Page 35 of Engaging with Her Enemy

“I have a pocket knife and would gladly slash your tire to have morning sex with you.” Her hands ran along his back, skimming over his scars and pulling him until he fell entirely on top of her. She wiggled out from under the covers and then out from the shirt she wore.

“Jesus, Becky.” He ran his hands over her skin. “How am I supposed to leave with you naked? You don’t play fair.”

“And I will never play fair to get what I want.” He smelled like the cologne she now loved. Not a heavy scent but enough that it made her want to pull him closer. “And right now, I want you.” She bowed her back, pressing her body to his and stretching her arms over her head. “Please?”

With a quick glimpse at the clock, the lines in his face smoothed. “Five minutes.”

“Ten. I'll call Cameron and Dewey to make sure you don't get a speeding ticket.” They both owed her for something, she was sure.

He laughed against her bare shoulder before kissing his way down her body. “What are you going to tell them?”

She sighed as he sat up and took his shirt off. “The truth, but I doubt they'd want the details.”

* * *

Cameron did havea terrible sense of humor. The few times that Becky had commented on Cameron being a jerk, Hudson had restrained himself not to defend the man. Now, staring at the “warning” ticket that sat on his desk inside his new modular office, he had to agree with her. Cameron had tailed him all the way to the construction site, only eight minutes late, and then wrote him the ticket to the entertainment of all his employees.

With Cameron grinning the entire time.

He'd seemed far more amused than necessary about the night spent with Becky. Didn't ask any questions but did write on the warning ticket that the driver looked to be inan exceptionally good mood and relaxed, but that it wasn't an excuse to drive eight-five in a fifty-five-work zone.

Jerk.

“Boss, we have a small situation.” John's worried expression pulled Hudson to his feet instantly. The laid-back man never seemed to care even if the whole project was destroyed.

“What?” Hudson followed John outside, his good mood still intact. Nothing could destroy it after Becky. It was like a compression across his chest had been released. He had Becky. Now he just had to find a way to keep her.

Barry sat parked in his truck.

“Finally sobered up?” He knew it was tacky to joke with the man, but it was hard not to after the crap he pulled at Rhonda’s. It was either joke or finally give way to the sharp anger he held for the man. Hudson wasn’t aggressive. It wasn’t in his DNA like some of the other men he’d grown up around or met while deployed.Exceptwhen it came to Becky. And Barry had threatened and talked to her in a way that Hudson hated. Just the memory of it made the muscles across his shoulders tighten in response.

“Asshole,” Barry shouted. “You'll pay for putting me through all this.”

Hudson raised his eyebrows but didn't respond. Until Barry pulled the gun.

That changed everything.

“Call the police,” Hudson said to John. John took off at a run. Fastest he's ever seen the old man move. Hudson’s focus stayed locked on the gun. “Barry, it's not worth it. I didn't make you set fire to the office.”

“It was your fault.”

“I didn't make you act like a fool with Becky outside the diner.” Hudson shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn't have a gun. Hadn't owned one since he returned from war. Part of his release agreement. The doctors, worried about his mental state those first couple years, had him sign a letter of intent against ownership of weapons. He wouldn't shoot Barry, anyway.

Not that he had any intention of standing by and getting shot. He didn’t survive his deployment and an IED explosion to have some dipshit like Barry take him out. God, what if he went out after Becky next?

Hudson breathed through his nose, letting it out slowly and calming his heartrate.

“This won't look good if the police arrive and you still have that pointed my direction.”

“I don't care. I have debts I need to pay. A girlfriend back home, I need to support.” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “I need the money you owed me!”

Hudson kept his voice even. “I'll make sure you get paid for the work you've done.”

“I’m not waiting. I know you got that big checkbook in there.” Barry stepped out of his truck, the gun still in his hand, although shaking in a way that made Hudson feel the first real bite of nerves. He'd trained with the military on self-defense tactics, but he worried more for the guys standing around who were possibly in the line of fire.

“I want more than that,” Barry continued, his voice quivering. “I want a check for thirty-thousand.”

“Thirty-thousand? I don't even know if the construction account has that much in it at one time.”

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