Hudson cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing on me. “That so?”
“Mhmm,” I said, false chipperness in my voice. “So sorry about that, but I won’t be able to?—”
“Cut the shit, Kenna.”
“Excuse me?”
“I already know you’re off this weekend. A little birdie told me.”
A little birdie named Willow Grace Haven, my no-good, rotten sister who was now dead to me.
“Oh, well, I…” I racked my brain, trying to come up with a plausible solution. Something other than telling him,Sorry, but you scare the living daylights out of me, and I’m too much of a chicken to spend uninterrupted time with you.“I have to fill in for someone.”
“No, you don’t.” He stalked to my desk, braced his hands on the top, and leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart. “Admit it—you’re scared.”
I gaped at him, my mouth dropping open on an offended huff. “I am not.”
“No? Then come. If you’re not scared and you don’t have to work, why not?”
“Because I…have a lot of things to do around the house.”
He stared at me, his assessing gaze never straying from mine. Then, quietly, he said, “Don’t tell me I have to make a bet with you to get your ass out there.”
I snorted. “Are you new here? Who says you’dwinsaid bet? For all you know, you might be spendin’ your weekend cleanin’ out my gutters.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Can I assume if you’ve already got your terms decided, you’re in?”
Of course, I was in. When was I everout? But instead of telling him that, I said, “Only if I can decide on the challenge.”
“Done,” he said without hesitation.
I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes, my brain working overtime to come up with something impossible for him to do. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go with him—it was that Idid. And that scared the ever-loving hell out of me. Better to steer clear of him for a while, for my sanity’s sake.
Suddenly, inspiration struck, and I shot him a smug smile. “All right, hotshot, let’s see who can get Grumpy Gleaves to grin first.”
Gleaves Philander was approximately 270 years old and had been the town grump for as long as I could remember. Every day, he sat outside the barbershop, scowl firmly in place, as he scrutinized the passersby and mumbled under his breath about them.
Fortunately for me, Gleaves seemed to have a soft spot for me. It’d started when I’d given him an extra muffin I’d gotten from The Sweet Spot one morning during one of my ride alongs with Edna. Baked goods bought friendship with the grump, apparently. And I wasn’t above exploiting that friendship in the name of winning this bet to keep my heart safe.
“Fine,” he said. “But just so we’re clear, when I win, I get you for the weekend up on Havenbrook Ridge.”
“Ifyou win, I think you mean.”
“No, Kenna.” He leaned even closer to me until I felt the warm gust of his breath against my lips. “When.”
Heaven help me, I wanted to lean forward and press my mouth to his. Wanted to slip my tongue inside just to remind myself that, yes, hedidtaste as good as he smelled. Andshit, he smelled good. Fresh and crisp and manly.
Thank God this was going to be an easy win for me, because I had no idea what I’d do if I were forced into close proximity with Hudson for two days with nowhere to go and a single tent to sleep in.
Fifteen minutes later, I watched in stunned silence while Hudson and Grumpy Gleaves laughed and joked like they were old chums. In the couple years I’d been slipping him extra muffins, I’d barely caught a twitch of his lips, and now look at him. Who even knew the man had teeth?
If I didn’t know better, I’d think Hudson had played me. Except I’d been the one to suggest this bet, which meant there was no possible way he could’ve orchestrated this to his benefit.
Whether he did or not was irrelevant, because the fact of the matter was I’d lost the bet. And, like it or not, my weekend plans had just been filled. I just had to make sure my heart survived the trip.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MAC
