The Invitation

When she came back with the menus, she said she’d give us a few minutes. I thought the interruption might help Hudson and me change topics, but he set his glass down and obviously had other ideas.

“So when are we dumping Len?”

I smiled. “We? Are you going to let him down with me?”

“I’ll happily do it for you.” He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

I chuckled. “Thanks, but I think I can handle it on my own.”

“But you will be handling it? Meaning bye-bye Benny boy?”

“Of course you’re able to get his name right when we’re talking about dumping him.” I rolled my eyes. “Besides, you and I look at relationships differently.”

Hudson’s eyes narrowed. “How so?”

“You said yourself that you enjoy spending time with women, but you have different expectations of where things will end up.”

“I meant I break things off if I can’t see a future and the woman I’m seeing seems to be growing feelings. I’m not averse to a relationship, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh.”

He grinned. “With you and me, our feelings are mutual. So it’s not a problem.”

I chuckled. “So I take it you’re not seeing anyone right now?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m working on it.” His eyes sparkled.

“When was the last time you had a date?”

“I guess it was the weekend before my sister’s wedding.”

“And how was that?”

“Well, we went to a Mexican restaurant. She asked me if I’d like to share an appetizer and told me to pick one, so I ordered chips and guacamole they made tableside. When I was done, my date turned to the waiter and said, ‘Guatemala. He means chips and Guatemala.’”

I laughed. “You’re making that up?”

He shook his head. “I wish I was.”

“I take it you didn’t go out with her again?”

“No. Though I met someone who spiked my interest the next weekend, anyway. She’s kind of hard to get out of my head, so it wouldn’t be fair to go out with someone else, even if they did know the difference between Guatemala and guacamole.”

I tried to cool the warm feeling in my belly with my wine. But the way Hudson was watching me didn’t make it easy.

“Did you meet Miss Guatemala on a dating site?”

“No. I actually met her at a fundraiser. I’m not on any dating sites.”

“Really? Then how do you meet people? The old-fashioned way?”

“Yes, I pay for prostitutes.”

“Liar.” I smiled. “You’ve never had to pay for it in your life. I meant bars. Is that where you meet women?”

“Sometimes. I don’t know. Wherever.”

I rolled my eyes and waved my hand at his face. “You have no trouble meeting people because you look like that.”

“Are you saying you like what you see?”

“You know you’re hot. You have a mirror at home, don’t you? I’m sure all you have to do is walk into a bar and snap your fingers and women run over.”

Hudson chuckled. “What am I, the Fonz?”

“Maybe?” We both laughed.

His smile faded as his eyes roamed my face. “You’re really beautiful when you laugh.”

I looked down, feeling a little shy. “Thank you.”

Hudson was still watching me intently when the waitress came back. She seemed to have impeccable timing—for me, anyway. Because when Hudson’s eyes dropped to my lips, I’d been a hair away from suggesting something that wasn’t on the dessert menu.

“See anything you’d like to try?” she said.

Hudson’s eyes blazed, and the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth confirmed we were on the same page. “I’ll leave it up to the lady to decide what she wants.”

I swallowed and focused on the menu. “Umm... They have crème brûlée cheesecake. You want to share a piece?”

Once again his eyes flickered to my lips for a moment. “Whatever you’re in the mood for.”

This was definitely my last glass of wine. I nodded to the waitress.

Hudson took my menu and lifted it with his for her to take back. “Thank you.”

After she left, I sipped my wine, and Hudson and I talked some more. I couldn’t remember the last time the conversation had flowed so easily when I’d gone out with someone. I’d also smiled the entire night. Though of course, this wasn’t a date. And I kept forgetting that.

By the time my glass was empty again, I’d entered the short hallway that led from tipsy to drunk. Which was probably why I’d lost my filter.

“How long is considered normal to go without sex?”

Hudson’s brows nearly reached his hairline. “Are you asking because you think you’ve surpassed whatever the acceptable limit is?”

My smile was lopsided. “Maybe.”

He groaned. “I said I wouldn’t ask you out again. But I could offer some help taking care of that problem for you.”

I laughed. “Seriously. What’s normal?”

“I have no damn idea.”

“Well, how long has it been for you?”

“I don’t know. A few months now, I guess. How about you?”