Page 52 of Promise Me

“Gosh,” I say, leaving his bedroom door cracked so he can hear me. “You really are a grump.”

“I’m not a grump,” he defends himself. “I just like what I like. There’s a difference.”

I slip my shorts on. They are spandex underneath but loose and flowy on the outside. I change into a crop top and grab a jacket.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Hudson stands, his lips parting as if he’s going to say something, but he stops. His hands rest on his hips, and he scowls at me.

“What kind of outfit is that?”

“This?” I look down. “A comfy one?”

He looks down at his jeans and shirt. As far as I can remember, I’ve never seen him wear anything else.

“Should I change?”

“No. Let’s just stroll through town. You can tell me what I missed.”

He studies me for a moment and then nods.

We lock up, cross through the bar, and step out onto Main Street.

“Which way should we go?” I ask.

“Left,” he says and starts walking.

The door to the space between his bar and my bakery opens, and Mrs. Whittaker steps out.

“Oh, damn. I don’t have time for you two right now.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Whittaker. How are you?” I ask, and she freezes.

Her gaze snaps to Hudson.

He shrugs.

Her focus returns to me with a sigh. “I heard about what happened. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Thank you. It’s been a crazy few days, but Hudson is helping me, so all is well.”

“Hudson is what?” she asks. She even takes a step forward and turns her head to the side as if she needs to hear me better.

“He’s helping me.”

Her bottom lip drops as she looks at us as if she just saw a ghost.

“Well, we are on a stroll, so we can chat later,” Hudson chimes in. He leads me around her.

I peek over my shoulder; she hasn’t moved.

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“She’s fine, but I have a feeling we’re going to see a lot of that while we’re out and about.”

And he’s not wrong.

We pause in front of a dance studio, which, last I remember, was a pottery store. Hudson tells me about the woman who opened it and how it’s been a hit with the guests of Lovers Lodge. Then we stop in front of Mrs. Simmer’s coffee hut. It turns out that, last year, Mr. Simmer gave coffee away free for a whole day, and she locked him out of their house for two nights.

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