Make Me Yours Read online

  “It’s fine,” I finally get the chance to say, my eyes narrowing in on Grady who still looks like a nervous wreck. It wasn’t his idea to come here. “I’d love to have a chat and hear the excuse you have for backstabbing your best friend of twenty years over a goddamn chick.” I tilt my head towards the back door, grab my beer, and he follows me out when I slide out of my chair.

  I snatch the collar of his shirt and slam him against the brick exterior as soon as the door shuts behind us. “I told you to watch out for my fiancé,” I scream. “That didn’t give you permission to fuck her!”

  He looks up at me, his lower lip trembling when I wrap my hand around his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Hudson. It just happened!”

  I tighten my hold on him and inch closer until we’re nose to nose. “Having sex with someone doesn’t just happen. It’s not an accident that slams into you in seconds that you can’t stop. You had time to stop. You could’ve walked away. Shit, not only did you screw her behind my back, you proposed to her while she was engaged to me. That sure as fuck doesn’t just happen!”

  I’m burning up inside, and it’s taking every bit of restraint in me not to barrel my fist into his face. Cameron is vain enough that she’d dump his ass if he weren’t a pretty boy any longer.

  He tilts his head down and stares at the ground. “I love her,” he whispers.

  Those three words add fuel to the burning fire. He grunts when I pull him in closer and slam him against the wall again. “She was mine!”

  I release him and take a step back when the door flies open and Cameron comes out. I hold in my breath with a snarl. We haven’t talked in months. I never replied to her pathetic letter. She’d said enough for the both of us.

  My skin crawls. Being this close to her brings back all of our memories. It reminds me of the plans we’d made for when I got home. She was supposed to be my wife. The mother of my children. The woman I grew old with.

  “Don’t … don’t do this, Hudson,” she begs. “We only came here to do the right thing and clear the air.” Her voice lowers. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. We both are.”

  I’m a tough guy who’s withstood a lot of shit. But fighting back the pain and hurt of this betrayal from the two people I trusted with my life kills me more than anything.

  We lock eyes, and words neglect me while I stare into her baby blues. I might be able to push out all of my anger on Grady, but I can’t with her.

  Tears start to fall down her cheeks. “He was there for me when you weren’t,” she cries out. “I begged you! I begged you not to leave me again. I told you how difficult it was to be alone. I wanted to start a family, but you didn’t care!”

  “It was my fucking job, Cameron!” I scream.

  “You’re right, and the job of being a military wife wasn’t for me. I’m sorry.”

  “It is what it is,” I mutter. “You two stay the hell away from me. You deserve each other.”

  I turn around and walk away without another glance at them.

  A few months away from this town might be what I need to clear my head and get my shit straight.

  Let’s only hope this chick is easy to deal with.

  Chapter Two

  Hudson

  I depart from the terminal after landing in LAX and stroll through the mob of people rushing around and talking on their cell phones. I’m not a fan of crowds. Solitude is more my thing, but I have a feeling I better get used to the contrary. Dallas has told me the stories. Fans and paparazzi follow Stella around like a shadow.

  I never went back into the pub last night. Instead, I ditched my party and walked back to Dallas’ place to spend the rest of the night watching Disney movies with Maven.

  I’d gone from plans of coming home to fuck my fiancé senseless to sitting on the couch watching a cartoon about a nitwit teen who trades her voice for legs to get laid by Prince Charming. I didn’t get shit for sleep, and the cherry on top was Dallas waking me up at the ass crack of dawn to drive me three hours to the airport.

  I snag my luggage and sweep my gaze over the large area. Dallas texted me before my plane departed saying that Stella’s driver would be here to give me a ride. I scan the signs held up by people waiting until I see one with my name on it. I make my way over to a grey-haired older man wearing a suit.

  “You Jim?” I ask.

  He nods. “You Hudson?”

  “Sure am.” We shake hands, and I stop him from taking my luggage before he leads me out of the airport to a black SUV with windows tinted so dark I’m sure it’s illegal. My bag gets tossed into the backseat, and I settle myself in the front.

  “You worked for Stella long?” I ask when he starts the car and reverses out of the parking spot. Traffic is lined up bumper to bumper, and I question why anyone in their right mind would ever want to live in this shit.

  “Almost five years,” he replies. “I got hired right after your brother did, but I don’t travel with her. I only drive when she’s in LA.” He peers over at me. “Dallas was damn good at his job. I hope he passed that skill and professionalism onto you. And I hate to bring up the subject, but I want to express my condolences to your family.” He shakes his head with anguish crossing over his face – like a dark rush of pain has hit him. “I lost my wife to cancer last year. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to possibly have the chance of losing her so early – losing all of those years.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss and thank you. My sister-in-law is as tough as nails. She’ll make it through this, stronger than ever.” At least that’s what I want to make myself believe. We’re all doing our best to stay positive.

  We make small talk the rest of the ride, and Jim punches in the passcode when we stop in front of a security gate. He drives up to a lavish Spanish-style home that looks like it could house three families. Homes in Bluebeech are nothing this extravagant. Cameron and I were renting a two-bedroom farmhouse that looks like a shack compared to this place.

