I blinked. “What?”
“It’s brilliant, Mari. You’ve created something that bridges the technical and emotional aspects of wedding planning in a way I’ve never seen before.”
“Really?” I couldn’t keep the surprised hope out of my voice. “You think it could work?”
“I think it could revolutionize the industry.” He gestured to the screen. “Have you considered adding a vendor compatibility feature here? Something that matches vendors not just by availability and price, but by how well they align with the couple’s vision?”
“That’s...” I stared at him, shocked at how quickly he’d not only grasped but expanded on my concept. “That’s actually a great idea.”
I grabbed my notebook and jotted down his suggestion. “I was also thinking about incorporating a stress management component, maybe tracking pressure points in the timeline and suggesting interventions.”
“Perfect.” He nodded enthusiastically. “And what about integration with virtual reality for venue tours? That’s becoming more common for destination weddings.”
For the next hour, we bounced ideas back and forth. It was exhilarating to have someone who not only understood my vision but could enhance it.
I noticed something odd, though. Now and then, Hudson would get a strange look on his face, like he was about to say something but then thought better of it. And sometimes he seemed to know what I was going to say before I said it, nodding along almost preemptively. But maybe I was imagining things. I was, after all, running on approximately four hours of sleep and enough caffeine to power a small city.
He glanced at my app designs again. “What you’ve created here… this is special, Mari. You should be proud.”
A warm flush spread through me at his praise. I’d spent so long seeing Hudson as my nemesis that I’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone genuinely appreciate my work.
“You’re the only person who’s seen the full concept,” I admitted, suddenly feeling exposed.
“No one else? Not even Anica?”
I shook my head. “She probably knows I’m working on something, but not the details. I wanted to get it right before I showed it to anyone.”
“Thank you for trusting me with it.”
And there it was. The reason I’d shown him. Trust. Somewhere between fighting over cake flavors and making s’mores by the fire, I really had begun to trust Hudson Gable. Not just with wedding details or client meetings, but with something that mattered to me. Something personal.
I hadn’t trusted anyone like this in years. Not since Anica.
Hudson and I huddled close over the tablet, shoulders touching as we scrolled through the designs.
“What about this section?” he asked, leaning in even closer to tap a part of the wireframe. “The timeline could be enhanced with?—”
I turned my head to see what he was pointing at. His face was inches from mine. We both froze, our eyes locking. The flecks of amber in his green irises sparkled.
Oh no,thought the rational part of my brain.Don’t you dare.
Shut up,replied the rest of me.Just shut all the way up.
I wasn’t sure who had moved first. Maybe we both did. But suddenly his lips were on mine. Hudson and I kissed in our shared office at 10 PM on a Saturday, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
He tasted of the mint he’d had after dinner, his lips warm and soft against mine. When his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened without hesitation, a small sound escaping my throat as the kiss deepened.
Hudson responded to that sound by gripping my waist and lifting me onto my desk, stepping between my legs as papers scattered to the floor. I couldn’t bring myself to care about the mess. Not when his hands slid up my thighs, bunching my skirt, not when his mouth trailed fire down my neck.
“Mari,” he murmured against my skin, and my name had never sounded so good.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him closer, my hands fumbling with his tie. Why did the man always wear such complicated knots? It was like trying to solve a puzzle while my brain was short-circuiting from the way his teeth grazed my collarbone.
His phone rang, buzzing from his pocket. We both ignored it.
It stopped, then started again immediately.
“Ignore it,” I whispered against his mouth, finally loosening his tie.
