Summary:
Forever Wilde #4
Hudson:
Don't ever accidentally propose to your girlfriend. In front of her family. Especially if her dad is your boss. Because when you make it clear you've made a mistake, he's likely to send you out of the country to get you as far away from his broken-hearted daughter as possible. It happened to me. Now I'm stuck in Ireland trying to redeem myself so I can get promoted and have the life I've planned for: successful career, loving wife and kids, a comfortable, financially-secure home life in Texas.
But all of that seems to evaporate the moment I walk into the historic pub and see the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Only, he's not a woman.
Charlie Murray is most definitely a man—the kind of man who causes me to take a second look for the first time in my life. And a third look, and fourth. I can't help but want to get to know him better... to get close to him, touch him, maybe even kiss him. But I'm straight. Or so I've always thought. Even if I'm not, how in the world could a feisty Irishman ever fit into the safe, predictable life I've always planned for?
Charlie:
Don't ever accidentally fall for the straight guy. Especially when he's trying to pry your family's business right out from under you. I should know. Because when Hudson Wilde walks into my family's pub and begins babbling so adorably, I can't help but fall just a little bit in love. But I'm looking for Forever Man, and the sexy American is certainly not him. He's so confused about what he wants, even choosing something from the dinner menu throws him into a fuddle. But those eyes... how can I resist?
So maybe I’ll give in. One steamy night before he heads home and I go back to life at the pub. We'll never see each other again.
Until, of course, his business deal sends me to Hobie, Texas, right into the middle of Hudson's steady life, more gay Wildes than can fit on a dance floor, and an ex-girlfriend who may or may not be content remaining an ex. But the more time I spend with Hudson, the more I think he might be my Forever Man after all. And I may be his. Is it possible we could both be so lucky?
Hudson's Luck is the fourth book in the Forever Wilde series but can be read on its own. Beware it includes 93k words of delicious man parts touching, grandfathers meddling, neighbors nosy-ing, dogs fornicating, cats being cats, horses... ah, crunching apples? or something... and one very flirty Stevie.
1
Hudson
Hudson’s Words To Live By:Don’t ever, ever give a woman a present in a tiny box unless it’s an engagement ring.And sure as hell don’t do it if the present is also a tiny metal hoop device that could be easily, horribly misconstrued as an engagement ring.Oh, and maybe also don’t give said present on your one-year dating anniversary.
I was doing that thing some people do where the coin flips through each of your fingers and back again, except instead of a coin, I was doing it with the small ring that had gotten me into this predicament in the first place. I’d named it the Wilde Ring, but it was technically a head constrictor. Which meant, of course, that my brothers had called it a cock ring.
It wasn’t a cock ring.
I was fifteen hours into a thirteen-hour trip from Dallas to Cork, Ireland, when I realized sleeping was just not something I was going to be lucky enough to experience on this flight. At least my company was big enough to spring for a first-class seat to accommodate my long legs. My legs went on for days, according to my girlfriend.
Correction. My ex-girlfriend.
The sigh that came out of me was enough to unsettle the older lady next to me. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been my first put-upon sigh. I was annoyed as hell at how I’d let myself be lured by the promise of an executive position. I should never have mixed business with pleasure and gone to work for her dad’s company.
I sighed again.
“Something on your mind, hot stuff?” the woman asked. “Might help to talk about it.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I said, shifting in my seat. Despite the nice wide space, I still couldn’t get comfortable. Every time I touched anything, I couldn’t help but think of all the bodies that had spent time in the same seat and touched the same surfaces. I wondered if my hand sanitizer was empty yet.
“You don’t seem like a regular flyer,” she began with narrowed eyes. “This your first time traveling overseas?”
“No, ma’am. My parents live in Singapore. I visited them there last year.”
“Oh, I could have sworn you were experiencing jitters like a newb.”
I gawped at her. Newb? She had to be ten thousand years old.
“Well, I guess it’s a little true. I tend to stay close to home. I’m not one for adventuring, if you want to know the truth,” I admitted. I didn’t tell her the trip to Singapore had been a disaster that had resulted in me swearing off travel for the rest of my life.
