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Suddenly in need of fresh air, or maybe some quiet to temper the sadness that had sprung up inside her, Rebecca headed for the doors. Someone called her name—Violet maybe? But she ignored her and pushed her way through the dance floor, bumping into more than a few couples and stepping on more than a few toes.
Her eyes on the wide doors just beyond the ticket table, she damn near ran over Mrs. Avery, the flower shop lady, and barely managed an apology on her way out. By the time she reached the parking lot, she was wheezing and her chest hurt. She swore because her purse and inhaler were inside, but no way was she ready to go back in the
re. Not yet. Leaning against the nearest truck, she glanced up at the big night sky, and eventually, her breathing slowed.
What the hell was wrong with her?
But she knew. Didn’t she?
“You okay?” The voice slid over her like warm whiskey. Just the sound of it sent shivers rippling across her skin, and dammit, there went her heart again. Beating like a freaking drum and making her feel weak.
Shoot. Me. Now.
Slowly, Rebecca’s eyes opened. Hudson stood a few feet away, bathed in moonlight or starlight…or whatever the hell beam of light was reserved for the insanely hot and dangerous. It emphasized every single thing about him. The wide shoulders. The long legs. The chiseled, handsome features. The utter masculinity of the man.
It wasn’t fair. And it pissed her off.
She pushed away from the truck, letting that anger roll over her. “Are you stalking me now?”
Was that a small smile touching his lips?
“No.” He nodded behind her. “That’s my truck, and I forgot my wallet.” The way he looked at her made all sorts of alarm bells go off inside her. The air was thick and heavy. She needed to move but couldn’t.
She stared across the space between them and nearly took a step forward before she caught hold of her senses and stopped herself. What the hell was wrong with her? This was Hudson Blackwell, for God’s sake. She needed to dismiss him and get on with her night.
I need to get laid.
The thought sliced through her brain at about the same time he tilted his head to the side, in that way that was achingly familiar. His dark eyes regarded her, an intense glint within them, and she felt the subtlest vibration travel across her body as they locked gazes. It was like small invisible fingers of lightning lit the air, and this need inside her…this desire to be touched was the conduit.
It had been ages. Well over a year since she’d felt the touch of a man’s hand. As the band quieted down and the stillness of the evening washed over her, she heard a ragged edge to his breathing. Saw the muscle work its way along his jaw. It was then she knew.
There was still something there between them.
That ache inside her exploded until it spread through her body like a train barreling down the track. Her heart rushed to keep up, and she stumbled a bit, dizzy and hot and suddenly more scared than she wanted to be.
She needed to be away from him.
Needed to assuage the ache inside her.
Needed to think straight.
Rebecca never said a word. She took off toward the dance and left Hudson by his truck. She didn’t look back, though she felt the heat of his gaze on her. She didn’t stop walking until she reached the bar and handed over a ticket to the bartender. She decided she needed the hard stuff to get her through.
She turned to face the dance floor and took a sip of the vodka and soda. Almost instantly, she caught a smile from Nate Smith. Usually, she ignored that sort of thing. But tonight? Right now? She smiled back. There were several men in the room she knew were interested in her. Several men to choose from. Maybe it was about time she took care of a few things. Maybe then she wouldn’t turn into an idiot when she saw Hudson Blackwell. She had an empty house tonight, and she needed a man. It shouldn’t be hard.
“You look like you’re on a mission.” Violet slid up beside her.
“I am.”
“Should I ask?”
“I need to get laid.”
Violet nodded. “Girl, I’ve been telling you that for six months.” She paused and glanced around the room. “What about Derek Silver?”
“No. He used to date Nadine, remember?”
“Right. That would be weird.” Violet’s forehead crinkled. “Jonathan Lambert?”
