Page 30 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

“Soooo.” I glance around the lobby. “One month until the reopening, huh? Not a lot of time.”

Worst segue ever.

“Yeah, we should probably get to work,” Hudson says. “The office is this way.” He starts off down a hallway—all broad shoulders and long strides—leaving a wake of his woodsy scent behind him. As I follow, I keep reminding myself this good-smelling man is my boss.

Also, he totally rejected you two years ago.

Also, you’re not interested, remember?

Midway down the hall, he stops and throws open an unmarked door. “Welcome to paradise,” he says.

I can’t tell if he’s being serious or sarcastic, but when we enter, a laugh slips out of me. This office is the total opposite of Francine’s, which was enormous, sleek and modern. In this room, two blocky desks take up the bulk of the space. There’s only a few feet between them. Two trash cans. Identical computers. Matching rolling chairs. The two setups are almost the same, except one of the desks faces a large window looking out at the grass and trees on the back property.

“That one must be yours,” I say, inclining my head toward the desk with a view.

“Nope.” Hudson moves to the chair, and slides it out. “Ladies first.”

“Seriously?”

“You’re only going to be here a month. I figured you should have the better seating situation. I can switch to that desk after you’re gone.”

A twinge of something hits my stomach. Maybe it’s his unexpected generosity. Maybe it’s realizing he’s already preparing for my exit.

Or maybe it’s the thought of actually leaving. And the fact that I have nowhere else to go.

Hudson waits for me to sit before taking his spot at the other desk.

“Fresh coffee and the desk with a view?” I quirk my brow. “You know you’re not going to talk me into staying longer just by being nice to me.”

“I can’t afford to keep you here longer, even if I wanted to.” His lip curves up. “I just happen to be nice without any ulterior motive.”

“Well … maybe turn down the niceness anyway.” I lift a brow. “I’m used to a slightly more … exacting boss.”

“Oh, I can be exacting.” He arranges his face into a stony mask of seriousness. “I’ll exact the joy right out of you.”

“Wow.” Laughter bursts out of me. “How about somewhere between pushover and tyrant?”

“All right.” He tips his head. “What’s on your agenda for this week, Olivia?”

“Better.” I school my expression back into work mode. “I figured I’d start by checking out the old Beachfront website. I’ll want to revamp that first, then update whatever email system you’ve been using. After that, I can start up new accounts on all the relevant platforms. Instagram. TikTok. Pinterest. Facebook. LinkedIn.”

“Hmmm.”

I glance up, and Hudson’s face is scrunched up in a frown.

“What?” I tilt my head. “Did I miss one?”

He shakes his head. “I have absolutely no idea.”

“Uh-oh.” He really is in the dark about this stuff. “One month might not be enough time for me to teach you what you don’t know.”

“Eternity might not be enough time.” He hitches his shoulders. “But two desks is too many to be crammed into this office. So you’ll just have to get me far enough along that a freelancer could supplement my inevitably subpar marketing skills after you leave.”

I glance around the close space, realizing I can smell Hudson’s deliciousness from my chair. The man is making me laugh. He’s got me smelling him.

This could be dangerous if it goes on too long.

“You’re totally right,” I say. “One month is plenty.”

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