“Shame. Some of my fondest memories are from travel adventures,” she mused, snuggling under the navy-blue airline blanket and turning to face me. “You meet the most interesting characters.”
I laughed. “Ma’am, I’m the oldest of ten siblings. My life is full to overflowing with interesting characters already.”
She smiled at me. “So tell me what has your knickers in a twist if it’s not the travel.”
I took a deep breath before turning to face her and doing something very out of character—telling my personal story to a stranger.
“I dated this girl, Darci,” I began.
“You dated a little girl?” she gasped. Her reaction seemed a bit melodramatic.
“No. God no. She’s a grown woman,” I stammered.
The lady narrowed her eyes at me. “Then refer to her as such. Continue.”
An octogenarian teaching me about gender respect. Nice. I thought about escaping to the lavatory, but that would involve exposing myself to even more germs than I’d already come into contact with on this hellish trip. Even the thought had me putting the little metal ring in my lap and searching out the hand sanitizer in the seat pocket in front of me. I liberally doused my hands and, as expected, the bottle was nearly empty. Fortunately, I had a couple more stashed away in my checked bags. As I worked the gel into my skin, I began explaining the disastrous set of circumstances that had landed me in the seat next to the old bird.
“Ah… okay. So, I dated this grown woman named Darci.” I looked at her and saw a slight nod. “Who was a very nice… woman. Anyway, several months ago she suggested I spend some time learning how to brew craft beer with her father. Her family loves microbrews, so her hope was that it would be a good way for me to bond with them, I guess.”
“Mm, she was trying to get you in with Big Daddy. I see.”
“Right. So I learned all about it, and because I’m a bit of a tinkerer on the side, I thought what better way to impress her father than to improve upon the process? I invented this little doohickey that goes on the tap nozzle to control the amount of head, or foam, that comes out when you dispense a beer into a glass.”
“Woah, really? Impressive. Let me guess, Papa Bear felt threatened by the new cub’s ingenuity?” Her face looked eager for confirmation.
“Ah… no. That’s not exactly what happened,” I said, holding up the little metal piece. “You see, I made the mistake of presenting it to Darci as an anniversary gift… in a tiny little box. You know, like a ring box.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yep.”
Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was open in a little round “o” shape. “No kidding? Really? You didn’t. You’re pulling my leg.”
“No, ma’am,” I said. “I wish I was.”
Her laugh, when it came, was low-pitched and cackling. And absolutely did not end. I noticed two other little old ladies across the aisle craning their necks to see what was going on.
“Right,” I said in an attempt to quiet her down. “So it was a disaster. Her mother was screaming with excitement. Her sister had begun videotaping the scene. And her father was already going for the bottle of champagne.”
“What happened when she saw the doohickey?”
“Um, well… it looks like a ring so…” I felt the familiar heat of embarrassment crawl up my neck. “She put it on her finger and said yes.”
At this point, I realized my audience had grown. Instead of just my seatmate and the ladies across the aisle, I also now had two flight attendants and four additional first-class passengers craning their necks to hear. My humiliation was going to make for some rip-roaring good stories when everyone got where they were going later.
“Liar,” she laughed. “What happened next? Surely you went along with it and popped the question.”
I felt my eyes bug out. “Me? Marriage? That soon? What? No. Heck no. No. We’d only been going out a year. It wasn’t part of the plan yet.”
Ten pairs of eyes seemed to bore holes into me.
“So, what then? What did you say?” one of the flight attendants asked into the anxious hush.
“I…” I gulped and looked around, unsure if they deserved the actual truth. Oh, what the hell. “I stammered something like, ‘No, oh god no, you don’t understand. This is just so I can give your dad a little head.’”
At least someone could benefit from the damned experience. Because it certainly wasn’t me. The crowd around me went wild as I knew they would. I tried not to recall how my brothers had reacted.
“Go on, laugh it up,” I muttered. “Glad my humiliation is good for something.” I began twirling the ring in between my fingers to calm my jittery nerves as even more people began tuning into the humiliating conversation.
