He removes the hat and puts it, and his paper bag, in the back seat with Cookie. She sniffs the contents curiously. Then he pushes the passenger seat back as far as possible before getting in. We don’t speak in the car. The only sound is both of our phones blowing up with messages and texts—messages and texts that we both pointedly ignore.
I park in the driveway.
“Come in. I’ll get my first aid kit.”
“Thanks.” He retrieves the helmet and puts it back on, then grabs his bag.
I have him sit on a stool by the kitchen counter. Memories of the last time he was in my kitchen replay in my mind. Hudson lifting me onto the counter. Hudson sticking his tongue in my mouth. Hudson thrusting …
His eyes meet mine. Amber flecks are flashing in that sea of blue, and by the way he’s biting a lip and looking hungrily at me, I get the impression that he’s streaming the same episode in his memory as I am in mine.
I finish cleaning the cut and put a tiny, round Snoopy bandage on it. There. Nobody can look sexy with a Snoopy bandage on their jaw. Can they?
Nobody but Hudson, apparently. It only compromises the Viking costume a little.
“So … Ashley,” I say. “I suppose I should congratulate you.”
“Me? I mean, I really had nothing to do with it. And ultimately, I don’t really think it’s that big of a deal.” Hudson lays a hand on my arm and I recoil.
“You don’t think getting married is a big deal?”
I’m confused. Does he intend for me to be his piece on the side? Can that be what he’s come to talk about with me?
“It’s totally a big deal. For Ashley. And my dad. Not so much for me.”
“Wait, what?” I shake my head. “Hold on a minute …”
“You didn’t think that I was marrying Ashley, did you?”
“But I heard her, saying that staying in the lofts was the best decision ever, bragging to someone that she’d finally bagged a Holm.”
“Not this Holm.” Hudson tips my face to look at his. “Ashley is marrying my father, and I wish them both well. But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about, Georgia.”
“You’re not?” My brain is still trying to piece things together, and his touch makes it much harder to think.“No.” He shakes his head, and I feel myself swimming in his gaze. There’s that gravity issue again. It’s going in the wrong direction. Hudson is not marrying Ashley. My jealousy drifts off like so much space junk. I’m still dizzy though. Dizzy and drawn in his direction by some kind of magnetic anomaly.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
My stomach growls loudly and comically in response.
“How about I make us something to eat?” He holds up the paper bag.
“Isn’t it kind of late?” I protest.
“You’ve been working like a dog all day. Why don’t you go get into that glorious tub of yours and let me heat up something for you?”
He’s already heating something up for me, I think. But it’s not something in that bag. I want to go him. I want to run away.
“Okay,” I say, grateful for the chance to retreat and gather my thoughts. It’s impossible to think clearly with a Viking standing in the middle of my kitchen.
“Shall I knock when it’s ready?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say. I remove Cookie’s wings and fill her bowl with water before heading upstairs.
“Do me a favor?” he says. “As a friend? Don’t throw those wings away just yet.”
“You planning another party?” I ask.
“You never know,” he says with a winsome smile.
