“Yeah, he’s got his work cut out for him if he’s going to have any kind of relationship with that kid.”
Heavenly opened her mouth to respond before loud footsteps stomped up the stairs. A moment later, Hudson appeared now dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top with big, bare feet. He was tall and lanky, lean with muscle. Just like his dad. Jesus, the resemblance was uncanny.
“Food will be here in thirty minutes,” Beck told the kid.
Plenty of time for the inquisition.
“Have you eaten today?” Heavenly offered, rising. “Do you need a snack to tide you over until dinner comes?”
“Do you wait hand and foot on dear old dad, too?” Hudson eyed her.
“She asked you a yes or no question,” Beck snapped.
“No. I had a sandwich a couple of hours before I found you.”
“Have a seat.” Beck head-bobbed to the chair across from him.
“I’ll stand.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
“Son of a bitch,” Hudson muttered. “You looking to bust my balls?”
“Only if you make me. I want information. We can do this easy or hard—up to you.”
The teen sighed as if the whole situation was one giant imposition and plopped into the chair. “What?”
“So you live in Connecticut?” Beck did his best to keep his tone conversational.
“Cromwell,” Hudson confirmed. “Shitty little town south of Hartford.”
“You’re a long way from home,” Heavenly clucked like a mother hen. “How did you get here?”
Beck suppressed a smile. His little girl was both feeling her maternal streak and playing peacekeeper, smoothing over what she probably saw as his too-direct approach. But someone needed to cut through Hudson’s shitty attitude.
“Well, I didn’t fucking walk,” Hudson drawled. “Of course I bought a plane ticket. Duh.”
It took all of Beck’s restraint not to grab the kid by the throat and squeeze. Instead, he got in Hudson’s face. “Don’t talk to her like she’s an idiot, or we’re going to have problems. Are we clear?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “This is just awkward as fuck.”
“You’re not making things any better by mouthing off. How did you pay for your plane ticket?”
“I had a job over the summer. I saved some money,” Hudson said defensively.
“What kind of job?” In Beck’s experience teenagers with unexplained cash usually had sketchy side-hustles.
Hudson’s expression shuttered completely. “Student by day…gigolo by night.”
Beck raised a brow. “Sure you are, smart-ass. Try again.”
The kid’s mouth quirked slightly—surprise, maybe, that Beck was keeping up verbally. “I was a lifeguard at the local pool, okay? Geez…”
“Better. We know you want to meet Seth, but what else do you want from him?”
“Closure? A relationship?” Heavenly asked, her voice a feather compared to his anvil.
Hudson’s laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. “I don’t want a damn thing except to put a face to the name of my sperm donor daddy.”
