Page 33 of Axe-Rated Lumberjack

My heart began thumping.

“What did you want to say?”

He smiled, but there was a tenderness in his expression that made my stomach flutter.

“I like working with you, Peyton. A lot. But I’m looking forward to tonight because I want to spend time with you when we’re not sitting in front of a microphone.”

I looked at him, the marked script still lying on the desk between us.

I couldn’t remember the last time a man had made me feel quite so wonderfully wanted.

“I’d like that too,” I said. “Very much.”

Hudson’s smile softened.

“Good.”

He stood, moving his chair away from the desk, and I rose to face him.

Up close, he was even more unfairly attractive. His stubble caught the late-afternoon light, and I could see the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled.

I wanted to touch him.

I’d spent nearly two days watching his hands turn script pages and imagining what it would feel like to have them on me. He was close enough now that I could ask.

I took a small step toward him.

“Hudson?”

“Yeah?”

I looked up into his green eyes.

“I’d really like to kiss you.”

His expression changed, his smile deepening as he moved a little closer.

“I’d really like that too.”

That was all the encouragement I needed.

I caught the front of his flannel shirt, rose onto my toes, and pulled him down toward me.

His mouth met mine, warm and wonderfully gentle.

For a moment, I forgot the recording equipment, the enchanted forest, and the ridiculous amount of time I’d spent worrying about my hair that morning.

Hudson slid an arm around my waist, drawing me closer as I rested my free hand against his broad chest.

His stubble brushed my cheek, and I discovered that kissing a man who hadn’t shaved was an entirely different experience from anything I’d imagined.

A rather lovely one, actually.

When I eased back, Hudson remained close, his forehead nearly touching mine.

He smiled.

“Well,” he murmured, “that was worth waiting for.”