I’m pretty sure I saw her grin right before she left the room and disappeared down the hallway.
My chin drops as I stare after her. “Unbelievable.” I shouldn’t be surprised because in the time I’ve known her, I’ve learned one thing about this woman—she loves to meddle, absolutely loves it.
I try to focus on getting the cracked eggshells out of my mix, hoping maybe Hudson and I can both just ignore the whole topic.
“Grandma is right, I really don’t mind helping.”
Well, so much for that.
Hudson walks over to me with a neutral expression on his face. After putting Mira’s empty plate and bowl in the sink, one side of his mouth lifts up and the traitorous dimple pops out. “But I have one condition.”
Chapter Four
One condition.
Hudson’s words crawl over my skin in an uneasy way, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up as a shiver rushes through me involuntarily.
Of course there has to be a condition. There always has to be something. Why can’t people do things just because they want to help, not because they want something in return? Sebastian was a master at this game, positively making me distrustful toward anyone asking for a favor, or offering help.
“Just spit it out, Hudson.” The words fly out of my mouth a bit harsher than I intended, and I grind my teeth in an effort to calm down.
I know he doesn’t deserve my anger. He hasn’t done anything mean or malicious—yet. The look on his face confirms I might have taken it a bit too far, or at the very least, confused him. He can’t possibly know why his words trigger such an abrupt change in my behavior. Instead of reciprocating my frustration, or going beyond that and slipping into anger, the look in his eyes softens. One corner of his mouth lifts up the tiniest bit as he takes a step back, holding up both of his hands as if to placate me.
Crap.
This is not how I’ve wanted to start things with him. He’s probably a second away from declaring me crazy and kicking us out of the house after all.
I let out a big breath and stumble back onto a kitchen bar stool. “I’m sorry.”
I know he isn’t like Sebastian, not even in the slightest. But sometimes it doesn’t matter when our brain and body react to triggers from the past, which actually makes it pretty unfair for others in our lives.
The subconscious can be a bitch, there’s no doubt about that.
Hudson’s expression turns somber, and I have no clue what he’s thinking. But the way he studies me makes me wonder if he can read my feelings to a T.
Shaking his head, he rakes one of his hands through his hair. “No! I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“I know.” We’re staring at each other, and I realize I’m already trying to figure this guy out, not sure how to feel about him. So far, he doesn’t seem like a jerk. And to be honest, I would expect a lot of people of his status to be—even though they shouldn't be—but there are bratty people everywhere.
My gut seems to think he’s a nice guy though, so I’ll just go with that for now. It’s a sobering thought since I haven’t exactly been thinking about guys in any capacity in almost a year. My brain cells return from whatever planet they disappeared to, and I’m glad I can stop staring at him like an idiot now. “You didn’t deserve that. It just hit a nerve, I guess.”
His eyebrows draw together so much they almost touch, and I hate knowing I’m the reason for that frown. I usually consider myself a pretty friendly and easygoing person, contrary to how I just acted in front of this famous stranger. Embarrassment at this whole situation rushes through me, and I avert my gaze.
The sudden wail coming from Mira makes me feel crappy for a whole other reason. During this short exchange with Hudson, I forgot everything around me. I just met this man, and he’s already invading my senses. We both look over as Mira complains about her bottle that fell off the highchair.
Hudson holds up his right hand. “I’ll get it.”
“Thank you.”
I watch him as he picks it up from the big mat we put underneath the highchair and hands it back to Mira. She looks at him for a moment before going back to happily drinking her water while also using the spout as a teething toy. Apparently, watching Hudson and me while also playing with her bottle is entertaining enough for her right now.
Hudson stays close to her this time, probably in case she needs help again, but turns in my direction. “I was going to say I probably could have worded it better—actually, there’s no probably about that. What I should’ve said is I could use your help for something too. But only if you’re up for it.”
Without a doubt, this sounds miles better. It doesn’t make my body jump straight into panic mode, and makes me feel more like an equal, maybe even a friend instead of a subordinate. Since I promised myself to never feel like that again, it’s indispensable.
When I respond this time, I manage to keep my tone light and friendly. “Well, it depends on what it is.” The corners of my mouth lift into a small smile before I realize it, and I’m surprised at how I’m once more back to feeling at ease with him.
Maybe it’s not such a big surprise, after all though, considering I felt the same way with Hannah too. It may very well be a family trait.
“Let’s hear it.” My curiosity has taken over, and I’m blatantly staring at him now, the mix in front of me completely forgotten.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, almost as if he wants to give me a chance to openly study him first. His features are all dark—from the dark hair on top of his head that’s pushed back carelessly after his shower, to his brown eyes that feel like they can burn a hole in my body with a look alone—or at the very least, set me on fire—down to the chiseled jaw that’s all sharp angles and covered in a light dusting of dark hair. He looks like the epitome of rugged and manly, making me groan inwardly.
Of course, after swearing off men until Mira is at least a teenager, I end up with one of the sexiest roommates alive.
Heck, he probably was voted “Sexiest Man Alive” at some point.
