length of his cock
Sweet fucking hell. His balls tightened up as hard as a fist. The sensation alone was almost too much to handle, but how she worshiped him kicked him up into another dimension.
Finding a rhythm, he watched his thick head move in and out of her mouth. The weeks he’d spent without her had nearly killed him. Everything in his life was flipped upside down, yet with her in it, fell into perfect place. Without her his heart beat only to serve one need, to pump blood and oxygen through his body.
The tip of her tongue traced the pulsing vein along the underside of his cock. His whole body felt the sensation. “Jesus, God in Heaven.” He slammed a palm against the tile, the hunger punching through any shred of civility he had left and running down into a base need. Just then the orgasm threatened the head of his cock. “Damn, Allie,” Hudson hissed. His grip tightened in her hair. “Don’t stop. I’m going to come in your mouth and you’re going to swallow it all.”
A curse exploded out of his mouth, his body bowing forward and his head listing back as his release rocketed out of him and into his hand.
***
After Hudson dressed in his version of “Black Friday”—black pants and a black cashmere V-neck with a gray tee underneath—he hit the button on the elevator to shoot him straight down to the garage. The moment he stepped in, a muffled ring came from his pocket. He yanked the phone out, but before he could give his usual greeting, a cheerful voice fired off on the other end.
“Happy Thanksgiving, bro.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.” Hudson wasn’t feeling so happy despite his little fantasy session, but for Nick’s sake he was going to sing and dance. “Giving you a feast in that place, or what?” He strode out of the elevator toward his fleet of cars. What he wouldn’t give to have his bike right now, he thought.
“Yeah.” Nick let out a sarcastic laugh. “Mashed potatoes, powdered gravy, and some box shit stuffing. Nothing like Mom used to make.”
Hudson frowned as a memory shot through his mind. Nick had reached way back for that little nugget. Their mom had been gone for years, but it had been even longer since she’d made them a home cooked meal, let alone a holiday spread. “That was a long time ago, Nicky.”
“I know.” Nick’s voice softened. “I miss her, too, Dad.”
Hudson slid into the waiting limo. “To the office.” Max nodded and shut the car door.
“On Thanksgiving?” Nick said. “You work too fucking much.”
“Business doesn’t stop for holidays.” Hudson really didn’t want to get into the subject of his parents right now, or how many hours he clocked, for that matter, so he made a move to flip the convo on its ass. “What else they got going on for you?”
“Movies and shit. And a group session later to talk about how the holidays make us
feel
.” Nick emphasized the last word but Hudson knew it was for his benefit. Nick was drinking the rehab Kool-Aid at this point, but Hudson couldn’t have cared less. He’d spoon feed the shit to his little brother himself if needed.
“Nicky . . .” His voice trailed off as Max took a turn onto Michigan Avenue at the same time Allie stepped out of a taxi. In his ear he could hear Nick going on about stale food and adolescent games of charades, but Hudson’s focus was on nothing but her. As they idled at the red light, he watched her pull her jacket closed before making her way across the icy sidewalk and into a local coffee shop. He imagined her delivering a complicated order to the barista and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Hey, bro, gotta jet, apparently an expert bottle cap flicker is needed.” Hudson heard the crack of knuckles through the receiver.
“That’s the best use of your time?”
“Nah, dude, just kidding. Gotta have some fun.” Nick laughed. “Catch ya later?”
“Yeah, Nicky. Proud of you. I’ll see you Sunday.” Hudson pressed the intercom. “Pull over, Max.” He slid forward on the leather bench as the car pulled to the curb and slowed. But when it came to a stop, he paused with his fingers curled around the door handle. Allie had made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him, no matter how hard he pursued her, and he’d promised to leave her alone if she heard him out. She’d held up her end, it was only fair he did the same. So despite how much he wanted her in his life, Hudson dropped his hand and ordered Max to continue on to Chase Industries.
