Page 43 of While We Waited

“And distribute it all over the East Coast.”

“I can’t believe people in New York City and Miami are drinking our beer, but they are.”

“It’s good beer.”

I clutch my chest. “Did Mr. Grouchypants give me a compliment? The shock!” I dissolve into giggles at my own joke.

“We’re here,” Hudson announces as he turns into a driveway. He continues driving until we reach a chalet in the woods. It reminds me of the other chalets at the resort. One chalet in particular comes to mind. My body warms as I’m reminded of all the dirty things Hudson did to me there.

Hudson parks the truck and I grasp the handle.

“No,” he barks.

“No, what? You want me to wait in the truck? I can wait in the truck.” I dig out my phone. “I need to call my girls and tell them I won’t be in to work today anyway.”

“You’re not waiting in the truck.”

“Maybe I should rename you Mr. Confusing. You tell me to wait in the truck and then complain I can’t wait in the truck. Confusing.”

“I didn’t tell you to wait in the truck. I want to open your door for you.”

“Oh.”

Hudson reaches over to shut my mouth. “Gentlemen open doors for women.”

I scan the area. “Where’s this gentleman you speak of?”

His lips tip up in a near smile.

“You smiled! I win!”

He shakes his head before exiting the vehicle. I watch as he rounds the front to get to my door. I could watch Hudson walk all day. There’s a reason the man was voted sexiest NFL player three years in a row.

He opens the door and I reach for his hand. But he doesn’t accept it. He lifts me into his arms and carries me to the front door of his chalet.

“I’d protest I can walk but being carried is too nice. Lead me into your home, peasant man!”

He unlocks the door with a flip of his wrist and sets me on my feet in the foyer. I glance around the room.

“Holy mermaids swimming in the sea! This place is awesome.”

I may be prone to exaggeration but not this time. The chalet is similar to the one we spent the night in but it’s at least twice the size. It’s an open concept and it is huge. The wraparound sofa in the living area probably seats twenty. Ten if they’re Hudson-sized.

In the middle of the open area is a table for ten. Next to the table is the kitchen. The kitchen countertops stretch to the opposite end of the chalet. I hurry to the glass doors there.

“There’s no pool.”

If I sound disappointed, it’s because I am. I seriously love pools.

“I love to swim. Someday I’m going to earn enough to have a pool installed in my back yard.”

“We live on an island. You can swim in the ocean.”

I rear back. “Swim in the ocean? No way. Sand gets everywhere and the salt dries out your skin. Give me a pool any day. I love the smell of chlorine in the morning.”

“You’re a nutcase.”

I bow. “Thank you. My mission here is complete. Speaking of complete, why are you still here? Why aren’t you handling whatever it is you urgently need to handle so I can get home?”

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