Page 8 of Baking With A Rockstar

His obvious distaste makes me laugh. “It’s just oatmeal and banana.”

He keeps eyeing the mixture suspiciously. “Huh. It doesn’t look like someone should be eating it.”

I had the exact same thought at first. “Well, that’s most baby food for you. But you’ll see, she absolutely loves it. It’s actually not half bad,” I reassure him and head back to get started on those cupcakes. I hope the coconut cupcakes with frosted coconut frosting will taste half as good as they sound, becauseyummy.

“Very yummy indeed.” The quiet murmur comes from across the room, and when I look up, Hudson’s eyes are on me.

Did I just say that out loud? What is it with me today? My gaze is still locked with Hudson’s, and there’s something in his look I can’t quite decipher. Before I can try to figure it out, though, my attention briefly flicks over to Mirabelle. The alarm bells go off in my head, my eyes going wide as I gasp.

“Watch out.” I try to warn Hudson, but it’s already too late.

For the second time in the past few hours, I break out into laughter so high it almost harmonizes with Mirabelle’s little giggles. I might even sound like a dying hyena, but I honestly couldn’t care less at this point. “You might not believe me right now, but I really am sorry.” I clutch my stomach and try to get a few more words out, gasping like I just ran a marathon. “I should’ve given you better instructions when I set her loose on you.”

After another round of laughter, I finally get a grip on myself. Wiping the corners of my eyes, I carefully open them to take in the crime scene in front of me. My restraint is tested the second I lay eyes on him again, but by some miracle, I manage to stifle my laughter this time.

Most of it, at least.

Hudson is covered in oatmeal. The brown goop is dripping off his hair and face, all the way down onto his shirt and pants. There isn’t a lot of visible space left that’s unharmed and free of the sticky goo.

He looks back and forth between Mira and me and shakes his head slowly. “You girls should come with a warning.”

“I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you that she can get quite impatient if you don’t shove food into her mouth fast enough.” I feel more than just a little bad about everything that’s happened to him today—and it isn’t even noon yet.

We might have to move to a hotel, after all. I’m sure not everyone wants to share a house with a messy pair like Mira and me. I sigh and step closer, so I can start cleaning up the mess.

“Please don’t get mad at Mira, though. She’s just a little baby.” Bile rises in my throat when I remember the way Sebastian blamed this precious little baby for everything that went wrong. I swore to myself I’d do whatever it took to shelter Mira from anything similar happening again.

Getting protective in this moment might seem a bit odd, but I’ve seen people get worked up over way less than some spilled oatmeal.

A lot of people have a sad tendency to blame others for just about anything that goes wrong.

“Hey.” Hudson touches my arm for a second to get my attention, and the unexpected contact startles me. “Of course it’s not her fault, please relax. Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s all good.” His tone is soothing and his touch gentle.

My chest deflates as I exhale loudly, and his eyes are still on me when I look up. They are such a beautiful mixture of dark honey and chocolate tones, blending together perfectly. Dark, long eyelashes surround them, and I can’t help but marvel at them for a moment.

Once I snap out of my trance, I’m relieved to see he seems genuine. If I’m honest, I don’t think Ireallyexpected him to react badly. My reaction was more of an automated reply, like I want to make sure people know what’s acceptable and what isn’tbeforeanything happens. Hudson’s presence has been nothing but relaxing from the first moment—just like it was with Hannah.

I still feel Hudson’s eyes on me, but I choose to ignore him. Instead, I make quick work of cleaning up the mess, or at least as fast as I can since cleaning up oatmeal is a total pain in the butt. Hudson wordlessly takes the extra paper towels I hand him, just as Hannah comes back downstairs.

She stops abruptly when she walks into the kitchen. “What’s going on?” When she sees us in all of our messy glory, she immediately doubles over in laughter. Pointing at me, she’s still trying to get her laughter under control. “You didn’t tell him about our little Miss Impatience, did you?”

I shake my head in chagrin, feeling heat seeping into my cheeks.

“Oops.” Hannah shrugs her shoulders and we all laugh, even Hudson.

After a quick face wash in the kitchen sink—and despite his current state of messiness—Hudson keeps feeding Mirabelle the rest of the food she didn’t manage to splatter all over him. I’m more than just a little surprised and keep shooting glances in their direction because not everyone would be in such good spirits after the morning he’s had.

No, no, no. Don’t do it.

My brain is alerting me, knowing full well that if I don’t watch out, I’ll be having hearts in my eyes before I know it. That’s the last thing I need right now. But since I’ll probably see a lot of him over the next few weeks, I might as well enjoy the scenery, right? Nothing wrong with that—not at all.

As long as it’s just looking.

Hannah sits down on the other side of the table, opposite Hudson. “How long are you planning on staying home this time?” She taps her fingernails on the table and doesn’t look at her grandson, making it pretty obvious she’s trying to act nonchalantly.

I’m sure if she can’t fool me, she can’t fool her own family either.

Hudson’s quiet for a moment and looks down at the table. When he lifts his head again, the expression on his face has changed. Gone is the carefree, happy guy I just met. In its place is someone more closed-off, with eyebrows drawn together so tightly, I’m afraid it might leave a permanent crease on his face.

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