Hudson’s Luck Read Online Lucy Lennox (Forever Wilde #4)

Categories Genre: Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Forever Wilde Series by Lucy Lennox
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
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After she left, Charlie’s tongue came out and slid deliciously over my palm, stirring up regret at being in public.

“Stop,” I said under my breath. “You’re making me hard.”

“I like making you hard.”

I glanced at him with a wink. “That’s all well and good, but you wanted steak. Which means you need to leave the other meat alone until we get home.”

“Oh my word, Hudson Wilde, is that you?” I jumped at the sound of the older woman’s voice over my shoulder. When I turned to look, I recognized my old elementary school teacher Mrs. Buck. I stood up to give her a hug, grateful my cock had turned to jelly at the sound of her voice.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s good to see you. West told me you’d retired.”

“I certainly did. Two years ago now. Howie and I are busy as bees managing a few lake rental properties we’ve invested in. I’m sure your family has told you how much Hobie’s lake tourism business has boomed in recent years.”

I noticed her glance at my dinner companion, and I realized I’d neglected to introduce them. “I’m sorry. Mrs. Buck, this is my date, Charlie Murray. Charlie, Mrs. Buck was my teacher when I was about nine or ten.”

Charlie’s eyes widened briefly at the word “date” but he quickly stood up to shake the older woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you. You must be good at your job Mrs. Buck, if Hudson is an example of the young minds you helped mold. He’s a hard worker and brilliant financial analyst. I’ve been lucky to work on a project with him recently, and I’ve seen it firsthand.”

The words warmed something inside of me, the little boy’s heart that still yearned for approval maybe.

Mrs. Buck looked at me with the same maternal affection she showed all of her students. “He’s always been a good egg. So responsible and organized. Hudson was the kind of student I could put in charge of the class if I needed to step out. It’s nice to know he’s fulfilled his potential. Well, I’ll let you two get back to your dinner. I just wanted to pop over and say hi.”

After she left, I must have been looking at Charlie with hearts in my eyes.

“You look like I just handed you a winning lottery ticket,” he said.

“You did. Thank you for saying all of that.”

He lifted a shoulder as if it hadn’t mattered. As if it hadn’t been everything I’d ever wanted to hear from someone I cared about. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

I reached across the table and took his hand. “You impress me too, Irish. I couldn’t be more amazed at how you’ve managed to come work on this project without losing your damned mind at the injustice of it all.”

“Injustice?”

“I… I know how hard it is for you to see Fig and Bramble being franchised like this. Yet you’ve handled it with grace. I’m not sure I could have done the same. And more than that… I’m sorry I had anything to do with getting you mixed up in the middle of this.”

He squeezed my hand and flashed a soft smile. “I know you’re the one who saved the pub from being bought out full stop. Devlin told me before I arrived here. At first I was still mad at you for being the cause of any of it, but now I see what a difficult position you were in. You did the best you could, and I’m grateful. I’d even go so far as to admit I’m happy with the result. I think we’ve done a bang-up job of it, honestly. But don’t go spreading that around.”

I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed each knuckle in turn. “Do you think you’d be willing to offer Tiffani your body in exchange for getting our food out quicker? I’d really like to get you home and naked as soon as possible.”

His laugh was one of my favorite sounds. “No need to give her this scrawny body. I’ll just belt out an Irish ballad for the young lady or recite some Yeats, yeah?”

When Tiffani came by to deliver our drinks, Charlie couldn’t resist.

“Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,” he began.

Tiffani’s eyes spouted cartoon hearts.

“It’s a Yeats poem,” I muttered as Charlie continued reciting with dramatic flair. “He’s not making it up on the fly.”

“Ashley!” she yelled across the restaurant. “Get over here! He’s reciting poetry for god’s sake.”

As several people gathered around to watch my beautiful date recite Irish poetry, all I could do was sit back and take pleasure in the fact he was coming home with me.

The following day I awoke painfully early and extracted myself from the warm sleeping Irishman who’d been wrapped around me like an octopus. I hated to leave him for the day but was grateful I’d stayed the night.



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