  “Hot damn,” I mutter. “Some crib for a twenty-five-year-old.”

  Jim parks and cuts the ignition. “Working on a long-standing, Emmy-award-winning TV show gives you a pretty decent paycheck.”

  “I’d say so.” It’s too excessive for one person, in my opinion. A place like this would make someone feel lonelier than hell. “Does she live here by herself?”

  “She does. Her sister used to stay with her sometimes, but she moved to New York six months ago.”

  I step out of the car and get a whiff of vanilla when I walk through the front door. I look around, admiring the hardwood floors and cathedral ceilings before making it to the living room where there’s a massive stone fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows giving me one of the most remarkable views I’ve ever seen.

  I get why she bought this place now.

  That fucking view.

  I could sit out there and think for hours with a sight like that.

  Two women walk into the room, their mouths dropping when they notice me. I rudely return the stare while watching them move our way. I recognize Stella immediately.

  How could I not?

  She’s all over the magazines in the checkout aisle and on TV. Cameron used to make me watch award shows with her where this chick won all the time for people’s choice shit.

  What I wasn’t expecting is how breathtakingly beautiful she is.

  My eyes stay pinned to her full-figured body. She’s enthralling, flawless, fucking perfection. No wonder every camera wants a shot of her.

  Stella Mendes is a woman who can bring a man to his knees with even the slightest hint of a smile. Hell, she doesn’t even have to smile. Just her presence makes you hungry for more.

  Fuck me.

  Good thing I’m only here until they find someone else to take over the job.

  I always assumed they made people look better on TV with make-up … Photoshop … some kind of fake shit, but that notion is slipping further into the dust with every step she moves in closer. Straight hair the co
lor of coal flows down her shoulders and over her chest, framing a heart-shaped face with only minimal make-up. White, skin-tight jeans that show off her endless curves stop only a few inches away from her ankles, and the black silk tank hanging loose on her shoulders gives me a glimpse of skin the color of honey that I’m sure feels even smoother. Her wide set, cocoa brown eyes are warm. Her smile is inviting.

  Her attractiveness doesn’t change my opinion of her, though. She might be gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean she’s a good person. Cameron has read me stories from her gossip magazines about Stella being a spoiled diva who expects people to jump when she hollers. There have been times it’s been difficult for Dallas to come home for the holidays because of her hectic schedule.

  That shit won’t fly with me.

  I’ll work for her, but I won’t be ordered around like a dog.

  She pushes out her sun-kissed hand complete with a pink manicure when she reaches me. “Hudson, thank you for coming.” Her voice is flat, telling me I’m not the only one unexcited for this arrangement.

  I shake her hand – her soft palm causing friction against my calloused one. “No problem.” My answer is as flat as hers.

  She jerks her head towards the petite redhead at her side that looks about the same age as her. She’s dressed more comfortably than Ms. Hollywood – wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a black t-shirt that says Go Fuck Your Selfie. “This is my assistant, Willow.”

  Willow smiles, giving me a friendly wave before clapping her hands. She gestures between Stella and me – either not noticing the awkward tension or choosing to ignore it. “Now that the introductions are out of the way, we’ve got shit to do. You two are going to be spending a lot of time together, and I want to make sure you take care of my girl.”

  Stella flinches.

  Sounds like a damn nightmare to the both of us.

  Chapter Three

  Stella

  Oh fuck.

  Not good. Not good.

  I am so screwed.

  My new bodyguard is …

  I’m unable to even think of the right words to describe him.

  Mouth watering?

  I laugh to myself.

  I couldn’t come up with something more original and less lame than that?

  Sexy. Masculine. Dominating.

  Unfortunately, all humans with a penis are off limits to me right now.

  Hudson is built, muscles aplenty, but not like the men who spend forty hours a week lifting weights at the gym to score the perfect six-pack for their next Instagram post. He’s sturdy – giving off the tough demeanor effortlessly. Someone would be bat shit crazy to mess with him, which is exactly what I need in a bodyguard. He’s taller than Dallas, around six five, I’m guessing. His ash brown hair is short in the front and buzzed on the sides. A military cut. He didn’t dress up for the occasion – wearing a pair of old jeans complete with worn holes, a white tee, and beat-up boots.

  We’ve yet to have an actual conversation, but I already feel safe with him.

  The downside is that I’m certain he’s not my biggest fan. The grimace on his face tells me he’d rather be anywhere but here. I’m obviously not his dream boss. So in return, I’m giving him what he’s giving me – an aloof smile, my head held high, and not much more conversation.

  Dallas has told me plenty about Hudson. He’s a small town boy who’s spent the last eight years serving our country. He isn’t into the whole Hollywood buzz and has called his brother a dumbass for working for me countless times.

  He must’ve been desperate to take this job.

  I wave goodbye to Jim, and Hudson joins Willow and me in the dining room. We get straight down to business as soon as we take our seats.

  “Willow will keep you up to speed on my schedule,” I inform him.

  As if on cue, Willow hands him a folder and starts to explain everything. “All of the information you’ll need is in here. Contact numbers and emails. A blueprint of the house, details of where you’ll be traveling, as well as the hotels you’re staying at.” She keeps going while Hudson listens, nodding his head silently. “How long have you been in the bodyguard business? I noticed Dallas didn’t list any references. He actually didn’t give me any information on you other than the fact that you’re his brother.”

