Hudson raised a brow. “Are you tempting me into another date?”
My heart seemed to pound against my ribs as I desperately tried to figure out what to say. Had he meant to say this was a date? Wasn’t it a date, though? He’d asked me to spend the day with him and asked me to go to dinner later.
Oh God, why am I overthinking this right now? It’s clearly a date, and I’m going to enjoy every single second of it.
“Is it working?” I asked in a teasing voice.
He laughed. “Well, when you talk about chocolate honeycomb toffee, hell yes, that’s going to work.”
It was time to change the direction of this conversation.
“Do you snack on things when you write? We’ve had a few authors come into the bookstore, and when we do Q&As, some say they have weird little habits when they write. Most eat things like Swedish Fish or licorice. Have to have a Diet Coke by their side, things like that.”
“No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I don’t normally eat while I’m writing. I feel like once I get into the flow of it, I tend to write nonstop unless I need to get up and walk around or I need to use the bathroom.”
I chewed on a carrot and looked out over the falls. The way the sunbeams caught the water looked like thousands of diamonds floating along the surface. A hidden paradise just waiting for someone to come along and fall captive to its beauty. How I loved this place. I felt sad that I hadn’t taken the time to enjoy it enough in the last few years.
My mind wandered a bit more, and I suddenly blurted out, “I’ve always wanted to publish a book.”
The words were out before I could even register that I’d said them.
“Why don’t you?” he asked.
I snapped my eyes back to his questioning face and felt my cheeks heat. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
He smiled. “Why not?”
With a half shrug, I sighed. “That’s a dream I’ve never told anyone about. I’m not even sure why I said it just now. Lost in my own thoughts, I guess.”
“Maybe that’s why you safeguard it. Because it’s a dream of yours.”
“The bookstore is my dream,” I quickly corrected with a gruff laugh.
Hudson frowned. “Are you not allowed to have more than one dream?”
“Of course.”
“Then, write it.”
Heat ran up my body and burned in my cheeks. “I, um…well…” Looking back at the waterfall, I had to wonder if there really was some magical mojo coming from it because I replied, “I’ve already written it.”
Hudson looked over at me. “What? But you said you’ve always wanted to write a book.”
I glanced down at the food. “I said I’ve always wanted to publish one.”
My entire body froze when I felt his finger on my chin, drawing my gaze back up to his.
“Will you let me read it?”
I was positive my eyes were as round as saucers. “What? Read it? You want to read it?”
He smiled softly and his thumb moved ever so slightly over my skin before he dropped his hand. “I’d love to read it. What’s it about?”
“No way,” I said with a fierce shake of my head. “Not in a million years.”
“Why not?” he asked as he picked up a chocolate-covered strawberry and started to eat it.
Hudson slowly took a bite of the strawberry, licked his lips, and closed his eyes as if in pure ecstasy. It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen in my life. Hudson Higgins eating a chocolate-covered strawberry was going to make me spontaneously orgasm.
He must have noticed when I didn’t answer because he looked at me. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. “Nothing. That was…distracting.”
Jesus tap dancing Christ, why do I keep speaking before thinking?
The corners of Hudson’s mouth twitched with a smile. “What was distracting?”
My gaze fell to the half-eaten strawberry, then quickly back to his face.
This time, his dimples popped out in full display. “Why, Greer Larson, does fruit turn you on?”
“What?” I asked with a nervous giggle. “No! Don’t be ridiculous. I only meant that I’m still hungry and that strawberry looked erotic.”
His brows shot up.
“Irresistible,” I quickly said.
That made him smile even wider.
“No, wait. It was the way you were eating it that looked…” I let my voice trail off as I realized I was digging myself deeper into a hole that I wasn’t going to be able to crawl out of.
“Do you know what I find so damn attractive about you?” Hudson asked.
I swallowed again. “You find something about me attractive?”
His eyes darkened with pure desire. “I find many things about you attractive, Greer. But it’s the way you get tongue-tied and stumble on your words that makes me wonder if it’s me who makes you so flustered—or if you’re like that with everyone.”