“Pretty much,” she said, licking stray ketchup from her finger. “The future harvester ant queen flies out to a spot where all the other future queens and fertile males are. Everyone has sex—a lot of sex—and then the females go and start a new colony with the unborn progeny from the orgy.”
“And what happens to the male ants? Do they go to the new colonies, too?”
“They all die.” She added just enough cartoon-villain glee to her voice to make him laugh—a real laugh. One that made it sound like he pretended to laugh a lot but never really meant it—but this time he did. “Life’s hard if you’re not the queen. Really, it’s hard if you are the queen. All you do is pop out babies fourteen to fifteen years, you never leave the colony, and when you die, so does everyone in the colony.”
“So, what I’ve learned tonight is that you’re just a simple girl with a nice job studying vicious insects who gorge themselves to marble proportions and die after sex.”
Her first instinct was to argue, but…he wasn’t exactly wrong. And dammit, he was gifting her with what was probably his patented I’m-too-charming-for-words smile. She shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“Tell me why this big crush on Tyler.”
Okay, that was a sharp left turn.
She could lie, make up a version of the truth that didn’t hit her so close to her vulnerable center, but he’d finally been honest with her. It would be pretty shitty not to do the same. After taking one last sip of vanilla shake for courage, she started to explain.
“I grew up the youngest of seven. I’m also the smallest, by almost a foot. The family joke is that when I was born pocket-sized—and I hate that term—my parents knew it was time to stop.” She sighed, hating that joke a little more every time she heard it. “Add to that the fact that they are all your typical Waterbury Irish—loud, fun, and destined to be cops or firefighters or nurses or teachers—and I’m a nerdy girl who studies ants for a living and, well, you get the picture.” She sucked down more vanilla shake for strength. “Don’t get me wrong, my family is great, and I’d cut anyone who ever said a bad thing about them, but it wasn’t always easy growing up where it was so obvious that I didn’t fit in. When Tyler’s family moved into the neighborhood, I was in sixth grade, and it was like a rock god was living next door. He was scary smart—so much so that he got a scholarship to a fancy Harbor City private school—hot, he always seemed at home no matter who he was with, and he’s still that person today.”
“And you want him, but have never made a move?” he asked, getting right to the sharp, jagged point of the problem.
What could she say? Nothing. She let a sharp shake of her head speak for her.
He swiped her shake, plopped his straw down in it, and took a hit of the good stuff before continuing the interrogation. “Why not?”
Now, wasn’t that the billion-dollar question? After turning the problem over in her mind for what felt like forever, she’d finally zeroed in on an answer when her mom had sent her the thirty-days-until-thirty present. “I’ve been scared to go after what I really wanted, I guess.”
“So why change that now?”
“My thirtieth birthday is in less than a month.” And getting Tyler was the only thing left on her do-by-thirty list. “Plus, there’s the cat thing.”
He raised one eyebrow, silently asking her to explain that statement.
“It was just a silly comment that my brother Finian, Frankie’s twin, made when I’d gotten a cat last year. He’d said it was the first of many, and everyone in the family had laughed.” She idly traced the alphabet on the table. “He didn’t mean anything by it; he’d just been busting my chops. However, I haven’t been able to get the mental picture out of my head. Tyler will have a wife and a family someday, and I’ll have thirty-two cats.” She sighed. It wasn’t that she needed a man to be happy or successful, but she wanted a family, a spouse, a life away from her beloved ants, which never even noticed if she was around or not. She needed someone, for once, to notice her.
“Nothing like a milestone to bring things into focus,” Hudson said quietly.
“Exactly.” She snagged back her shake before he could finish it off.
“So, let’s do this,” he said, turning on his stool so that their knees touched, sending a spark of almost tangible and definitely thrilling yes straight through her. “I’ll help you get Tyler in bed and out of it, if that’s what you decide you really want.”
Of course, that’s what he thought her thing with Tyler was, an itch to be scratched rather than a love story she’d been writing in her head since middle school. “You just had to add that last bit, didn’t you?”
“Yep.” He winked and took back his straw and put it in the measly bit of strawberry shake he had left. “And of course, you agree to let me paint you as payment.”
Maybe it was the sugar rush from the shake, but partnering up suddenly seemed like a good idea. Hudson wasn’t anyone’s idea of Henry Higgins, but she had a feeling she just might be Eliza Doolittle—or at least someone who didn’t want to end up alone with thirty-two cats.
“I’m probably going to regret this, but fine. Let’s do this.” She picked up her glass and clinked it against Hudson’s. “Not sure why you want to paint me, but just to be clear, absolutely positively no way am I posing nude. Fair warning.”
An absolutely, positively wicked gleam sparkled in his eyes. “Whatever you say, Matches.”
Chapter Four
After paying the bill, despite Felicia’s attempt to get him to halve it, Hudson held open the door for her, and they stepped outside into the cool fall night. The streetlights had blinked on while they’d eaten, and the streets had cleared—well, as much as they ever did in Harbor City—but there wasn’t a cab in sight. A crisp breeze brushed past them, and she shivered and huddled deeper into her thin coat.
“How far up are you?” he asked after he scanned the area for a cab and came up with nothing.
“About fifteen blocks.” She jerked her chin eastward.
Okay, that was doable. Harbor City was a pedestrian city; everyone hoofed it—even the mayor. “Let’s walk.”