Without a doubt, women around the world—and probably plenty of men too—have been drooling all over him during the lifetime of his career.
I snort at the thought, pretty sure Monica, who’s obsessed with all things celebrities, would jump on the next airplane to California if she knew what was going on here.
“What are you thinking about?” With a hint of a smile, Hudson’s smooth voice interrupts my thoughts about my best friend, making me aware I’m still staring at him.
Great. I’ve officially moved into awkward territory, and he probably thinks I’m going to turn out to be just another groupie.
“Nothing really.” Clearing my throat, I tell my mind and body to stop ogling him. It seems like I’ve lost control over both the second this man walked into the house. It’s not like I haven’t seen a gorgeous man before.
And let’s face it. At the end of the day, they all poop, right? Yes. Yes! There you go. He poops like everyone else, problem solved.
Hudson smirks, like he knows exactly what’s going on behind my probably flour-coated forehead. “Well, I was hoping you’d agree to spending some time with me.” He leans casually against the table, folding his arms across his chest.
Losing my inner battle, my eyes flicker momentarily to his bulging biceps before I tear my gaze back to his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s doing this on purpose to taunt me.
Actually, I don’t know better. Mmm.
His words finally register, and I stare at him in disbelief. “What?” Before I know what I’m doing, I shake my head, almost violently. “Sorry, Hudson, but I don’t date. Don’t worry though, it’s no big deal. I can get the bakery ready by myself, like I’ve been planning on anyway. That’s why I gave myself several months to get it ready for the grand opening, so I wouldn’t run into any problems.”
Just thinking about going on a date with this man sen
ds my body into a frenzy, and I’m sure the slight panic is visible on my face.
Mira chooses that moment to fling her water bottle to the floor again, and I’m pretty sure she’s done this time. After washing my hands in the sink, I get a washcloth ready to wipe her off.
Hudson clears his throat and presses his lips together. “As much as I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you, that’s not exactly what I meant.”
Oh my goodness.
Mortification rushes through me, and I bow my head as the familiar heat rushes into my cheeks. Please, oh please, please, please, where is that hole in the ground to help you escape when you really need it?
Embarrassment about my wrong assumption battles with the slight annoyance of wondering if he did this on purpose, or if he just naturally likes to talk in riddles.
“Well, could you please tell me what exactly you meant then?” My voice squeaks a little at the end, and I hate to admit he’s already getting to me. I’ve known him for less than a day, and he’s already gotten a rise out of me—not to mention the drooling I’ve already done over him too.
But that’s beside the point, because I’ll continue to pretend that never happened.
“I want you to spend a little bit of time with me every day—if possible, just the two of us.” There’s no trace of a smile on his face. Nothing that would hint at him joking or making fun of me.
I’m all but ready to huff and puff. “Let me get this straight. You want to hang out with me as your condition, but you don’t want to date. What exactly would we be doing then? And does it really have to be every day?”
Either something I just said was unintentionally funny or my facial expressions must be amusing enough to make him burst into laughter.
After a few moments, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly to stop his outburst. “Oh, Charlie, you’re really something. I know what I’m about to say might sound a little strange, but let’s just say that I think you’re my muse.”
“Your what? Muse?” My eyebrows shoot up, and I’m not sure I heard him correctly. I’m more than a little confused though because all my brain can come up with are artists’ muses, the naked ones we’ve all heard about before.
I’m definitely not going to do that.
Nope. No. No way, Jose.
“Yes. Apparently, my brain finds you very...uh...stimulating.” He says the last word casually, like it doesn’t hold a highly suggestive double meaning that my brain catches right away. “Coming back to the whole dating thing, though. I’d love to take you out sometime. Are you sure I can’t convince you?”
His grin is so beautiful with a hint of a mischievous glint that I can almost hear my heart go pitter-patter.
Without a doubt, I’m one hundred percent sure this man is trouble.
So. Much. Trouble.
I ignore him for a moment while finally taking care of Mirabelle, who’s been getting more impatient by the second.
After cleaning her up, as well as the mess she made with Hudson, I pick her up under her pudgy little arms. She gives me the biggest smile and presses her face into mine. “Hi, sweetie. Do you want to play a little?”
Her answer is a loud, excited squeal followed by a round of clapping, making both Hudson and me laugh. I walk over to the playard with her. When I’m about to put her down, she suddenly tries to reach behind me. I turn around to see what she wants and almost bump into Hudson. I didn’t hear him walk over to us, but now I’m pretty sure I know exactly what—or rather, who—Mirabelle is trying to reach.
This little stinker is already smitten with the rockstar.
“Mira, should we go play with your toys?” Hudson’s voice has turned soft and soothing as the two of them stare at each other. I haven’t dated since Mira was born and Sebastian and I split up, so I’ve never been confronted with the sheer power of an attractive man combined with a baby.
Somebody, please have mercy, because I’m not sure my ovaries can take this any longer.
“Of course, only if it’s okay with your mommy.” His brown eyes bore into mine, and I’m uncertain I can form a cohesive sentence right now.
