Chapter One
Hudson
Depositing my gift on the table at the front of the restaurant, I walk over to Mom, lean in, and plant a kiss on her cheek. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” She smiles brightly. “I’m so happy all my kids could be here tonight.”
I raise a brow and look around the restaurant. “Holland is here?”
“In the back with Addy.”
“You mean Holland’s drillmaster boss actually let her leave the city for the night?”
“I hear her boss isn’t the only one who runs a tight ship.” Mom gives me a hard look. “Nurses talk, Hudson. You should go easy on them. You don’t want to go getting a bad reputation as someone who’s hard to work with. Especially when you’re already known as a man who’s hard to…” She goes quiet and shakes her head.
“Hard to what, Mom?”
“You’re not actually going to make me say it, are you?”
“One: I’m not a hardass boss. I just became an attending. I have to prove myself, especially given my age. I like things done right, is all. If that’s wrong then sue me. And two: just because I don’t want to settle down with one woman and have a gaggle of snotty-nosed kids doesn’t make me a deplorable person.”
“Tell that to the three women in the booth over there who’ve been staring daggers at you for the last five minutes.”
I turn to see Lynda Graves, Elsa Truman, and—I have to think hard on it—Krista or Kristin something or other, all watching me like I kidnapped their children and sold them for parts. I roll my eyes. “I thought this was a private party.”
“I didn’t want them to turn away any paying customers just for little old me.”
I watch Cooper Calloway, one of the managers here at Donovan’s Pub, deliver drinks to the brooding trio. He stops to wish my mother a happy birthday on his way back. Then he holds his hand out to me. I chuckle as I shake, knowing that not even a year ago, Cooper and his brothers, Tag and Jaxon, were the archenemies of my brothers and me. We grew up hating each other for sport because of a bet made by our ancestors. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
He tosses a look over his shoulder. “Might want to steer clear of that side of the room.”
“Noted,” I say as he hurries off to another table.
A hand claps my shoulder. I turn to see Hunter holding his two-month-old son, Myles—the baby I personally delivered. And although I never plan to have children of my own, I’m happy being an uncle to his. Next to Hunter is our oldest brother, Hawk, holding twenty-month-old Rivi.
Mom fawns over their kids as she does all the children here. Being a grandmother, aunt, mom, and stepmom is her entire life. The baby starts fussing, and Mom takes him just as her husband, Jonah Calloway—the man she left our father for (enter another reason we hated the Calloways)—comes up next to us.
“Heather, my love, what do you think?” he says, his eyes bouncing between both kids. “Do you think we should have another one of these?”
She giggles. “I’m flattered you still see me as someone young enough to do that.”
He kisses her cheek. “You look twenty-nine to me.”
“Get a room,” Hawk says jokingly.
Jonah laughs. “We might just do that.”
Dani, my fourteen-year-old half-sister, butts in, saving us all from the rest of that conversation. “Mom, have you seen the pile of presents? It’s huge.”
Mom doesn’t bother looking at the gift table, but her eyes sweep the rest of the room. “I’m very fortunate to have a lot of family and friends, aren’t I? Speaking of that, I’d better go make the rounds.” She hands Myles off to me. Not back to Hunter. Me.
I’m so tired of this shit. I get it. I’m the third and youngest McQuaid brother. The only one who hasn’t been broken, bribed, and manipulated by our rich-as-shit grandfather, Tucker. What nobody seems to get is that I won’t be. I can’t be. I’m different. I have a career I love and no desire to end up pussy-whipped like my brothers.
“Well, would you look at this,” a stilted feminine voice sneers behind me. “Hudson McQuaid holding a baby, looking like a perfect little family man when we all know he’s nothing more than a lying, cheating, pig.”
I turn to see Krista, or Kristin, or whoever, glaring at me. Her two friends stand in solidarity behind her, arms crossed as if going to battle. I hand Myles off to his dad. “Listen, Krista.”
