Page 9 of Baking With A Rockstar

The corners of his mouth lift in a weak smile. The curiosity burns inside me, wondering what’s going on with him. After the way Hannah just acted, she seems to know something is up too, or at least suspects it.

His shoulders lift once before he focuses back on putting more pear pieces on Mira’s tray. “Not sure yet. Probably a few weeks, maybe a few months.”

“I see.” Hannah rubs her fingertips together, studying him openly. She’s not trying to hide her scrutiny, and I’m actually a little surprised she doesn’t ask him straight out what’s going on. Instead, she gives him a wide smile. “Actually, I’m glad you’ll be here for a while. It’s been too long since you stayed with us for more than just a few days. It’s perfect.”

Wait, what? That definitely wasn’t the reaction I expected.

His eyes narrow. “Why?” The suspicion in his voice is so evident I have to suppress the urge to chime in and ask her the same question while also high-fiving Hudson.

The wariness in my chest only grows when Hannah looks like the cat that ate the canary. “Well, I just thought you could help Charlie with the bakery.” The words come out of her mouth faster than usual, but her tone stays casual like she’s talking about the weather.

I’m in the middle of cracking eggs into my mixing bowl when I hear her drop that bomb, and manage to accidentally let some eggshells fall into the flour.

Crap. Crap. Double crap.

What the heck is she doing?

Waving my hands in front of me, I brush my hair out of my face with the back of my hand. “Oh no, Hannah. That’s not necessary. We’re already enough of an inconvenience living here, I don’t want to impose on Hudson any more than we already are. I’m sure he didn’t come back to slave away in my bakery anyway. Plus, we’re not in a time crunch either. I planned it out far enough in advance, so there wouldn’t be any issues.” I try to sound confident and convincing, but I’m not sure that’s enough for Hannah.

This woman seems to be on a mission.

My worries are confirmed when she shakes her head before I even finish my last sentence. “Nonsense. It wouldn’t hurt to be done earlier than you had planned, would it? That way, you can relax some more before the chaos starts. And I’m sure Hudson can make time for it, right?” She gives him a pointed look before getting out of her chair. “I just realized I forgot my phone in my room. You two discuss this, I’ll be right back.”

I’m pretty sure I saw her grin right before she left the room and disappeared down the hallway.

My chin drops as I stare after her. “Unbelievable.” I shouldn’t be surprised because in the time I’ve known her, I’ve learned one thing about this woman—she loves to meddle, absolutelylovesit.

I try to focus on getting the cracked eggshells out of my mix, hoping maybe Hudson and I can both just ignore the whole topic.

“Grandma is right, I really don’t mind helping.”

Well, so much for that.

Hudson walks over to me with a neutral expression on his face. After putting Mira’s empty plate and bowl in the sink, one side of his mouth lifts up and the traitorous dimple pops out. “But I have one condition.”

Chapter Four

One condition.

Hudson’s words crawl over my skin in an uneasy way, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up as a shiver rushes through me involuntarily.

Of course there has to be a condition. There always has to be something. Why can’t people do things just because they want to help, not because they want something in return? Sebastian was a master at this game, positively making me distrustful toward anyone asking for a favor, or offering help.

“Just spit it out, Hudson.” The words fly out of my mouth a bit harsher than I intended, and I grind my teeth in an effort to calm down.

I know he doesn’t deserve my anger. He hasn’t done anything mean or malicious—yet. The look on his face confirms I might have taken it a bit too far, or at the very least, confused him. He can’t possibly know why his words trigger such an abrupt change in my behavior. Instead of reciprocating my frustration, or going beyond that and slipping into anger, the look in his eyes softens. One corner of his mouth lifts up the tiniest bit as he takes a step back, holding up both of his hands as if to placate me.

Crap.

This is not how I’ve wanted to start things with him. He’s probably a second away from declaring me crazy and kicking us out of the house after all.

I let out a big breath and stumble back onto a kitchen bar stool. “I’m sorry.”

I know he isn’t like Sebastian, not even in the slightest. But sometimes it doesn’t matter when our brain and body react to triggers from the past, which actually makes it pretty unfair for others in our lives.

The subconscious can be a bitch, there’s no doubt about that.

Hudson’s expression turns somber, and I have no clue what he’s thinking. But the way he studies me makes me wonder if he can read my feelings to a T.

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