Page 16 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

He hauls open the door, and Mrs. Johnson crosses into the lobby just a few feet in front of me. “Ahhh, there you are,” she says to someone inside. “We were all just talking about you.”

Just talking about who?

“I think you know our new manager,” Mr. Johnson says.

He ushers me to the doorway.

Just inside is Hudson Blaine.

And the whole world goes supernova.

I haven’t seen Hudson since that night at The Launch Pad, but he’s even more gorgeous than I remember. His eyes are darker. His hair is swoopier. Shoulders broader. The man is more er than ever.

“Whoa.” His brow flies up and his jaw drops.

And that’s when I trip over the threshold.

Stumbling across the hardwoods, I try to regain my balance, but end up face-planting below him.

Now I’m sprawled on the floor with my mother’s skirt at my ankles, and her panties in full view.

“Hudson,” I groan. “What a … surprise.”

“Hey, Olivia,” he chokes.

Thank goodness the Five and Dime doesn’t sell value packs of thongs.

Chapter Six

Hudson

So this is how I discover Olivia McCoy is back in Abieville. More specifically, she’s under me.

In her underwear.

When I reach down to help her up, she ignores my hand and scrambles to her feet. Then she yanks up her skirt. Why is it so big on her?

And speaking of big … Olivia is sporting the kind of full-coverage briefs I’ve only heard described as granny panties. This is not the underwear I remember her wearing at The Launch Pad. Today’s pair is roughly the size of a parachute.

Hudson, knock it off. Her parachute panties are not the point right now.

The point is Olivia McCoy is in town again. And now I’ve accidentally seen her half naked.

Twice.

I snap my gaze to hers, her round eyes blinking like two green lights at an intersection telling me to GO. At the same time, her cheeks turn stop-sign red, which pretty much sums up my conflicted feelings.

On the one hand, Olivia McCoy is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. On the other hand, she’s the kind of woman who breaks men’s hearts. What I need is a third hand to remind me I’ve sworn off all women entirely.

Olivia forces out a chuckle. “Ummm … that was mortifying.” She reaches behind her to clutch the waistband of her skirt. “I need to fix this. I think the safety pin came undone.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” I mumble, like an idiot. “The bathroom’s just down the hall.” I nod across the lobby. “And it’s completely remodeled,” I add, as if that’s what Olivia cares about right now.

Level-10 awkwardness unlocked.

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Johnson steps in. “I can help you right here, if you want.”

Olivia turns, presenting her backside to Mrs. Johnson. “Yes, please.”

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