Page 154 of Cherish

“Illuminating.”

He lifts a brow. “That’s an interesting answer. Care to elaborate?”

“Actually, I do.” But before I can say anything else, the alarm I set on my phone goes off. I sigh. “Later. We’ve got five minutes to get to the veranda. Something tells me the Curator doesn’t tolerate lateness.”

I grab Hudson’s hand, start to tug him toward the door.

He doesn’t budge.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I think that’s supposed to be my line.” His eyes search mine. “What do you want to talk about?”

I start to tell him that it’s nothing, but that’s not true. And Hudson and I don’t lie to each other, even about the small stuff. I spent too much time lying to myself—and therefore to him—at the beginning of our relationship, and it did nothing but hurt both of us. I don’t ever want to hurt him like that again.

So instead, I say, “Nothing that can’t wait until later.”

Now both brows go up. “You sure?”

And just that little check somehow makes me feel better. “I’m sure,” I answer. “Now, let’s go before she turns one of us into a frog.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Hudson says as we head into the hallway.

“You don’t know that. She’s a god. What if she turns one of us into a shape-shifting frog?”

“I don’t think there are shape-shifting frogs,” he answers with an amused grin.

I roll my eyes and repeat, “You don’t know that.”

“Pretty sure I do. I’ve been alive for two hundred years and have never run into one.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” I tell him. And yes, I’m aware I’m being ridiculous. But if we don’t have time to talk about what I really want to talk about right now, then I’d rather bring up something ridiculous. It beats having a normal conversation where Hudson tries a new conversational tack every ten seconds in an effort to figure out what I’m really upset about. I know my mate well.

“That neither one of us is a frog?” he asks, both brows still raised. “Yeah, I have to admit I think that’s a good thing.”

“You don’t know. You might like a girl who can catch flies with her tongue.” I stick my tongue out superfast to demonstrate.

Hudson’s brow furrows. “Did you hit your head while you were in the garden?”

“Everyone’s a critic,” I complain as I start down the stairs with him right behind me.

“Not a critic. Just wanting to go on record as saying I like you—and your tongue—exactly the way they are.”

“Now, that’s a conversation you don’t walk into every day,” Heather quips as she follows us down. “Are you feeling insecure about your tongue, Grace? Or just something that you do with it?”

“I guess we know what you two have been up to,” Eden says as she joins our line on the stairsandour conversation. “That’s definitely one way to while away a few hours.”

“Laundry,” I tell her as my cheeks go pink. “We’ve been doing laundry.”

“So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.” Macy grins as she joins in the fun.

I make a face at Hudson. “Do you see what you’ve done?”

“What I’ve done? You’re the one who thinks one of us could be a frog shifter.” He mock shudders at the thought. Although, to be honest, I’m not sure how mock the shudder actually is.

Eden cracks up. “I don’t even want to know how that conversation started.”

“I think I’m too young to know how it started,” Heather adds, making a show of clapping her hands over her ears.

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