Page 6 of Too Broken to Love

The screen door creaked open. A shadow too wide to be Sam’s spilled over the threshold. Her pulse punched against her skin as she reached for the knife and tensed into a defensive stance.

A tall man in cargo shorts and a gray T-shirt stepped inside. The intruder didn’t flinch. Instead, the man’s lips—the same ones that stared at her from his photo on the fridge—tilted up in a smirk.

She blinked. “You’re Hudson. You scared the crap out of me.”

“And you surprised the hell out of me with that knife.” His smirk blossomed into a full-blown smile. “The way you hold it like you know how to use it is adorable.”

Real honey-colored eyes, not the two-dimensional ones in his photo, assessed her from head to toe. “I do know how to use it.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Glad you didn’t argue the adorable part.”

Irritation rose as she placed the knife on the counter. “Knowing how to defend myself has nothing to do with being adorable.”

“I didn’t think so either up until today.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m sorry I scared you. You didn’t answer when I knocked out front. Guess you didn’t hear me over the music.” His lips pressed into a line. “Mind telling me why you were talking about my grandfather’s big ass bass?”

The innuendo in his tone triggered a flinch. Did he think she and Sam⁠—?

The implication shot heat up her neck. “I was talking about the striped bass Sam caught today.” She dipped her thumbs into the pockets of her jean shorts. “I’m Tessa.”

He straightened from the doorframe. A deep moan grated from his throat as he pressed his hand to his torso.

“Are you okay?” She stepped toward him. This close, the color of his eyes echoed the rich, tawny gold of the aged bourbon Sam loved. “Did you bruise your ribs?”

“Broke ‘em.” He pulled in a breath. “I’m fine.”

“Broken ribs are a bitch. Does Sam know you’re in town? He’ll be so surprised to see you.”

Hudson stepped further into the room and gripped the back of a chair. “Not as surprised as I am.”

“I’m guessing Sam didn’t mention me to you?”

Sam also hadn’t mentioned that his grandson had added about twenty pounds of muscle or let his military cut grow into thick waves. Even the midnight hue of his dark brown hair appeared richer. His lips were fuller, the sexy cleft in his chin deeper, and the sharp angles of his face more regal.

Damn. She didn’t have to wonder any longer if the flesh-and-blood Dr. Langley lived up to his photo.

Now she knew.

His gaze swept over her. “Pop mentioned that his neighbor could fish and appreciated good bourbon. He didn’t mention she was a young, beautiful woman.”

“Um…” His beautiful comment and his slow perusal, from her messy bun to her toes, blazed her cheeks as red as her nail polish. “Sam is special to me too. He’s my friend.”

“So, I’ve been told. Still, I’m surprised he gave you his spare key. Pop doesn’t trust easily. How did you come to live next door to him?”

Tessa opened a bottle on the counter and poured bourbon into two tumblers. “I met Sam and Ralphie at the pier about two years ago when I moved in here with my friend, Lia. She rented the other side. She moved out shortly after Sam bought the place, but I stayed and agreed to be his property manager.”

Hudson accepted the bourbon. “That’s quite a convenient arrangement, don’t you think?”

Something electric sparked between their fingers. The jolt startled her as much as the suspicious edge in his question. Did he think she had befriended Sam to gain entrance to his money?

Hudson stepped in front of her. Raising his hand, he wiped bourbon off her cheek. She jerked her chin as a violent memory flared at his soft touch.

“Sorry.” He stuffed his hand in his pocket.

She touched her cheek. “It’s okay.”

Something flashed in his eyes as he sipped his drink. “Do you have any idea who my grandfather is?”

She opened her mouth to say she hadn’t known Sam was the Sam Langley. Instead, she swallowed her defense as Frank’s not-so-nurturing advice slithered into her mind.