Lynda steps forward. “It’s Krystal, you bastard. How easily you forget the name of the woman you cheated on me with.”
“You’re kidding, right? First off, we weren’t in a relationship, Lynda. We fucked. And secondly, if you’re so pissed about it, what are you doing here with her? She was obviously a willing participant.”
“We didn’t know each other very well until it happened,” Krystal says. She locks arms with the other two. “We’re all friends now. Along with Julianne Hubbard, Olivia Madsen, Linney Granger—”
“What the hell?” I say, hearing her run off a list of the women I’ve slept with. “Have you formed a club or something?”
“Or something,” Elsa says, getting in my face.
Elsa is gorgeous with a banging hot body that’s difficult to forget. She’s a former patient of mine, as are some of the others mentioned. Which means I know her very well, inside and out. Okay, so yeah, technically I shouldn’t go around screwing former patients. But being one of about six OB/GYNs in Calloway Creek, I’d have to rule out a shit ton of women if I didn’t. I’m not stupid. I’ve never propositioned a patient. And I don’t actively seek them out. But there’s nothing wrong with me hooking up with them if they’ve moved on to another doctor. Which, okay, I may have suggested they do once or twice before boning them so I wouldn’t get brought up on charges after.
Elsa smells like oranges. She did back then, too. Must be something she washes her hair with. My dick twitches when I close my eyes and remember that smell as she sucked me off. Oh, that mouth. It’s one for the books.
My eyes fly open when she slaps my face, the sting of it turning a happy memory to exasperation.
“What the hell did you do that for?” I yell.
I don’t miss the fact that my brothers have taken the children across the room, and that the place has gone silent.
“We’re boycotting you, Hudson McQuaid.”
“Boycotting me? So you really have started a club.” I laugh and rub my cheek. “What’s it called, the I fucked Hudson and now I’m sad he won’t marry me and give me all his money club?”
Another slap heats up my face.
“Jesus.” I step back, out of range. “It’s not like I led any of you on. You knew the score. I don’t do relationships. Get over yourselves already.”
Lynda sidles up next to Elsa. “You’re going to be hard pressed to find a woman in this town who will fall for your misplaced charm, Hudson. It’s a small town. By the time we’re done, your balls will be so blue, the only thing you’ll be fucking is your right hand.”
“Now, see—that’s where you’re wrong. I’m left-handed.”
Chuckles come from behind me. Probably from my brothers.
The three women turn in unison and walk out of the restaurant. Who do they think they are, butting in on Mom’s birthday and laying into me like that? They’re the ones with the problem, not me. Every chick in this town knows I’m not looking for a wife, a girlfriend, or even a long-term lover. And they may think they come off as high and mighty, but everyone knows all they really want is a meal ticket. They know who I am, what I come from, and how much money sits in my trust fund. And they’re just pissed their name isn’t on it too.
I, for one, know the numbers in said fund are enough to lure a lot of girls away from their so-called ‘club’ and into my arms, even if only for a night. Because sooner or later, they all think they could be the one to land me. Especially since my brothers, who were also certified bachelors, have both recently been ‘landed.’
Finally, the silence is broken when Hawk’s fiancée, Addy, and my sister, Holland, come out from the back holding a cake with a crap ton of candles aflame on top. The whole place breaks out in an off-key version of ‘Happy Birthday.’ Everyone in the entire restaurant is singing. Everyone but me and one other person.
Pappy stares me down from across the room, his eighty-six-year-old eyes boring into me. I curse the three girls who left, knowing they’re the reason he’s not going to leave until he opens a can of whoop ass and pours it all over my goddamn head.
~ ~ ~
Mom thanks everyone for their presence and their generosity and people start filing out the door. My brothers and I are carrying her gifts to the car when a sound coming from the shadows makes me physically gag. It’s the distinct phlegmy sound only a really old man can make when clearing his throat. And I know I’m being watched, scrutinized, and judged by my older-than-dirt grandfather.
