The Fixed Trilogy(Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You)(74)

I waited until my curiosity couldn’t be contained any longer to ask why Sophia and Mira weren’t eating with us. Not that I wanted Sophia’s company, but I would have loved to spend time with Hudson’s sister.

“They’re out shopping for baby stuff,” Adam said in between bites of ham sandwich. He took a swallow of his lemonade. “Mira wanted to invite you. She looked for you before she left, but she couldn’t find you.”

“Darn. That must have been when we were touring the grounds. Sorry, Laynie.” Jack didn’t look at all remorseful.

My own response to the idea fell out unfiltered. “Fuck that. Like I’d go anywhere with Sophia, let alone shopping.” I covered my mouth with my hand. “Sorry!”

Chandler was the first to burst into laughter, joined a moment later by Jack and Adam. Even Hudson let out a chuckle.

“I’m totally with you there,” Adam said when he could speak.

“I think Mom feels the same way about you,” Chandler said, putting his feet up on the edge of the table. “She seemed to be glad when Mira couldn’t find you.”

“Chandler.” Hudson’s tone was a warning.

“It’s okay, H.” I put a hand on his thigh, careful not to let on everyone see how much I enjoyed feeling his tight muscles through the material of his slacks. “Your mother and I are a long way from friendly. It’s not a secret.”

Hudson nodded, but his brow furrowed. Did he really care that much about his mother’s opinion? Jack was right—that was too bad.

After lunch, Adam and Chandler corralled me into playing X-Box 360 with them in the media room. Hudson spread out on the couch near us, his thick reports and folders taking up most of the sofa while he worked on his laptop. Eventually Jack brought out a deck of cards and we played poker using pistachios for chips. As I’d suspected, Jack won a great deal of the time, though Chandler also had a surprising knack for the game.

After losing all of my pistachios in a bluff that Chandler called me on, I stretched and looked over at Hudson. Even though he hadn’t participated in our games, I never forgot he was near, his presence invading every part of my body like a constant electric pulse. Occasionally when I glanced over at him, which happened often, I saw he was already staring. It was our own game of secret foreplay—looking at each other, undressing each other with our eyes. Later, I knew, he’d make good on the promises in his sexy stare.

This time, his eyes were glued to his screen, his glasses resting low on his nose while his fingers moved on the keyboard at a pace that suggested he was thinking as he typed. I crossed behind him and leaned down to rest my chin in the crook of his neck, wrapping my arms around him.

At my touch, Hudson lifted a hand from his computer and patted my arm. “Game over?”

“For me.” I pulled to a standing position and rubbed my hands along his shoulders. “Wow, H. You’re tense.” He sighed as I massaged my fingers into the knots of his back. “What’s getting you stressed out?” I hoped it wasn’t our girlfriend/boyfriend show, though his tight muscles could have been attributed to the activities of the night before. The man had performed some moves that had to have required a great deal of strength.

“This situation with Plexis.” He paused and I knew he was deciding whether to say more or not. It wasn’t in his nature to share, but I’d thought I convinced him that he could talk business with me. I continued working his back as I waited, giving him a chance to continue.

My patience was rewarded. “The board is moving to sell. I need to come up with an attractive proposal to convince them it’s more profitable to keep the company.”

Even though he couldn’t see me, I nodded. I studied the screen over his head, enjoying the quiet moans that escaped from his throat as I massaged his tension away. “You’re redistributing production?” I asked. But I didn’t need his answer. I could see from what he’d entered that he was. “You’d make a whole lot more if you moved those North America lines to your Indonesia plant. You’re far from capacity there.”

“Oh, you’re one of those types who resort to taking jobs away from American people to cut costs.”

“Not usually,” I said, balling my hand into a fist to push into the rock under Hudson’s shoulder blade. “But you’re going to lose all your USA jobs if you don’t do something, right? Losing a few is better than losing them all.”

“Yes,” he admitted.

I smiled as he changed his data to implement my suggestion, giddy that I’d offered an idea that he’d accepted. Throwing a bit more back into my hands, I felt Hudson’s tight muscle close to releasing. “Take a deep breath.” He did and I pushed once more into his knot, feeling it loosen as I did.