Allie pushed through the revolving doors of the Grand Lux Café and took the escalator to the second floor. With its Venetian-inspired décor and soaring ceilings, the Michigan Avenue eatery offered a relaxing atmosphere along with a menu that required nothing short of a binder to hold all the options. But Allie knew her best friend well. The real draw for Harper wasn’t the opulent theme or the entrees that ranged from Malaysian to Caribbean. It was the extensive variety of specialty drinks and the dessert case that ran the length of the lobby that kept the restaurant in Harper’s “Top Ten.”
Stepping off the escalator, Allie found herself directly in front of the glass display of decadence. Her mouth watered at the sight of the molten lava cake and crème brûlée. No way, she thought. The liquid calories she planned to consume would be bad enough. Her thighs certainly didn’t need a few beignets tossed into the mix. With the hours she’d been putting in at Ingram, gym time had grown scarce. And while she was comfortable with her curves, her recent dependence on comfort foods had to stop.
“One for dinner?” the hostess asked.
One for dinner
. Were there three more depressing words in the English language? Maybe when followed by “alone at the office.” And although lately that seemed to be the case most nights for Allie, at least on this Thursday night it wasn’t.
“No, actually, I’m meeting someone.” The words had no sooner left her mouth when she caught sight of Harper, her head thrown back midlaugh. “And looks like I just found her.”
Allie made her way to the bar where Harper sat perched on a stool. She wore a purple sweater with a white Peter Pan collar and cuffs, perfectly paired with a whimsical black-and-white polka-dot skirt. The black patent leather Mary Jane pumps seemed almost understated, but they nicely offset the black tights inscribed with literary quotes that ran the length of her leg. Allie thought of the clothing she wore beneath her coat: a conservative black pencil skirt and a white wrap-front blouse. The only things daring about her outfit were the black garter and lace-top stockings hidden underneath. For the life of her, she had no idea why she wore them. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see them. But they’d caught her eye in the drawer when she’d been getting dressed that morning and thoughts of Hudson, teasing her about wearing them on the back of his bike, made her all at once so angry and aroused that she’d put them on in some sort of defiant fit that seemed rather silly now.
As she grew closer, she heard Harper chatting away in an animated voice. “And
that
is why you will never catch me anywhere near the circus. Ever.” She gave an exaggerated shudder that made her red curls sway from side to side.
“Hey there,” Allie said. “Sorry if you were waiting long.”
“Not at all. And it gave me time to get to know Vince here,” she said, lifting her glass to the bartender and smiling. “He makes a killer pear martini.” A moment later the pager on the bar top began to vibrate and flash red. “Looks like our table is ready.”
The hostess led them through the restaurant, crowded not only with the usual after work customers, but with holiday shoppers laden with bags from nearly every store imaginable, to a booth overlooking Michigan Avenue. The bird’s-eye view of the twinkling lights covering the trees lining the Magnificent Mile only added to the festive atmosphere. Below them the rest of the city was celebrating the holiday season: a car inching through the traffic with an evergreen tree strapped to its roof, a Santa ringing his bell as good Samaritans dropped coins into his kettle, and children staring with wide eyes at the elaborate window displays. Christmas in Chicago was a sight to behold.
Too bad Allie felt like Ebenezer Scrooge.
“Earth to Allie.”
“Sorry.” She reached for her glass of water and took a long sip.
“No problem.” The sympathetic look in Harper’s eyes quickly faded to one of mischief. “But dessert is on you. And I’m not sharing this time, so order your own beignets,” she added with a laugh.
“Deal. Now tell me about Vince.”
Harper shrugged. “Eh.”
Allie’s eyes grew wide. “Eh? Since when do cute bartenders who make killer pear martinis get an ‘eh?’”
“Since I discovered how much med students know about . . . anatomy.”
Allie gaped at her friend, whose cheeks were suddenly as red as her hair. “Harper Hayes, are you blushing?”
“Let’s just say you’re a few episodes behind in this particular soap opera.”
“Sounds like it. So start talking.”
But instead of rattling off the intimate details of her love life, Harper let out a heavy sigh. “I knew this would happen.”
“Knew what would happen?”