“Here it goes,” Hunter says, standing back and leaning against Jonah’s SUV.
Hawk settles next to him, an amused look on his face.
I put the last of the gifts in the trunk and shake my head at them. “Both of you can fuck off.”
Hunter holds up his hands. “Hey, I’m just here for the show.”
“There isn’t going to be any show,” I huff. “I’m not like you sorry saps. I won’t be manipulated into doing shit for that fossil.”
Both of them just stare as footsteps approach me from behind.
“Hudson,” Pappy says. “A word?”
I thumb to my car. My sleek red Maserati parked at the end of the row so it doesn’t get dinged by any of the cut-rate used cars in this sleepy little town. “Actually, I’ve got to get going.”
“Someone waiting on you?” he asks. “A date perhaps.”
I don’t bother answering. We both know he’s posturing. My grandfather is old and well past his prime, yet he can somehow command all the attention in every room. Some would say he earned respect by building his empire from the ashes left by his father. I say it’s because he’s richer than God and people bow to money like it’s a deity.
“Why don’t we head back inside,” he says. “I’ll buy you a scotch.”
“I’m on call tonight.”
“Well, then, I’ll buy you a club soda.”
“I need to go home and get in a few hours of sleep.”
“In the morning then. I’ll come by your house. I’ll bring breakfast.”
“Like I said, Pappy, I’m on call. I’ll most likely not even be there. Whatever you have to say, say it now.”
He looks over my shoulder at my brothers. I just know they’re holding in laughter waiting to hear what ultimatum I’m about to be given. A threat of disinheritance. A bribe maybe. Something to make me fall in line and become a better person.
Our grandfather is a hypocrite. He was a lying, cheating husband until well into his seventies. Yet now he stands here and pretends like none of that meant anything because he’s somehow been reformed. And he thinks all of his descendants need to be like him. Well, maybe not all. I never see him wasting time on my father. Could be he thinks he’s a lost cause. Or maybe it’s because Dad already has a good share of Pappy’s money. Maybe he thinks since he still controls my trust fund he controls me too. Well, think again, old timer.
“I was just thinking what an embarrassment it must have been for Heather when those women confronted you.”
“Mom didn’t even notice.”
“Oh, she noticed, boy. And the look on her face said everything. You claim you want to be a highly respected physician, yet you treat women the way you do. The two can’t go hand in hand, Hudson.”
“What I do in my private life is not your concern.”
He steps closer, the white whiskers of his wiry beard poke at my ear. “Everything you do concerns me, boy,” he grumbles.
“What are you going to do, Pappy? Cut me off? Blackmail me like you did my brothers? It isn’t going to work. You can’t banish me to the city with a few thousand dollars—I have a job. You can’t force me to raise a kid—because, oh, wait… I don’t have one. You can threaten to take away my trust fund, but we all know when it comes down to it you won’t really do it. And, come on, I’m your only grandson who’s even done something worthwhile with my life. I graduated from college early. Got through med school on an accelerated program. I’m twenty-eight fucking years old and am an attending physician. I’m like the golden child. So I like women. In the overall scheme of things, is it really that bad that I only choose to like them for an hour or two at a time?”
He gathers the material on the front of my shirt with his fist. “Watch your tone around me, boy. I may be old, but I’m not above giving you a whoopin’.”
My pager goes off. Pappy releases my shirt, and I smooth it down before fishing my pager out of my pocket. I smirk as I hold it up to him. “I guess you could say I’m saved by the bell. Duty calls.”
“We’re not done,” he says with a curl of his lip. “We’re not nearly done.”
“Let me save you the trouble, Pappy. We are done. I am who I am, and if that’s not good enough for you, then take your damn trust fund back. I’m making good money. I’ve got the house, my car, my family, my investments. I’ll be rich enough without you or your money.”
As I start to walk away, I see the fire in his eyes simmer. It’s a look I rarely see from the great Tucker McQuaid. It reeks of defeat.
And I know I’ve won.
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