Page 61 of Axe-Rated Lumberjack

“That’s the part I enjoy. I love figuring out what makes a character behave the way they do.”

“And I like watching you figure it out.”

I felt myself smiling across the table.

After dinner, I helped clear the dishes while Hudson put the leftovers away. He handed me a dish towel and began washing the pans, and for a while we worked quietly together, trading dishes and occasionally brushing elbows in the narrow space beside the sink.

Then Hudson glanced toward me.

“Can I ask you something? I’ve been thinking about those scenes we recorded today, and I’m curious which one’s been your favorite.”

I considered that as I dried a plate.

“The one where Drake finally tells Isadora that he wants her to choose him, regardless of the enchantment. I liked the way you delivered it. You made him sound as though he’d already made up his mind, even if she hadn’t.”

Hudson smiled as he rinsed the skillet.

“I liked that one too. Seems like the fellow ought to have enough sense to know whether he wants the woman without asking a tree.”

“Quite. Although I also enjoyed the part where Isadora stopped waiting for Drake to make the first move. She knew what she wanted, and she asked for it.”

He set the skillet on the draining rack, then turned toward me with an expression I was beginning to recognize.

“Reminded me of somebody. Especially the part about asking for what she wants.”

I laughed and put down the dish towel.

“I can’t imagine whom you mean.”

Hudson dried his hands and came closer.

“Actually, I’m more interested in what you want, Peyton. Not what some fictional dragon and his girlfriend are doing.”

My face warmed.

That question was becoming dangerously effective.

I set down the dish towel and moved into his arms.

“I want to spend the rest of the evening with you,” I said. “And I have several ideas about how I’d like to do that. But I don’t intend to make all the suggestions myself. I rather enjoy hearing what you want, too.”

His hands settled at my waist, and his smile widened.

“Then I think we’re going to have a pretty good evening.”

I rose onto my toes and kissed him.

His arms closed around me, warm and familiar, and I was delighted by how comfortable I felt telling him exactly how much I wanted him.

When I finally eased back, I caught his hand.

“Would you like to show me your bedroom again?”

Hudson grinned.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He paused in the kitchen doorway long enough to pick up the water glass he’d been drinking from at dinner.