Luckily Mirabelle wants his attention again, and he breaks our eye contact. Taking a deep breath, I try to find my dignity and look for some self-control along the way too. It seems like I lost both the second Mr. Abs-and-Dimples popped into the kitchen this morning.
Brain to body, no more googly eyes for the rockstar.
“So, what do you say, Charlie?” It doesn’t escape my notice that Hudson keeps pushing the matter, and somehow, I have no doubt he usually gets what he wants.
“Yes.” My voice is shaky, and I can’t positively say I know what I just agreed to.
“Yes?” He turns my answer into a question, and I’m stunned that he seems surprised. Maybe I’m not that easy after all.
After clearing my throat, I try again. “Yes to playing with Mira, and yes to the muse meetings.” My voice is firm this time, and I feel a little proud of myself for sounding confident and strong instead of weak and insecure.
Look at that, Mr. Rockstar. No starstruck fan here.
I decide then and there this will be my new mantra. I have a feeling I’m going to repeat it a lot over the next few weeks, but he’s just a normal guy after all—a normal guy who poops.
The corners of his mouth lift into a triumphant smile. “Really? Okay then. Great.”
Pop. And there are the dimples.
Dang it.
New rule: no more looking at Hudson’s cheeks. These dimples are hazardous for my sanity.
“Great. I’m glad we got that settled.” I’m not really glad, and I think he knows that.
My stomach is filled with nerves, but I just couldn’t handle his extreme gaze anymore.
Let’s face it, listening to him talk to Mira in that gentle way might have turned me into putty a little bit too. Ironically, she looks just as happy as Hudson, giving me a huge grin, which I automatically return. There’s no way I cannot smile back at this girl.
“Beautiful momma you got there.” Hudson leans closer to us, so he can stage whisper to Mira. “Maybe you can help me convince her to go on a date with me sometime. What do you think, cutie pie, are you in?” He winks, and naturally, Mirabelle giggles happily in response.
Even though I shake my head, I’m unable to keep the smile off my face.
Hudson holds out his hands to Mirabelle and she moves over to him easily. Our arms and hands touch in the process, making my skin tingle everywhere. I hurry to get away from all this walking temptation and back into the kitchen, happy to be back in what I consider my safe place. At least the cupcakes won’t test my willpower like a certain rockstar already does, even though I have no one to blame but myself.
What on earth did I just agree to?
Chapter Five
Daydreaming about my bakery has been one of my favorite pastimes ever since I was a young teenager. It also helped me through the sometimes grueling study sessions and exams involved with my business degree over the years, the degree I knew would be the most useful, albeit the most boring one. There is no doubt it’s saved me, though, especially during this last year.
Being able to stand in my very own bakery now—even if it’s still mostly naked and dirty—I can clearly imagine how it will look once it’s done, and it’s one of the best feelings. Just the thought of the glass cases filled with delicious-smelling pastries and cakes, and the front area buzzing with people eating my food, is so overwhelming sometimes I’m ready to explode from excitement.
“Charlie, where do you want me next?” Hudson’s voice sounds from behind me, making me jump.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise at the sound of his rich voice—the deep timbre almost echoing across the room—as I spin around to face him. “Gosh, Hudson, can you please stop sneaking up on me like that?”
I slap his shoulder lightly, leaving a nice flour mark on his black T-shirt.
Good. Serves him right.
T
oday is our second day together at “work,” and I still have to get used to him being around. Thankfully, I barely saw him yesterday, since he was helping one of the contractors fix a few things outside the building while I hid in my office, hunched over a pile of papers to make sure everything’s going according to plan. I wonder if Hudson stayed away from me on purpose, giving me some time to get used to him. I’m almost certain he knows how easily some people get overwhelmed by his presence.
He grimaces, but the mischief is clearly displayed in the way his eyes sparkle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, but you were so absorbed in your work. There could be a meteor coming your way, and you wouldn’t know it until it hit you.”
Well, he’s got me there. When I focus on something, it’s easy for me to zone out. “Very funny.”
I glare at him playfully and study him for a moment, taking him in, from his black T-shirt all the way to his dark gray jeans that are paired with black boots. His whole outfit is covered in dust, dirt, and a few specks of paint. He looks every bit the busy worker bee he’s been, and since I’m not blind—and my hormones practically demand it—I have to admit, he couldn’t look sexier.
Somehow, I have a feeling this man could be covered in mud and still wreak havoc with women’s baby-making machines. “You don’t have to do anything else today. Seriously. You’ve already done so much these last couple days, I feel bad enough as it is.”
Shaking his head with what looks like determination, he brushes his hands off on his thighs. “Don’t even mention it, it’s nothing. And just between the two of us, it actually feels good to be active and helpful like this. Don’t get me wrong, I love my music stuff, but it’s different. This is a nice change for me, and it feels good to put my hands to use.”
He looks genuine, and I’m surprised by his statement. He raises one eyebrow and tries to peek around me at the counter. “What are you still up to? Maybe I can help you with something?”
Baking With A Rockstar (A Brooksville Novel Book 1) Page 4
