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I woke up at four that morning feeling like a new man. The headache, body aches, and fever were gone. It was probably a twenty-four virus. I believed the flu would have lasted longer.
I yanked the sheets off my bed sheets and carried them to the washer. I had sweated a lot and wanted to get rid of all the germs if I wanted Eugene in bed with me. Before showering, I guzzled a Gatorade and ate a few bites of ham. The hot water was heaven. I brushed my teeth while I stood underneath the spray. As I lathered soap over my chest, I recalled one small detail from the night before and stiffened.
I asked Genie to call me hubby.
Holding my head beneath the spray, I sulked. I truly believed Eugene would be my wife one day, but that didn’t mean I should scare the fuck out of her by bringing up the word ‘hubby’. She might not like clingy people, and I felt like I could hold her hand all day if she let me. Fuck. I shook my head. I haven’t recognized myself since Eugene entered my life. But the changes were good. I liked how she made me feel. I liked having someone to care for. It made me happy to see how she wanted to care for me while I felt bad, even if it worried me, she’d get sick. She might think I was crazy, but it was who I was becoming around her. For her, I cared more than I ever thought possible.
Her being my wife was the future I wanted. But it was hard enough to keep her in my bed. I had to make her fall in love with me if I wanted her to one day be my wife.
I loved Eugene. I fucking loved her. I might die if she left me.
The question was, what did Eugene feel when she was around me?
FORTY
EUGENE
Since working at Homestyle, I discovered most customers and their orders blurred together after a while. The only faces I remembered were our regulars, and that was because they visited frequently. Except I’d never encountered a man quite like the older gentleman in booth eight. Loretta said he asked for me, so she put him at one of my tables. She had smiled and told me, “He asked for you. I bet you’ll get a good tip.” I didn’t get that vibe from him. The way he scowled at me put me on edge. The hairs on my arm stood on end every time I went to his table.
I didn’t know why. He didn’t seem out of the ordinary. Nothing screamed dangerous about him besides the way he continued to glare.
I stood in the corner, wiping down one of the back booths, when a hand came up to my forehead. I jumped and spun around. My shoulders sagged when I saw Hudson crowding over me. “You scared me,” I whispered, glancing around to make sure no one paid attention to us.
He bent down and pressed his forehead against mine. I let my eyes close briefly, enjoying the contact even though I knew he was fussing. “Do you feel like you’re getting sick?” he asked.
He’d been asking that for two days. Hudson hadn’t invited me to his room, and I hoped it had something to do with the fact that he was making sure he was better. He had just returned to work that morning, but the man had constantly checked on me.
When he pulled away, I smiled. “I told you I don’t get sick much, but when I do, it’s normally bad, so be warned.”
“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” he promised, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You do take care of me. Probably too much.”
“Not enough,” he corrected.
“That’s how spoiled brats are created, Hudson.” The second I spoke his name; I remembered the conversation we had had when he’d been sick. He had asked me to pick out a pet name for him, but he had also said it could be hubby. He was probably out of his head because of the fever. He hadn’t brought it up again, but my body heated at the memory. I had thought about what I could call him and came up with something. I just wasn’t feeling brave enough to say it yet.
“You can be my spoiled brat.” He grinned. “I like that idea a lot. But I still don’t want you to get sick.”
My heart pounded out of control. I didn’t know it was possible to be so happy. Gran would likely call me a fool for being swept up in those feelings for Hudson, but she wasn’t a romantic. If she saw him, even once, I believed she would tell me to stop filling my head with doubt and just live.
“Everyone gets sick,” I said.
He groaned. “Don’t remind me.” He glanced toward the back of the restaurant. “Let me know if you need me, okay?”
I laughed. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy for you.” His fingers grazed my cheek.
Butterflies danced in my stomach as he sauntered away. As soon as I turned, I locked eyes with Sue who sat in one of the front booths. When she wanted to pester me, she sat around and made comments as I worked. Her grin stretched from ear to ear. She totally caught me with her grandson.
“Genie,” she practically sang my name.
Damn it.
Groaning, I walked over. “What is it, Sue? I have tables to check on.”