The young woman in the seat in front of me frowned from her spot facing backward toward me. “Och, sweetie. What happened after that?” Her Irish accent was lovely just like the rest of her, but it did absolutely nothing for me. I’d sworn off women and love.
Fuck ’em.
“It forced the big conversation about where the relationship was going. And that’s when I learned that saying, ‘It’s going fine,’ was not the right response.”
More giggles from the peanut gallery.
I sank lower in my seat.
The old lady next to me sounded disgusted. “So, what? Now you’re running away? Chickenshit?”
“No. Needless to say, she broke it off with me. And to make matters worse, before any of this happened, I’d let her father talk me into coming to work for him. Now I’m kind of stuck. He’s sending me to Ireland to assess a company for acquisition. He’s not happy with me.”
I’d taken the job with Darci’s father’s investment company after he’d implied I’d be quick to make vice president there. Getting to that level would help my career tremendously. I’d worked my ass off for over a decade at one of the largest mergers-and-acquisitions firms in Dallas, but when it had come time for me to be considered for the higher-level positions, they’d come with mandatory relocation to other parts of the country.
I was ambitious, but nothing was worth me leaving my family. With Ames International, I’d be able to have the VP title and stay in Dallas. But first I needed to prove to Bruce Ames I was damned good at my job despite being not as great at relationships.
“You let that man make you his bitch?” asked the tiny grandma from across the aisle.
I immediately went on the defensive. “I feel like I owe it to Darci. I don’t know… to prove I’m not a total loser. We finally worked things out as friends, and I care about her. I don’t want to let her or her family down. If only I’d been able to prove my commitment this way before the ring fiasco, maybe she wouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss me.”
I looked around, expecting nods of support and encouragement, but only found looks of sympathy.
“What?” I asked.
“Lovie,” the mother of the young lady in front of me said with a sigh. “The girl didn’t want your business commitment. She wanted romance. She wanted you to tell her she was the only one for you. She wanted you to tell her you couldn’t live without her. Sweep her off her feet and all that.”
I shook my head. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. She’s practical. I mean, she’s a nurse for god’s sake. So she’d have been way more interested in knowing I could provide financial security for her and a future family than some kind of big romantic gesture like flowers and a bunch of meaningless words.”
More tsks and head shakes.
“You don’t know her,” I said lamely. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. It’s over.”
The older lady next to me poked me in the side with a pointy finger. “Did it ever occur to you to bring her with you to Ireland?”
I thought about it. “No. Why would I? It’s a business trip. A quick in and out. Plus… she’s ah… moved on. I heard she’s already seeing someone else.” I’d been in denial about that last part, but it was true. I assumed she was doing it deliberately to prove she never cared about me much in the first place. It was working.
More head shakes all around.
My seatmate sighed like I’d disappointed her with my stupidity. “Forget it. One day you’ll meet someone you’ll want to show the world to. In the meantime, go ahead and kick ass on the work thingie and get a big promotion. That way, when the time comes, you’ll have enough money to live a big life with your true love.” She turned to say something to the ladies across the aisle, and I felt dismissed.
Everyone wandered away, seemingly disappointed in me, and all I could think was, Join the fucking club.
Because no one was more disappointed in me than I was.
After a few minutes of silence, my seatmate spoke up again. “Have you considered maybe you’re swimming in the wrong pond?”
I had no idea what she meant.
“Pardon?”
“Maybe you’d be more interested in sausage than tacos,” she tried explaining.
One of the ladies from across the aisle spoke up. “Can it, Tilly. Not every man likes the D.”
I almost choked on my tongue. My face ignited, and I sank lower in my seat.
“Shit,” the lady next to me muttered as she eyed me and my reaction carefully. She’d clearly mistaken my embarrassment at the turn in conversation for something else because she added, “He’s a homophobe. And now I’m stuck next to him for the rest of the flight. Switch seats with me, Irene.”
“I’m not a homophobe,” I argued, taking major offense. “Practically every guy in my family is gay.”
“Practically?”
“Except me. Obviously,” I clarified.
“Maybe that’s your problem. Try batting for the other team and see if that doesn’t solve it.”
