Page 72 of Baking With A Rockstar

Coming a step closer, Hudson pulls his lower lip into his mouth, making my heartbeat go crazy.

Did it suddenly get hot in here or what? I’m close to fanning myself with my shirt.

“So...” His voice is low, melodic, and soothing, making me want to close my eyes so I can focus on it better. “Grandma just told me she and Paul are going to have a night in tomorrow.”

Confused by his statement, I take a moment to answer. “Oh, okay. Good for them.” And I mean it. I’ve met Paul enough times now to know that he’s a really nice guy. Both he and Hannah have been widowed for quite a while, and they seem to make each other very happy. What more could they want?

For some reason, he looks nervous, and I’m not exactly sure why. “Yeah. Anyway, she said she wouldn’t mind babysitting if we wanted to do something.”

Ohhhhhhh. Now we’re getting somewhere, my nerves along for the ride too. “Oh.”

He rubs the back of his neck before clearing his throat a couple times. “I’m not sure if this is weird, but would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

A fluttery feeling sets in my stomach as I nod, not even hesitating for a second.

That was easy.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Hudson. I’d love to.”

He beams at me, like I’m his fairy godmother and just granted him three wishes. Whatever works, I’ll take it. “Awesome. Can you be ready by six?”

We grin at each other while my heart speeds up wildly at the thought of having a date with him in a day. “Absolutely.”

The doorbell rings in the background and someone’s arguing, but I just can’t seem to care at the moment. All I want to do is stare at this man in front of me some more.

“Perfect.” His voice is low and raspy, making the hair on my body stand up in anticipation.

He lifts his hands to caress both of my cheeks softly before bending down to give me a tender kiss. My lips tingle with a longing for more, but I know this is neither the right time nor place for it.

Sighing heavily when the contact breaks a moment later, I’m also relieved because two seconds later, Monica and Gabe walk into the kitchen.

“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” He says it low enough so only I can hear it.

Me neither, Hudson. Me neither.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Almost two hours later,we all sit at the big table that’s filled with leftovers of the most delicious Italian food I’ve ever had.

“You seriously are the cutest thing ever.” Monica coos at Mirabelle, who’s happily sitting on her lap. “And I think you totally know it too. Good for you, girl. Own it.”

The two of them have been glued to the hip whenever Mo is around, but I’m not surprised—Mo is definitely the funny aunt type.

Needless to say, my little girl is eating up the attention everyone’s been giving her. She’s soaking it up, trying to play with everything and everyone she can possibly get her fingers on—preferably Mo’s strawberry blonde hair or Gabe’s fun shirt sleeve.

She’s alternatively playing with both while they sneak little looks at each other. After Gabe’s grumpy mood earlier, I was actually surprised he willingly sat down next to her. Having Mirabelle around seems to have softened him some, bringing him back to what I’ve come to consider his normal self.

Hudson and Gabe’s sister, Dahlia, is sitting across from them, her long, blonde-dyed hair all waves and braids. She’d be the perfect model for a hippie photo shoot. Absolutely stunning.

Pulling apart a piece of baguette in her hands, she looks up at Monica. “Gabe said you broke your thigh bone during a car accident? I hope it’s not half as bad as it sounds. What did the doctors say about your recovery? Did they tell you how long it will take to heal?”

The table is still filled with dirty dishes, but everyone seems to be engaged in conversations, not wanting to deal with the aftermath of this big meal yet. It’s been such a fun time that neither Hudson nor I have wanted to get up to clean the mess either. Thankfully, no one seems to mind.

Monica sighs, absentmindedly playing with the palm tree-looking ponytail on top of Mirabelle’s head. “They said on average it takes about three to six months to heal, sometimes longer. The fact that my bones were broken in several places makes it a lot harder to predict. Time will tell, or so I’ve been told, at least. The hardest part will probably be staying off my leg for a while, it’s already driving me absolutely crazy. And of course, it all depends on how diligently I’ll follow my physical therapist’s orders. I’m going to meet up with mine tomorrow. He came with stellar recommendations, so hopefully he’s as good as everyone says he is.”

“What’s his name?” Dahlia’s twin, Rose, leans forward now too—her dark hair such a stark contrast to her sister’s—stopping the round of peek-a-boo she was playing with Mirabelle.

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