Page 9 of One Boiling Summer (Texas Summer #15)

BACON AND BLUFFING

HUDSON

The unmistakable scent of sizzling bacon hit first, luring me out of sleep as if it were fish bait and me, the fish.

I cracked open one eye. Still in Lacey’s bedroom, and…

ouch. I stretched, my back and neck cracking after sleeping sprawled half-sideways in a wooden chair that had definitely not been designed for a big guy like me to sleep in.

I wiped my eyes and face. Judging by my wet chin, my drooling must have made quite the impression because she wasn’t here.

Her bed, the one I’d tucked her into way too late last night, was empty, and would have been a more comfortable option for both of us to sleep in. But how to convince her of that?

The quilt had slipped down one side, the pillows dented, and for a split second, I wondered if she’d slipped out to dance on another table. But then came the other scent—coffee, calling me to rise and face this woman.

I staggered into the kitchen, rubbing the crick in my neck, and wondered how the hell she was functioning like a human this morning after passing out.

There she was, standing at the stove in an oversized t-shirt.

Her legs were bare like she had nothing on underneath—a fact I’d like to confirm.

She’d piled her hair high on her head in that messy-perfect way some women pull off without even trying.

The entire picture woke up my cock in a very good way—except the shirt happened to be Carson’s old high school football shirt.

My jaw clenched. What the actual hell?Only when she turned and smiled at me, my entire world shifted. My heart stuttered at the effect this woman had on me and she didn’t even know it.

“He has risen,” she said, casting a huge grin like a spell on me, and wielding a spatula like it was a magic wand. “Coffee’s fresh. Bacon’s crispy. I’m hungry, and yes, I cooked enough for two. You’re welcome.”

I blinked at her, stepping cautiously into the room. “You’re awake.”

“Observant. They teach you that in fireman 101?” She winked with a sly glance sideways at me as she returned to tending the bacon

“I stand corrected. You’re awake and cheerful despite the fact you drank half the bar last night.”

“Three quarters.” She tossed me a goofy smile over her shoulder.

“And don’t worry, I already hydrated, downed an ibuprofen, and did some yoga.

Also, I never get hangovers when I drink.

” She poured coffee into two mugs, and then, before I could stop her, she dropped heavy cream and sugar into both—correction, make that caramel cream.

“Considering I’ve seen you drunk twice in a few days, I’m wondering if you make this a habit?” I asked, worried if I really knew her at all anymore.

“Turns out I’m only an alcoholic when I come back to town and I’m put under scrutiny for everything I do.”

“Good to hear. Although you might want to slow down or else they’ll add ‘town lush’ to the list of gossip.” I advised and accepted the coffee she handed me. One small sip and I hid my wince. Nothing against sugary sweet things, but I needed my strong, black mug of Joe.

She leaned back against the counter. “If you think you can stand my cooking, then let’s eat. Go sit and I’ll bring a plate over.”

“Thought I’d find you curled around the toilet this morning.” I sat at the breakfast nook table.

She laughed and set our plates down, taking a seat across from me. “Well, I suppose I owe you a round of thanks for just about everything from the moment I stepped foot in Poppy Valley. And, you know, saving me from death by poor decisions last night. What a gentleman, too, only removing my boots.”

“What kind of country gent do you think I am? I wouldn’t take advantage of a woman who was passed-out drunk. Nope. I prefer to wait until you’re sober and thinking clearly.”

“You wish.” She giggled, and it reached her eyes, crinkling at me, while taking her first bite of bacon. And I did wish… for many things with her.

I took another drink of coffee, tolerating the sweetness poisoning my tongue. “You gonna tell me what that was all about last night?”

Her smile faltered. “I couldn’t go anywhere yesterday without people whispering and judging. Saying I came to town to break up Carson and Emme. It’s exhausting, Hudson. I sat here and hid away until Jasmine showed up and convinced me to go out. I guess I needed to feel seen.”

“I saw you last night in those cutoff shorts,” I muttered.

“Oh yeah? Get a good eyeful of me dancing?”

“Maybe. You looked like a woman determined to find trouble.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “The fun kind?”

“Debatable.” I wiped my hands on the napkin. “If I hadn’t walked in when I did, the bikers might have been all too willing to take advantage of you.”

“Like I said before… thank you for saving me.” She added a strip of bacon to my plate, reducing her portion, like some kind of reward for being the hero. “Still, I regret nothing. Except for breaking Betsy’s seatbelt. Sorry about that.”

“You remembered? Is there anything else you remember?” I wiped my plate clean of the egg yolk with my last half of toast, hoping she might recall my monologue before she passed out. Only she shook her head.

“I cried right? I was pretty upset about these rumors going around. In fact, I almost left yesterday, back to New York. Except your mama stopped by to talk with me. Convinced me to stay. Even carried my suitcases back to my room.”

Thank God for Mama. I swallowed hard. “You always going to run when things get hard?”

“I don’t mean to. Just… things happen.”

“You need to stop running, Lace.”

“If you could find a way for people to keep their noses out of my business, I might.”

“Speaking of rumors… People probably recognize Blue Betsy out front. If people see me leaving your house this morning?—”

“They’ll jump to conclusions and think you’re doing the walk of shame,” she groaned and buried her face in her hands.

“Would that be such a bad thing? Besides, I’m not sure I’d feel one bit of shame after a night with you.”

“Oh, Hudson, this isn’t a time to be funny,” she scoffed.

I wasn’t trying to be.

