Love, Tussles, and Takedowns (Cactus Creek #3)(24)

They grabbed a table and effortlessly slid back into the conversation they’d begun last night before she’d fallen asleep on him over the phone again.

“So yes, my parents were my first kung fu teachers—strictly Southern Wing Chun style, not Northern Shaolin. Some families had a basketball hoop or kicked a soccer ball around out back; we had a traditional Wing Chun wooden dummy in our yard, where we practiced kung-fu every weekend.”

“It’s great that you kept it up all these years.”

Her smile turned down at the corners. “Actually, I stopped for a while after my parents died, but my foster family pushed me to pick it up again later in high school. Then after I graduated, I started studying more MMA styles of fighting.” With a conspiratorial, slightly guilty drop in her voice, she confided, “My foster dad absolutely did not want me studying Muay Thai or Krav Maga. So as far as he knows, I don’t.”

“I take it he’s never seen you fight then.”

“Oh, he has. But Caine keeps reassuring him that what he’s seeing is basic self-defense kung fu and a little Kajukenbo, our little catch-all fighting style we use to explain away anything he sees as remotely MMA.”

Hudson smiled. “It must be nice to have someone worry over you like that.”

She looked up at him and caught his expression. “Do you not? Have someone to worry over you?”

“Not blood-related. Not really. Not in the same way.”

“You’d have it if you’d give some of us a chance,” interrupted a deep voice from behind them.





CHAPTER SEVEN


HUDSON DIDN’T NEED to look up from the table to know who it was. His cousin’s voice hadn’t changed much over the years. He sighed. “How’d you find me, Ben?”

“Your lovely actress friend, Fiona, was kind enough to direct me over here.”

Okay, scratch his earlier assessment. Ben did sound different. He sounded like he just came back from a day on the yacht after a rigorous morning of polo, just in time to shine his cufflinks for a night at the opera.

See, this is what happens when you extract the normal Joe-Schmoes from a guy’s life and leave him surrounded with only the privileged and pretentious. On the other hand, the fact that his cousin was actually wearing jeans—a designer pair though they probably were—gave Hudson a little hope that his influence when they were growing up had permeated a little, despite Ben’s parents’ best efforts.

“You? Consorting with entertainers outside of a fundraising event?” Hudson rolled out a truckload of sarcasm in his tsks. “Now what would Aunt Lorraine and Uncle Robert have to say?”

“Luckily for us all, they’re out in the Hamptons for the spring so we won’t have to find out.”

Was that a hint of defiance in his perfect Stepford cousin’s voice? Interesting. Hudson felt the twitch of a smile touch the corner of his mouth. “Lia, this is my cousin, Ben. Ben, this is my…friend, Lia.”

Now it looked like Lia was holding back an amused smile also.

“Nice to meet you, Ben.”

“Likewise,” replied Ben with a commercial-ready grin and one of those fancy two-handed handshakes.

Nope, still a Stepford. And the charm was positively oozing out of his cousin like stink off a skunk.

Hudson leveled his cousin with a look. “What are you doing here?”

“Like I said, I saw your friend Fiona on set. She remembered me, came over to chat, and directed me here since you haven’t answered any of my calls over the past few months.”

“Not true. I talked to you on the phone two months ago.”

“About your military associate that you referred to me, yes. But you hung up shortly after.”

“I wasn’t a huge fan of the hold music.”

Lia’s lips twitched again.

Okay, so maybe he enjoyed mussing up his cousin’s neatly pressed composure a little more than he needed to. It was way too much fun. Case in point… “Hey, and don’t forget that nice congrats note I sent over to your office last month when you won that big medical award.”

“Yes, thank you for the singing telegram.” Ben’s expression was both amused and exasperated. “The nurses were very, errr, appreciative of the delivery man’s rather impressive…stethoscope.”

At that, Lia burst out laughing.

Hudson leaned over and explained the short version to Lia. “Ben here is one of the best in the field of cardiac surgery, a Harvard man, an avid golfer with a near-pro game, the pride of his parents’ eyes, and the shining example to which I was never able to live up to in my parents’ eyes.” He looked over at Ben. “Did that just about cover the highlights?”

“I’m also a patron of the arts and fluent in three languages,” retorted Ben without missing a beat.

Despite the intense desire Hudson had to accidentally squirt ketchup on his cousin’s crisp white shirt, he had to smile a little over that. Looks like the magic beans he’d planted to help Ben grow a mind of his own years ago had taken root after all.

“And unlike my aunt and uncle,” continued Ben, “I’ve never hesitated to tell all my colleagues about my heroic cousin’s service to his country.”

Well, hell. Rendered speechless by his cousin for the first time in their lives, Hudson wordlessly pulled up a third chair to the table because of course his perfect cousin had been too genteel to sit down uninvited.