Page 17

“What about you? Did you have time to relax? Enjoy the evening?” He turns his body to face me as he pockets his hands in his trousers, looking at me intensely like my answer matters to him.
“It was great. It’s always nice to get together like this. But…”
“But what?” he prompts me to continue, frowning.
“But Rochelle forgot to drop off my favorite chocolate cookies that I had ordered for the dessert table, and now I’m craving them,” I say with a broad smile, even though I feel a little lightheaded. My stomach is empty, as I didn’t have time to eat today at all with all the preparations for tonight taking priority. I’m so hungry I could eat for days.
“Hmmm… I’m starting to think you have a bit of a sweet tooth?” he says cheekily.
“Guilty as charged. Life is too short not to enjoy allthe things that bring us joy,” I tell him, knowing he understands.
He watches me for a moment, a look of awe on his face. “You are such a breath of fresh air, you know that?”
“Is that a good or a bad thing?” I ask, laughing, hoping for the former.
“Good. Definitely good,” he says, stepping back to my side, and we continue looking up. “What’s that one?” He points upward.
“That’s Betelgeuse, it has a red color to it.” I don’t know what it is about Hudson, but I feel nervous every time he’s around me. I don’t have that with any of my bosses, other friends, or any previous doctors that we have seen. Although none of them have his looks, his confidence, or his openness.
“Like the movie?” Hudson asks, and I turn to look at him and freeze. I didn’t realize how close we were. We’re mere inches apart, his body now giving me more warmth than his jacket does. My heart rate spikes, my throat becoming drier.
“Movie?” I ask, breathless and confused. He’s looking down at me, and I can feel his warm breath hit my skin. His eyes gaze into mine, and I swear my heart thuds so hard he can hear it.
“LikeBeetlejuice? The movie with the guy in the black-and-white striped suit? You know, say his name three times and he appears?”
I frown, having no idea what he is talking about, my brain suddenly misfiring and not connecting because I’m caught up in his eyes, his warmth, his scent.
“Are you telling me you have never seenBeetlejuice?” His words are low, like a hum, almost teasing me as his eyes trace over my face, taking in every inch. His eyebrows rise a little, and his lips turn up into a small smirk. He’s enjoying himself, and I realize that I am too.
“Never. I have no idea what you are talking about.” I shake my head, smiling.
“Shit, I’m older that I thought,” he murmurs, and I laugh.
“You’re not that old… maybe a little gray…” I tease. He has a small sprinkle of gray at his temple; otherwise, his hair is as black as the sky tonight.
“Hopefully, wise as well… Maybe we should go sometime?” Hudson asks, and I clear my throat before I speak.
“Go?” I ask.
“Go out together. I can take you to the movies to seeBeetlejuice. It’s a classic.” Is Hudson Hamilton, billionaire from the city, one of the country's leading doctors, asking me on a date?
“Like a date?” I ask and immediately regret it, but Hudson smiles so wide it’s almost blinding.
“Yeah, Lacy, like a date,” he confirms, and I feel his hand grab mine from where they dangle between us.
“Ohh…” I exhale, shaking my head, because the whole thing is ridiculous.
“I don’t date.” I know I need to say it, even though the words feel bitter on my tongue, and instant regret settles in my stomach. I want to go out with him. I really do.
“You don’t date?” he questions slowly, his face puzzled, a small smile still on his lips as he tries to understand what I’m saying. I take a deep breath to bring me back to my senses. I need to wrap things up here andhead home. I need to get a load of washing on, prepare Mom’s meds for tomorrow, eat a little something before collapsing into bed.
“I can’t date,” I say again, my mouth shooting off entirely on its own as I take a step away from him. It’s for the best. Nothing can happen. I shuffle a bit, wondering how he will take the rejection. Anxiety crawls up my spine, thinking about how another older man treated my denial. I want to go out with him; I know Hudson is different. The way we talk, the way we are together. It’s all different.
“You can’t date?” he clarifies, looking even more puzzled.
“No. I can’t.” I give him a small nod, glad he understands.
“Not date generally or not date me?” He tilts his head, his eyes locked on mine.