“That it would be this way when we weren’t working together.” She flipped open her menu and began turning the pages. Allie knew from experience that she was headed straight to the appetizer section. “I hate having to schedule time to talk to my best friend. I feel like I talk to your assistant more than you.”
“Yeah, about that,” Allie teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Stop distracting him.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Harper’s lips but she feigned innocence as she perused the menu. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please,” Allie said with a snort. “His desk is right outside my door. I hear him chatting away before he puts your calls through.”
Harper looked up from the menu, her green eyes wide with sincerity. “All joking aside, I hate having to schedule time to see my best friend.”
Allie reached across the table and squeezed Harper’s hand. “I know. And I’m sorry. This transition has been really tough. Hopefully things will settle down a bit after the first of the year.”
“It’s fine.” She gave her a warm smile, then turned her attention back to the menu. “But if you’re going to try to take this further than holding my hand, you better be planning to pay for dinner and not just dessert.”
Allie laughed. “Fair enough. So what are you thinking? Empanadas, volcano shrimp, or do we go for broke with the pot roast cheese fries?” After rattling off the choices, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse to add an hour at the gym to her Friday morning calendar.
“I’m thinking I better stick with the lettuce wraps.”
Allie glanced up from the phone screen, her mouth hanging open. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
“She’s right here. She just ate enough sweet potato casserole last week to bust the zipper on her stress jeans.”
While she certainly sympathized, Allie couldn’t help but smile at the description. Harper had clothes designated for moods. There were stress jeans, meltdown surgical scrubs, and for really extreme scenarios, the I’m-going-to-join-a-convent elastic waist sweatpants.
“How was your trip home, aside from the binging?”
“Good. My sister was there with her new baby, so the picture taking and ‘goo-goo ga-ga’ stuff was a bit over the top. But my Uncle Eddie kept his pants on during the football games, so all in all I’d say it was a success. Still wish you would have come with me.”
“The last thing your mom needed was my mopey face at her table,” she said, only half joking. While Allie had appreciated Harper’s offer to spend the holidays with her family in St. Louis, she didn’t think she could have handled being around an extended happy family. Not only because she’d never spend another holiday with her own family, but because she knew with all certainty that being with Harper’s family would cause her to mourn the loss of the holidays she never had. Growing up Allie’s mom had made sure each and every celebration was picture-perfect, but not in the Norman Rockwell kind of way. More in the “stand still, you’ll wrinkle your dress” kind of way. A firsthand look at a normal holiday, even one with an uncle watching football in his underwear, would have been just too hard to take. “Besides, it all worked out for the best. I had a very productive weekend.”
“Productive? That’s not how people usually describe our nation’s day of gluttony.” Harper closed the menu and set it down on the table. “Please don’t tell me you spent the entire weekend working in your office alone?”
“Okay, I won’t tell you.”
Harper raised a brow but said nothing. It was unnerving.
“Fine. Yes, I worked all weekend.” Allie held up her hand in an attempt to stop the inevitable lecture. “But not always at the office and not always alone. Colin came in on Saturday and Sunday.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Oh, I bet he loved that.”
“He was well paid and well fed, so I don’t think he had too many complaints.”
“So when do I get to meet the Sexy Secretary?”
Again with the nicknames
. It was bad enough when Harper came up with creative monikers for the men in Allie’s life, but it was hardly appropriate for her employees. “First of all, he’s my executive assistant. Second, how do you know he’s sexy? And third, that’s sexual harassment.”
“First, semantics. Second, Facebook. And third, its only harassment if he works for me, which he does not. He would, however, be lots of fun to go drinking with. Oh, and dancing. I bet young Colin has some moves.”
The waitress arrived to take their orders and promised to return with a basket of bread, which Harper politely declined.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the stress jeans, were you?”
“It’s a DEFCON Five situation.” Harper leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “So what do you say?”
“About what?”
“You, me, and the Sexy . . .” She stopped herself. “You, me, and Colin. Drinks and dancing on Saturday?”
“This Saturday? As in two days from now?”
“Yep.”
