Playing with Words (Boggy Creek Valley 2)

“I’ll have you know, I love jerky. My father and brother have some of their deer meat made into jerky each year. But they do it themselves, so it’s not loaded down with crap. It’s amazing.”

His eyes widened and a look of longing came over his face. “I love deer jerky.”

I smiled and started to make the layers of the lasagna.

“Have you always liked to cook?” Hudson jumped off the counter and walked over to where I was standing. The kitchen was small enough as it was, but to feel him so close did something strange to me. It made me long for something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“For as long as I can remember,” I said. “My grandmother used to pull up a chair from her table and have me stand on it and let me help her. She loved to cook and worked in a restaurant in Boston for years before she met my grandfather.”

“Is your family from Boston?”

“No, Boggy Creek. My grandfather was on his way home after serving in the Army in World War II. He stopped in at a little diner in Boston where my grandmother worked before he made the last leg home to Boggy Creek. His grandfather settled in the valley when he was only twenty. Anyway, even though she loved cooking, my grandmother mainly waited tables. Granddaddy came in and was seated at one of her tables, and he said it was love at first sight. He asked her what she was doing after work, and she replied that she was going to a movie with him. And, as they say, the rest is history. They got married three months later.”

Hudson smiled as he popped a grape into his mouth. “I love that story.”

I nodded and got back to layering the lasagna. “Yeah, they loved each other very much. After my grandmother passed away, my grandfather died about a month later. He told me his heart hurt because he missed her so much. He died of a heart attack.”

A frown appeared between Hudson’s dark eyes. “My grandfather died of a heart attack too. It nearly destroyed my father. They were very close.”

“Are you close with your parents?”

A brightness filled his eyes. “I am. Although, the last few years I haven’t seen them as much as I would like. They live in Boston pretty much full time, except for when they travel for my dad’s job. I don’t think my father will ever give up photography.”

I smiled. “It’s a blessing to be able to do something you love as your occupation.”

He nodded. “It is.”

“When did you move from Boston to New York City?”

Looking up in thought, he said, “I moved to New York after college and got a job with The Washington Post. Then I landed a book deal and things kind of took off.”

“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

The corner of Hudson’s mouth rose in a half smile. “Will you tell me how old you are?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll be thirty-two soon.”

His brows rose. “How soon?”

“Saturday.”

“No kidding? In three days, huh? Well, happy early birthday.”

“You’re avoiding my question, Mr. Higgins. You know I can simply Google it, right?”

He tossed his head back and laughed. “That’s not fair.”

I shrugged and feigned disinterest. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“I’ll be thirty-four next month. If you ask my mother, though, she’ll say I’m six years past marriage and kids.”

With a disbelieving laugh, I layered the last of the noodles and grabbed the aluminum foil. “Six years past?”

He walked over to the oven he had turned on and slid in the frozen pizza. “Twenty-eight was when she had me, so I guess in her mind that’s the magic number.”

“Sounds like my mother.”

“What about you, Greer? Have you ever been close to marriage?” he asked as he leaned against the counter.

“Me?” I scoffed. “I’m married to Turning Pages. I feel like I live, eat, and breathe that place. I honestly haven’t had time to date anyone long term, and that’s okay. It took a lot of work to get the bookstore where I wanted it to be. I dated someone a couple of years back, but he told me I was more in love with the store than him.”

“Did you? Love the store more?”

For a moment, I pondered his question. “There’s no doubt in my mind that I put my business before him, which, looking back, was wrong. But in the end, I think if I had loved him like my grandmother and grandfather loved one another, then I would have invited him into that part of my life.”

Hudson drew his head back in surprise. “What do you mean?”

I sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment before I exhaled. “In order for any man to be a part of my life, he’s got to be a part of Turning Pages. It’s more than a job, it’s a dream. And I never let Andrew be a part of it. He never asked about it, though, to be honest. He hated to read, hated the smell of old books, and hated the fact that I devoted so much time to it all.”