Page 109 of Roughing It

“You wouldn’t be trying to distract me, right?” His breath against my skin has me inching my hips forward and craning my neck to give him better access.

The softness of plush lips, the tickle of long lashes, the barest scrape of a beard. Hudson’s journeying mouth turns my words into a moan. “Distract you? F-from what?”

And there’s the record scratch moment. In a move that totally kills my growing lady boner, he drops me on the swing—anoofslipping through my lips—and says, “From talking about what happened yesterday. And the day before.”

The pout is on my face before I can school my features. I promised him, but also, ugh. Hudson’s concern and desire to help however he can—even just by listening—shine through in everything he does and says. He’s a fixer. It’s his nature. And the universe knows I could use some fixing.

Sighing, I say, “Let me post real quick, then we can talk.”

“Livestream?”

“No. Not today. I’m posting a selfie. With you.”

He snorts.

“Aww, come on, Bear! You’ve been handling things like a pro lately. Surely you can survive one tiny little selfie?” I give him my best puppy eyes and quivery lip.

Hudson huffs, and I have him. With a grin, I make with the grabby hands, and he squishes in next to me.

I angle the phone, making sure we’re both in the frame, along with my coffee mug. Then I snap a handful of pictures. In a quarter of the time I normally spend, I delete the meh ones and select my favorites.

My heartbeat skips, and warmth unfurls inside me, spreading. It’s akin to a wonderful post-sex glow, a happy, satisfied tingle. All because in every single picture, Hudson is staring at me. He never once looks at the camera.

“I like this one.”

“What do you like about it?”

He nuzzles his nose in my hair. “You. You look happy.”

I snare Hudson’s lips with mine. If he was anyone else, I might think he was feeding me a line, but that isn’t his nature. If he says it, he means it. And damn. He’s right.

Yeah, my mom’s a walking trash can. My life away from this cabin is pathetically lonely. I have no idea how I’ll leave here in nine days.

“I am happy. Happier than I’ve been in a really, really long time.”Or ever.I grin. “My handsome boyfriend posed in a selfie with me and let me post it. It’s a blue-ribbon day.”

“Twice.”

“Huh?”

“That’s twice now.”

My eyebrows crinkle. “Is this some sort of riddle?”

“You called me your boyfriend.” My mouth goes dry. I try to figure out how to smooth my faux pas over, but then Hudson settles his chin on my shoulder. “Good.”

With that word, the butterflies that have taken up permanent residency in my stomach squash any nerves as they take flight.

“Whatelse do you need to do to the picture so we can talk?”

I fiddle with the settings, tag The Bee and The Bean, and post. No sooner than it goes up do the first reactions trickle in.

Hudson snatches the phone from my hand, his green eyes darkening as he reads the rapidly mounting comments.

“Typical. He’s looking at her and she’s looking at herself.”

“Could she be more vapid?”

“Poor guy doesn’t have a clue.”

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