Allie shook her head. “Won’t work. He’s going out of town this weekend. Sort of the trade-off for working over Thanksgiving.”
Harper shot a hopeful look across the table. “So maybe just the two of us can hang out, then?”
“I’m not sure. I have a lot of work to wrap up before everyone scatters for the holidays. And with Colin gone all weekend, it’s going to be tough.”
“Oh c’mon, I heard on the radio this morning that they’re doing the
Nutcracker
at the Joffrey Ballet, even have the Chicago Philharmonic playing.”
“Stop.”
“What?”
The waitress set the lettuce wraps on the table between them, along with two glasses of Pinot Grigio. Allie waited until they were alone before busting Harper’s plan wide open. “I know what you’re doing.”
“I’m simply trying to make plans to go to the ballet,” Harper said, stuffing a roll of the leafy greens in her mouth.
“You have zero interest in the ballet. Or classical music, for that matter.”
Harper washed the wrap down with what was left of her martini. “Men in tights, what’s not to love?”
“And if it were a midnight showing of a Cary Elwes movie at the Music Box, I might believe you.”
“Maybe I just want to broaden my horizons.”
“Harper, I know what Saturday is.” Allie helped herself to one of the cool leaves and filled it with spicy chicken. “And while I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I don’t need a babysitter this weekend.”
“It would have been your wedding day.”
“Honestly, I’m not losing sleep over the fact that I won’t be Marquise Laurent come Saturday.”
“Well, I know that much,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “And thank God, because if I think the current sitch is bad, I would have
never
seen you after Julian whisked you off to his castle in France.” Her shoulders sagged. “But so much is different than you expected it to be this weekend, I just thought maybe . . .”
Allie set her lettuce wrap back on the plate and looked her friend in the eye. “There’s a lot about my life I wish I could change, but ending my engagement to Julian isn’t one of them.”
A quiet moment passed between them before Harper spoke. “I saw him.”
She didn’t have to say anything else, because Allie knew without asking exactly who she was referring to. And as much as she wanted to grill Harper for every little detail from what he said to the tie he wore, she resisted. Instead she turned her attention back to the appetizers, taking a bite while attempting to maintain an air of complete indifference. “These are pretty good,” she said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, “for low carb.”
“I stopped at Rosebud to get takeout one night and he was there. Alone.”
“I’m sure he was meeting someone for dinner.” The lettuce wrap suddenly felt like a rock in the pit of her stomach as the image of Sophia’s perfect face popped into her mind.
“Nope. He already had his food, although he hadn’t eaten very much. Looked to me like he was just sipping a glass of Cab and reminiscing.”
Clearly Harper had no intention of letting the subject drop. And against her better judgment, Allie took the bait. “Reminiscing? You got that from a man drinking wine in an Italian restaurant?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention he was sitting at the same table where you two had your never-ending ‘just talking about the foundation’ coffee?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Well he was. And he looked like shit,” she added matter-of-factly.
“The additional hours are probably taking their toll.” Allie had no idea how Hudson was managing the demands of a conglomerate like Chase Industries while at the same time maintaining a near-constant presence at Ingram. No wonder Harper thought he looked like shit—the man had to be operating on very little sleep.
“I don’t mean he looked like he could use a nap,” she said as if reading Allie’s mind. “I mean he looked like a guy whose heart was broken.”
Allie let out a harsh laugh. “Now I know you’re full of shit.”
“Why?”
“You make it sound like he was the male equivalent of being curled up in sweatpants nursing a pint of ice cream. There is no way Hudson Chase was anything but composed. I’d bet my life on it.”
“Oh he was, at least on the surface. Christ, even on his worst day that man looks perfect. I mean seriously, how in the world are his eyes that blue? And that hair, I swear, one of these days I’m going to run my fingers through it and I don’t care who’s watching. But when he asked about you—”
“You spoke to him?”
Harper nodded. “Just the usual small talk. When we’ll get the first snow, how was your Thanksgiving, that sort of thing. Oh, and PS: he worked through the holiday, too, so a fine pair you make.”