“Although…” She suddenly got a crazy look in her eyes, chewing her cheek. “What if people did see you leaving, us walking hand in hand to your truck? Maybe they’d start talking about us instead of Carson and me. Shift the narrative, get the gossips going in a different direction.”

“Come again?” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“It makes total sense. You’re single, right?”

“Last time I checked.”

“I’m single. So…”

“What are you suggesting, exactly?” I shook my head, unsure of where this was headed.

“A distraction. You already said you’d help me fix up the house. We’re going to be spending some time together. People will naturally assume something is going on between us. Why not lean into it?”

“Lean in—?” I crossed my arms. She wanted to use me as bait. I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or... intrigued. “You want people to think we’re a couple.”

“Not forever. Just long enough to shut down the worst of the gossip. It’s a perfect plan.” She stood to clear the plates, stepping so close to me I could reach out if I wanted, run my hands up her thighs and strip that t-shirt off of her. “It wouldn’t be that hard to pretend you like me, would it?”

I met her gaze head-on, letting the tension simmer. She was playing a game. Problem was, I didn’t want to play. Not unless I could win. And the prize would be her.

“Here’s the thing, Lace,” I said slowly. “I don’t like pretending. Not about this. Not with you.”

Her hopeful smile dropped, and she rushed away with the dishes to the sink. Shit. I’d do just about anything for her, but this? Although I couldn’t stand to see her sulking, and the thought of her suitcases being at the ready to leave anytime didn’t sit well either.

I could have her now, pretending to be something we weren’t. Or not have her at all. Or keep hoping she came to her senses and saw what we could be together, eventually. Maybe both—pretend with her and then convince her I wasn’t pretending.

Yeah. That last one could be a good plan.

I sauntered up beside her, resting my palms on the counter, and sighed as she did the dishes. “I can’t believe I’m going to agree to this.”

She gasped and turned off the faucets, facing me with a grin. “You are? Oh, Hudson?—”

“But under one condition, for now, maybe more conditions later.”

“Name it. Anything.”

I faced her and tugged at the t-shirt at her waist. “You don’t wear anything Carson gave you or anything with his name on it while we’re together.”

She dropped her eyes, fingers fiddling with the hem of the shirt. “This old thing—er, guess that is a little weird for you. Do you think we should let Carson in on our plan?”

“He has Emme. Shouldn’t matter.” It probably would matter and require a lengthy discussion with him.

“But isn’t there some kind of bro code between you seven about not dating each other’s exes?”

She’s right. There had been, thanks to the twins. When Lawson and Dawson were in school, they’d fought over the same girl. We’d all established a rule right then about it.

“I’ll have a talk with him and let him know about you and me.” When she started to protest, I put my hands up. “He’ll be fine. Leave it to me.”

“If you’re sure, then this could work. Either that or it’ll cause more trouble.” She snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Like I said earlier, you are trouble, woman.”

She stared at me for a moment like I saw the real Lacey. Then she reached up and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“And you like it. I’ll bet you lived a totally boring life before I came back to town.” She hummed to herself as she finished up washing the dishes and I dried.

I kept the smile to myself about what a spark she lit in my life. I didn’t know where this was headed, but I wasn’t about to waste my shot to get to her.

“Well, I need to return to the station and close out my shift. I’ll be back to tackle that porch painting with you before lunch, though. Ready to walk me out, head held high, hand in hand, and smile at anyone looking?”

“Yep. Give me one minute.” She rushed down the hall to her room, then exited a moment later wearing a yellow sundress. My pulse skyrocketed. The bright fabric fell just to her knees and held on only by thin spaghetti straps on her shoulders. Every inch of her creamy skin, for now, belonged to me.

She was the sun, born of light, and I was the moon. I’d follow her, set and rise on her. And soon make her mine.

“Nice dress,” I breathed, and held out my hand for her.

“I figured something bright would catch attention. Have to make this look good.” She shrugged it off like it was nothing. But that dress meant something.

Hand in hand, together we took the plunge and stepped outside. She gave quite a performance, practically skipping beside me, waving hello to a neighbor out jogging. She also yelled, “Hey there!” to another. And yet another dragged out their trashcan to the curb and waved back at us.

Little did she know I had my own performance to give. One I’d only been fantasizing about until now.

“Beautiful day,” she remarked at the truck, lifting her chin to the sky, soaking in the sun on her face. I reached up and pressed a lock of hair behind her ear. My hand cupped her neck, my thumb landing on her racing pulse. Breathlessly, she said, “Wow, you’re really selling this.”

“Not a hard sell when the only beautiful thing I see is you,” I growled, and leaned in. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away when my lips landed on hers. Soft. Sensual.

And I was just warming up.

I deepened it a little. Enough for her lips to part on a sigh and for mine to press firmer. No rush. No pressure.

Her hand curled around my wrist, steadying herself. Her tongue tasted like sunshine and sweetened coffee and something I’d been craving for far too long.

When I finally pulled back, her lashes fluttered open, and she blinked at me, lips slightly parted, pink and breathless.

“Well,” she said, voice husky, cheeks flushed, “if we’re trying to convince the town, that was a solid start.”

I cocked a brow. “Solid?”

“Seven out of ten. Maybe nine.”

She laughed it off, escaping from my arms and running back up to the porch.

“Don’t worry,” I yelled, smiling at the neighbor across the street, who was definitely watching. “I’ve got more where that came from.”

She waved. “Didn’t know you were so cocky, Hudson.”

“You do now.”

To the town, we probably looked like two flirty idiots playing a summer game.

But to me?

That kiss wasn’t a performance.

And I had no intention of pretending.