  “First time,” he answers, his voice rough.

  “What?” Willow cries out. She looks over at me in shock. I knew I’d get this reaction, which is why I never shared that tidbit of information with her. Unlike her and everyone else, I trust Dallas’ word. Her attention goes back to Hudson. “So you’ve never worked in this field before?”

  I suck in a breath when he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and not looking phased at Willow’s concern whatsoever. “I haven’t been a bodyguard, but I have the experience of fighting for my country, providing security at embassies, and putting my life on the line every day for the safety of others. I think that should be enough training for this job. I pay attention to every movement around me, and my mind is always on the job. Always. And if it makes you feel better, I’m only here until you find someone more qualified to replace me.”

  We both stare at him stunned and speechless.

  Holy fucking hotness.

  That’s a damn good answer.

  “He’s cute,” Willow says when we’re alone in my bedroom. We showed Hudson his room and left him to unpack his bag … and hopefully take a happy pill to get out of his cranky mood. She holds up a finger. “Hold up, let me correct myself. He’s not cute. Cute is how you describe a three-year-old freckled kid. That guy is a whole lot of man hotness. All man hotness.”

  Willow isn’t only my assistant, she’s also my best friend. I can count on her more than anyone. She’s always had my back and won’t bullshit me when she thinks I’m doing something stupid. Frankly, she doesn’t kiss my ass like most people do.

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t go there.”

  “It’s time to move on from that douchebag.”

  “I have moved on from Knox. When I found out he bought a new house and moved that pink-haired chick in, it was my reality check. My final dose of get the fuck over it. He and I knew we weren’t meant to be together but were too comfortable with each other to actually cut the cord. He isn’t the reason I’m saying don’t go there. My situation is. I can’t fuck around with my security guard. You know mixing business with pleasure is a big no-no in my book. Not to mention, the dude looks like he can’t even stand the sight of me.”

  She climbs onto my bed and sits across from me. “True, I’m not sure what’s up his ass, either, but maybe he’ll warm up. Just because he works for you doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.” She wiggles her shoulders back and forth. “You need to get laid before cobwebs start forming down there. Lack of dick is also making you very irritable. Get some dick – grow a smile. Just like he does his job, I’m sure he gives it his all in the bedroom.”

  I throw my head back to stop myself from laughing. “Why am I friends with you again?”

  She pumps her hand into the air. “Because I’m Team Get Stella Laid.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. Last I heard from Dallas was that Hudson is engaged to some long time girlfriend. They all meet their wives in like third grade around there.”

  She frowns. “Well, if you can’t get a piece of him we need to find you someone else.”

  “Reality check. Getting laid in my situation is not only doubtful but stupid.”

  She gives me an annoyed glare. “You can bitch about it all you want, but I don’t feel sorry for you. I told you not to do it.”

  We’ve gone round and round about this. “It was the best move for my future. My career triumphs relationships and sex. I won’t walk through my door one night and find my career sticking his cock into another chick.”

  She rolls her green eyes. “Oh please, you’ll always have plenty of work. You’ve been famous for years because of your acting, your damn talent. Don’t let th
em assholes tell you otherwise.”

  “It’s a big deal migrating from television to movies. I want to be taken seriously and for people to see me beyond being Clementine.” Clementine Storms is the character I played on my show. She was a geeky girl who found out she was a witch and spent her time experimenting and fucking up everything she tried.

  She snorts. “People aren’t going to take you seriously if word gets out what you’re doing. You’ll be the joke of showbiz. They’ll sever all respect, resulting in you becoming desperate and taking bad roles on the Lifetime channel where your husband plots to kill you.”

  I scowl. “I’ll take my chances.”

  She’s right. It’ll demolish any credibility I have, which was why I refused at first, but eventually, they broke me down, telling me it was best for my career. I’ve questioned myself on whether I made the right decision since the moment I said yes.

  “Can I ask you something?” Hudson asks.

  Willow went home twenty minutes ago, so it’s only the two of us now. I just finished giving him the full tour of the house – showing him where the security room is, the placement of all the cameras, and how he has screens in his room as well. He’d stayed quiet while filling out his paperwork and signing all of the non-disclosures. I thought maybe he’d open up when she left, but he’s still giving me the cold shoulder.

  He’s more intense than his brother. With Dallas, I immediately felt comfortable. He cracked jokes, shared stories about his family, and was an open book. Hudson is distant, glowering, and humorless. He’s locked up with what seems like no key.

  “Shoot,” I answer. It’s about damn time he seemed interested in something.

  He runs his hand through his hair. “I should’ve asked this earlier.” He pauses and looks around. “What exactly are my duties here? What do I do all day?”

  “Like Willow said, be prepared to spend time with me, a lot of time with me. You’ll accompany me everywhere I go. You’ll also travel with me and stay here when I’m home.” His face shifts into a more guarded expression with my last statement. I can tell Dallas failed to inform him on that tidbit of information. I shrug. “I like to feel safe.”