Clearly the woman had some fucked-up notions of sexuality. Did I dare correct her?
“Sexuality doesn’t work like that, ma’am. You can’t just ‘choose’ to be gay if being straight isn’t working out for you,” I said. I could feel the tension in my jaw. It was a familiar sensation I felt whenever I found myself defending my siblings from ignorant assholes.
“You think I don’t know that?” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder to the two ladies across the aisle. “My two besties are lesbos, and I have about a million gay grandsons. I volunteer at an LGBTQ youth shelter in San Francisco and lost my brother thanks to my homophobic parents kicking him out years and years ago, so don’t you go lecturing me on gay, young man.”
She’d gathered up a full head of steam, and I could tell I was in for a wild ride.
“Sorry,” I began, but she cut me off.
“No. You listen to me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all these years of living, it’s that love is love. What the hell does it matter what bits and pieces someone has on their body? If you can open yourself up to love, you might be surprised at the package it comes in. Ever thought of that?” Her finger poked me in the chest, punctuating each word as she spoke.
“But,” I said, intending to explain that I had no hang-ups about being open to attractions from all kinds of people.
“But nothing. Maybe your destiny isn’t some sweet ‘daddy’s girl’. Maybe your destiny is a motorcycle leather daddy in Ohio.”
“God, I hope not,” I blurted. “Motorcycles are dangerous. I’m always lecturing my brothers about them. Darci calls them donor—”
“Fuck Darci,” the woman growled. “Clearly she’s not the one. Stop going for the expected safe bet, and try something new, something adventurous. You need some passion in your life. I’m not sure the sweetie-pie nurse lit your fire. When was the last time you took a vacation?”
“Ah… you mean besides visiting my parents in Singapore?”
“Yes, besides that.”
“Um… I went camping with a couple of my brothers about four years ago.”
“More than two hours away from home?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
“No, ma’am.”
“Have you ever gotten lost on purpose?”
“No, ma’am. Why would I?” Even the thought of not having a plan or schedule to go by each day made my neck feel hot and itchy.
“Have you ever said yes to something crazy? Something you would normally have said no to?”
“I’m not really the crazy type,” I explained. “I’m more of a planner.”
“Have you ever had sex with a stranger?” Her eyes were twinkling, and I noticed her two friends leering at me.
“Certainly not.”
Since when did I sound like such a square?
“Maybe it’s time for you to live a little,” she said gently.
I thought about how settled my life had been this past year. How, with a steady girlfriend, I’d felt… good. Not perfect, of course, but steady. Like my life was following the path it was meant to. The high-level job, the modern high-rise apartment, the lovely and kind woman on my arm. It had been…
Nice.
“But Darci—”
“Fuck Darci. Do you hear what I’m saying? Fuck the ex-girlfriend. Tell her to take a long walk off a short pier. You deserve someone a hell of a lot better than a chick whose idea of fun is setting her boyfriend up with Big Daddy for macho male man shit.”
I stared wide-eyed at the woman, both for her language and her forthright assessment of my situation. She didn’t know me at all, so why the hell did she think she could make such bold proclamations about what I needed?
“She’s a nice gir—woman. Encouraging me to get along with her family was just practical.”
Her face softened as she reached across the space between us to squeeze my arm. “Life’s too short to settle for ‘practical’ and ‘safe.’ Have a fling. Do something crazy. Get lost somewhere and fly by the seat of your pants for once. Let someone else be in charge, and stop being responsible for a little while.”
I stared at her some more. “What makes you think I’m so boring and predictable?” Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the tiny and now very empty bottle of hand sanitizer sticking out of the side pocket of my bag. I ignored it.
“You said you were the oldest of ten. That usually means you’re reliable, structured, cautious… am I right so far?”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
“And you’ve probably stayed fairly close to home in case someone needed you?”
I nodded, thinking of what it was like for the oldest of ten siblings when one of the parents was rarely around to help. I remembered nights of cooking boxed macaroni for everyone when I was seven, of helping clean up spills the babies made and doing the dishes when my mom was singing lullabies and bedtime stories to my younger siblings. I remembered changing disgusting diapers when I was as young as five and my brother Cal throwing up on me ten minutes before my high school graduation.
