Page 90 of Roughing It

“No.”

“Hudson, you’re in no shape to drive.”

He laughs like I’ve cracked a fantastic joke but stops when he sees my hand is out, waiting.

“Blakely, this isn’t any worse than a hangnail.”

“You got shot. By me. The least I can do is drive us back.”

“If you drive like you shoot, I’ll take my chances behind the wheel.”

“Stop being so stubborn, and hand over the damn keys!”

My infuriating, gorgeous outdoorsman gives me a panty-melting smirk. “I sure do like your bossy side, you beautiful brat.”

Our mouths crash, mine frantic, his dominating. The kiss isus. Messy, combative, hot, raw. We don’t break apart until my lips tingle and my mind is a haze of lust.

It isn’t until we’re halfway home that I realize I’m in the passenger seat. This man has a powerful hold on me, and I have no idea what I’m going to do when our time together ends.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

hudson

I stand under the soothing stream of the shower, letting it ease the ache in my arm. It doesn’t do shit for the one in my gut, though. Kirk’s call and Blakely’s reluctance to talk about it carved out an uncomfortable hollow.

But when we do talk, what can I say?Blakely, even though you frustrate me beyond belief, I could see myself falling in love with you. It’s been less than a month, but why don’t you give up your life of luxury and stay here with me in my cabin in the woods? All those things we don’t know about each other? No biggie. We’ll figure it out.

Sounds like a great conversation. One sure to go my way.

I lather her delicate, floral shampoo in my hair. It’s worth her yelling at me to have her scent on my skin. Despite my prodding, she didn’t say much after we returned to the cabin, just showered and ate before curling up in the recliner near the fire. She’s upset, but I can’t tell if it’s with me or for me.

The whole arrow debacle was my fault. I swear, she short-circuits my brain. I’m making rookie mistakes left and right.Still, I’ll spend the rest of my life as the village idiot if it means she’ll stay.

Can I see a future with Blakely? Fuck yes, I can. The two of us sitting on the swing, looking out over our land every night for the next fifty years. Making love, fucking, teasing, sparring. Babies. Grandbabies.

My stomach churns. It’s a pipe dream. The doomsday clock started ticking the moment I met her, and it won’t stop until this thing we’re building is left in tatters. Despite knowing that, I don’t have it in me to regret a second of my time with her.

She came into my life like a goddamn wrecking ball—a sassy, bratty, beautiful force of nature. How the fuck do I go back to being alone, working day in, day out, living for everyone but myself?

Sighing, I turn off the water, grab the towel I set nearby, and open the shower curtain.

And holy shit. All my worries about what comes on day thirty-one fly from my mind. Because standing before me is my Spitfire, clad in a white lacy bra, stockings, and a matching pair of cheeky panties. My cock rises to half-mast at the sight.

With a saucy smile, she straightens the tiny paper nurse’s hat pinned to her hair. “Nurse Blakely reporting for duty.”

“Where’d you get that?” I ask, eyeing the red cross she’s drawn in Sharpie.

She clears her throat and taps her foot. “I said, Nurse Blakely reporting for duty, Mr. Brooks.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Mr. Brooks?”

“Yes, I’m your personal nurse during your stay here at Hidden Pines Hospital. The first thing we have to do is get you in bed.”

Blakely grabs my hand and tugs me forward. I follow her, curious how far she’s planning on taking her little role-playgame. She stops at the head of the bed and bends over, making a show of fluffing my pillows and pulling the covers back. Then, she unwraps the towel from my waist, pats the mattress, and gestures for me to lie down.

I do as she directs. “What next?”

“I have to bandage the wound.” She grabs a shiny pink bandaid from the bedside table and carefully places it on my arm. “How’s that feel, Mr. Brooks?”

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