Page 58

Bridget assured him that she understood.

They spent a few more minutes discussing the possibilities, keeping everything explicitly preliminary. Oliver promised to send information about the proposed compensation and promotional expectations so we could consider it without pressure.

When the call ended, I sat looking at the dark phone screen.

I was thrilled.

I’d spent years working toward the kind of recognition Bridget had just described. The possibility of becoming part of a featured narration team was enormously exciting.

But Hudson hadn’t sounded excited by the same things I was.

I turned toward him.

“That’s quite an offer. I’m not sure I’ve completely taken it in yet.”

“Sounds like it could be a hell of an opportunity for you.” Hudson reached across the console and took my hand. “You deserve it, Peyton. Bridget wouldn’t be talking about a bigger contract if she didn’t think you were good at what you do.”

My pleasure in hearing that from him was almost as great as my excitement over the proposal.

“I’ve wanted something like this for years,” I admitted. “A project that really gets people talking, perhaps a continuing series with a partner I enjoy working with. I know we haven’t even finished this book yet, but it’s difficult not to imagine what could come next.”

“I understand. I like the idea of working together again too.” He paused, choosing his words. “I just can’t see myself doing the public part of it. I’m not looking to become a full-time narrator or have people recognizing me because somebody put my face on a poster.”

“I know. You were very clear about that on Thursday, and you made yourself clear again just now.”

He gave my fingers a squeeze.

“I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“Not with you.” I looked down at our joined hands, then back at him. “I’d be disappointed if the public promotion were the only way Folio wanted to work with us again, because I think we’d be wonderful together. But I wouldn’t expect you to give up the life you enjoy because I’ve suddenly been offered something exciting.”

Hudson’s expression softened.

“Thanks, honey. I appreciate that.”

I leaned across the console and kissed him.

When I eased back, he smiled and glanced toward the back seat, where the bag of scones was waiting.

“Still want to come over tonight? I’ve got a couple of pork chops in the fridge, and I was hoping I could persuade you to help me make dinner.”

I smiled.

“Are you offering to cook for me again? You’re setting an awfully dangerous precedent.”

“I’m offering to cook with you. There’s a difference. I don’t intend to do all the work while you stand around admiring me.”

“How demanding. First you insist I pronounce an enchanted tree’s name correctly, and now you’re making me earn my dinner.”

He laughed and started the truck.

Neither of us needed to decide our entire professional future on a Saturday afternoon.

For now, I wanted to spend the evening with him.

We stopped briefly at my cottage so I could collect my overnight things. I packed a small bag with pajamas, toiletries, clean underwear, and clothes for Sunday, tucked my glasses case into an outside pocket, and made sure I had my keys and phone.

Hudson waited in the living room while I finished, examining the three books I’d bought at Esther’s on Friday.