Even as recently as the previous year, I’d been called home to help my baby sister Sassy deal with a pregnancy scare. Had my mother not been half a world away, I was sure she would have been the one Sassy ran crying to. But the minute my parents had moved overseas, I’d become the default stand-in parent. I’d never known any different. And I loved my siblings with the ferocity of a thousand warriors. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
“Maybe it’s time for you to figure out who you are without all that other stuff.”
“What other stuff?” I asked, though deep down I knew what she meant. How many times had I wondered myself what things would be like if I’d been allowed to be more like my younger siblings… if I’d been allowed to just be a kid?
“Rules. Responsibilities. Expectations… Labels.”
I closed my eyes and considered her words. Was I unhappy with my life the way it was? No. I had almost everything I’d ever imagined. A solid career as a financial analyst just like my father, a loyal and loving family in Texas, and a pretty, sweet girlfriend… well, until recently anyway.
“No. I think you’re wrong,” I told her. “My life is fine the way it is.” I hated that my voice sounded just a little too insistent. Like maybe she wasn’t the one I was trying to convince.
She studied me for a moment before shrugging. “Meh. Maybe it’s not your time yet. But I’ll bet fifty bucks you could use some spice in your life, and a powerful missile in your silo wouldn’t go amiss if you know what I mean.”
The tiny frail woman across from us snorted and reached a bony hand across the aisle to fist-bump my new friend.
“What are the three of you doing in Ireland?” I asked in an effort to get the focus off me.
“A tiny bit of family genealogy with a whole lotta whiskey drinking,” my seatmate said before all three of them howled with laughter and then began talking about the bedroom talents of someone named Harold.
I kept pretty much to myself for the remainder of the flight and tried to think of whether or not I should try to rekindle things with Darci. Maybe if I just explained to her about the plan…
By the time the plane landed in Cork, I’d already started to formulate a strategy to talk to Darci about the plan. But as soon as I turned my phone on, a text from my brother came dinging through.
West: Sorry to be the one to confirm it, but it’s true Darci is with someone else. Couple days ago, I saw her sneak into the on-call room with one of the pharmacy reps. The next night Otto and Seth saw them holding hands at the Pinecone. Sorry, brother.
I was surprised to feel something akin to relief, but I wondered what that would mean for my future at work. Would things be even more awkward between Bruce Ames and me or would it actually help the situation? Was he relieved his baby girl had gotten over me so quickly? And what did that mean for my love life? I was something of a serial monogamist. I’d always had a girlfriend.
What would my life be like now without someone to take care of? I’d always dreamed of the wife, the white picket fence, the two point five children. Was I really going to have to start all over? The thought had me absently reaching for the hand sanitizer again before I realized what I was doing. I glanced at the woman next to me and listened as she and her traveling companions talked excitedly about whiskey and Irish men. Their unabashed enthusiasm made something loosen in my chest just a little and I turned to stare out the window as I considered my seat mate’s earlier words.
Maybe she and the other two old ladies were right. Maybe I did need to do something wild for once.
The Forever Wilde series is set in the same world as the Made Marian series but features a different family and locations. It is not necessary to read the Made Marian novels to enjoy the Forever Wilde novels.
After enjoying creative writing as a child, Lucy didn’t write her first novel until she was over 40 years old. Her debut novel, Borrowing Blue, was published in the autumn of 2016. Lucy has an English Literature degree from Vanderbilt University, but that doesn’t hold a candle to the years and years of staying up all night reading tantalizing novels on her own. She has three children, plays tennis, and hates folding laundry. While her husband is no shmoopy romance hero, he is very good at math, cooks a mean lasagne, has gorgeous eyes, looks hot in his business clothes, and makes her laugh every single day.
Lucy hopes you enjoy sexy heroes as much as she does. Happy reading!
Lucy hopes you enjoy sexy heroes as much as she does. Happy reading!
Hudson's Luck #4
Forever Wilde Series
Made Marian Series
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