Page 98 of When Death Whispers

Jenna.

Her honey-blonde ponytail bounces as she approaches us, a too-bright smile stretching across her face like she’s auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. “Oh hey! Betty asked me to cover her shift last minute,” she chirps like she’s doing us all a favor. “Hope that’s okay!”

It would be.

If she didn’t immediately lock eyes on Hudson like she’s about to pounce, claws out, practically vibrating as she zeroes in on him.

“Oh. For fuck’s sake,” I mutter under my breath.

Hudson walks in behind me, his hair still damp from the shower we took before heading in—where we definitely didn’tjustshower. He yawns, gives her a vague nod that screamsbarely awake,and heads straight for the back to get started.

Completely unaware.

Completely Hudson.

And completely fucking adorable.

Jenna is not deterred.

“Oh mygod, Hudson,” she squeals, stepping right into his space like a heat-seeking missile, her hand finding his chest. “You lookexhausted.Long night?”

This is fine. I am fine. I am not a jealous, territorial psycho who suddenly wants to break Jenna’s fingers.

Hudson blinks, halfway through pulling on his apron. “Yeah. Barely slept.”

“Oh?” Jenna leans in, wide-eyed, with just a hint of venom in her honey-coated voice. “What were youup to?”

Hudson doesn’t answer right away. He’s still groggy. Still blinking through whatever was on his mind. If his quick glance at me means anything he was probably thinking about the same things I was. And Jenna iswaiting, her body tilted toward him, her hand casually drifting toward his arm like itaccidentallyjust needs to land there.

I don’t think. I don’t plan. I just speak.

The words fly out before I can stop them. “He was with me.”

Jenna freezes. Hudson’s head snaps toward me, a flicker of something sharp and surprised crossing his face before it melts into a smirk.

My stomach flips. Shit. Did I say that out loud?

“You were?” Jenna asks him, blinking way too much. Like her brain has to load between sentences. “With her?”

I should backtrack. I should laugh it off as a joke. But I don’t.

Because suddenly, I don’t fucking want to.

“Yes,” I say, my voice cool, steady, even if my heart is galloping like a goddamn racehorse. “And he’s still tired. So maybe don’t hang all over him?”

Hudson chokes on nothing. Jenna’s lips part, eyes wide, before theynarrow.

“Ohhh,” she hums, like she’s been handed gossip and a reason to smile all at once. “Well. Good foryou,Parker.”

And I’ve had it.

Before Jenna can bat her lashes at him again, I grab Hudson’s apron—hard—and yank him toward me. He stumbles, chest bumping into mine, eyes wide and focused entirely on me now.

And then I kiss him.

Not a peck. Not a flirty brush.

I grab a fistful of his shirt, rise onto my toes, and kiss him like I mean it. Hudson makes a sound—surprised, breathless—but it takes him exactly one heartbeat to kiss me back. His hand finds my waist, gripping hard, grounding us both like he can’t believe it’s happening. His mouth is warm, familiar, a little stunned.

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