Page 22 of Playing With Fire
Having a man show appreciation for the body I’ve worked so hard to regain and maintain after having a baby is an aphrodisiac and a much-needed ego boost. It’s heady, and if I don’t start backpedaling, I’ll be in deep shit soon.
“I like your ink,” I tell him, trying to redirect this dangerous conversation. Although, why I thought directing ittherewould be helpful, I have no idea.
“Thanks,” he says, running a hand absentmindedly across his pec as if he forgot his tattoos were there. “Do you have any?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Always wanted one, but my husband thinks they’re trashy.”
Hudson takes a step forward, and leans in. “For what it’s worth, I think one would look killer right here.” His index finger is a whisper of a touch against the skin over my ribs, but it’s enough.
The whimper that escapes between my lips is mortifying, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. My desperation to be acknowledged is far worse than I realized, and Hudson is temptation personified. He can’t possibly know that he’s giving me so much just by being kind.
Before I can do something stupid, like swan-dive into Hudson’s swim trunks, Serafina coos loudly and lunges for the man, catching me totally off guard.
Thankfully, he’s ready. Otherwise, I would have spilled her right in the sand.
“Well, hey there, gorgeous girl,” he says, bouncing her easily on his hip, looking far more comfortable with her in his arms than I am most of the time. “Are you having fun on the beach with your mom?” His attention is focused solely on Serafina right now, even knowing she obviously won’t answer.Which means his words are for me. “I’m happy to finally meet you…” he looks down at me, asking me to fill in the blank.
“Serafina,” I say, giving him my daughter’s name.
“Serafina,” he finishes, turning back to the smitten girl in his arms. “I’m Hudson. I have a niece and nephew just a little older than you, but my niece is already obsessed with babies even though she still practically is one herself.” He cuts his eyes back to mine. “We should get them together to play sometime.” He quickly adds, “Out here maybe. Neutral ground.”
“No kids of your own?” I ask, taken aback. He doesn’t wear a ring, but, “I remember you mentioned knowing how precious naptime is.”
“No kids of my own,” he confirms succinctly.
Determined to make an absolute fool of myself and get burned by the fire I’m playing with, I add, “Well, I’m still not sure your girlfriend would approve since I obviously can’t find my manners around you.”
“No girlfriend, either,” he answers with a wry smile, seeing right through my pathetically transparent statement.
“That’s shocking,” I declare out loud. I barely know the man, and even I know he’s a catch.
“I haven’t been looking. My sister lost her husband recently, and is a mother to a three and four-year-old,andshe just went back to work full-time and it’s kicking her ass. I help out where I can, but it doesn’t leave much room for a relationship of my own,” he explains.
“I’m really sorry to hear that.” Before I even process what I’m saying, words come tumbling from my lips. “I don’t work.” Hastily, I clarify, “I do want to go back some day, but right now, I’m just home every day, so if she ever needs help, I’m happy to watch them.”
What the hell did I just offer? I’m just getting acquaintedwith my own child! I have no idea what to do with someone else’s! Especially because hers walk.
“Thank you for that. I’ll pass it along. And youdowork, Shannon. Being a parent requires that you give everything you have and then some. And forgive me for overstepping, but something tells me you shoulder most of that responsibility alone.”
I give him a tight smile, neither confirming nor denying his statement. I’ve crossed enough lines for one day, I don’t need to bad mouth my husband to another man. “Gregor helps when he can,” is the answer I finally settle on.
I see something flash in Hudson’s eyes at the mention of my husband before he turns his attention back to my daughter who is burrowing in his chest with heavy eyes.
“Do I need to keep her awake or is it okay to let her sleep?” he asks.
She really needs to stay awake until we get home or I’ll pay for it later, but she looks so comfortable and content and honestly, she earned a little shut eye after the ordeal at the doctor’s office. Besides, if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not ready for this conversation to be over quite yet.
“She can sleep, but I don’t expect you to hold her for the next hour. Would you mind just carrying her back to the blanket and laying her down?”
Hudson looks up the beach and spots our stuff.
“I probably should’ve asked sooner, but is your husband here?”
“No, he’s working late again.”
Hudson shrugs casually. “Okay, well, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, I don’t mind sitting for a few and letting her sleep on me.”
And just like that, I’m jealous of my infant.
