Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
He looked like he wanted to say something, to answer me, and I was desperate to hear it. But within a moment, he’d obviously changed his mind. He swallowed and looked off to the far right in the direction of my uncle’s house.
“What’s that building over there?”
I hesitated for a moment, trying to get back in the mindset of a tour guide.
Before I could answer him, he blurted, “Straight. I’m straight. Straight.”
I stared at him, wondering if he truly thought that repeating a lie made it true. Regardless, the man was trouble, and I needed more man trouble like a hole in the head. Not to mention I was smarting from the realization that there was a good chance he didn’t even remember the words he’d said to me the night before about me being his. I’d known he was drunk, of course, but a little part of me had believed there’d been some truth to them. His adamant insistence he was straight was a punch to the gut, and I wondered it it was time to find an excuse to just get the hell out of there for a while.
7
Hudson
Hudson’s Words To Live By:
If you repeat something enough times, maybe it will come true. Hell, it worked for Dorothy.
Straight.
Why had the word felt wrong on my tongue? And why, for the love of god, had I repeated it so many times? The man looked at me like I was insane.
“Sure thing, Hudson,” he’d said before moving seamlessly back into tour guide mode. The rest of the tour had been straightforward, as if Charlie was gone and in his place stood an automaton. It had still been the best damned historical tour I’d ever been on. The facts and anecdotes of the pub and surrounding area he’d relayed were fascinating. Fig and Bramble was rich in family history, and I’d felt the pride coming off him in waves as if just by working there, he was a part of it.
But way too soon, the tour was over, and he’d disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving me standing in the lobby again staring at the woman I’d heard him refer to as Liv.
“Where did he go?” I’d asked.
“Said he was off for a delivery. He’ll be doing the Waterford run for Alan, I’d imagine. An overnighter, that one.”
So as I’d been escorted into the narrow hallway of business offices and shown the files I’d needed, I’d felt a pang of… something. Loss, perhaps? Disappointment? Maybe I’d wanted to learn a little more about him or share another evening chatting across the bar. Not for any other reason than friendly companionship of course, but it still would have been better than dining alone.
But it turned out to be a moot point because that evening, I had company of another kind.
“Hiya, handsome,” Cait said, sliding into the booth in front of me. “Join you for dinner?”
I looked around the half-full pub, wondering if she’d landed at the wrong table.
“Um, I’m fine,” I said.
She flashed me a giant grin full of straight white teeth. “You sure are. So, what are you ordering? Do you need a suggestion? I’m Cait, by the way.”
“Yes, I know. I’m Hudson.” I glanced at the menu in my hands and back up at her. “I was just going to get the coddle again.”
“Pfft. Now why in the world would you do that? Don’t you want to try something new?”
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Why did everyone think trying new things was a good idea? Sometimes old favorites were better. Comfortable. Expected. Predictable. “I liked it. Why order something different when I know there’s already something I like on the menu?”
“Spoken like a man who only dines at his local chip shop,” she said with a chuckle. “Have the beef and Auld Best stew. I guarantee you’ll like it as much as the coddle. Our recipe is the best stew around, and it’s a cold enough night for it. Auld Best is the brewery’s stout. Kind of like Guinness, yeah?”
When I’d been seated in this booth, I’d felt a shimmer of happiness that it was located next to the fireplace with its huge wood-burning fire. I’d gone for a short walk before dinner to see the ocean beyond the cliffs and had gotten cold enough to be grateful for the cozy warmth. Cait was right: a stew seemed just the thing for such a night.
“Sold,” I said, laying down my menu. “But don’t make me drink a pint of Auld Best with it. Not sure my head or stomach can handle any more of Fig and Bramble’s special brews.”
Cait threw her head back and let out a laugh. “My brother did you wrong last night, is that what you’re saying?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, it was all Charlie’s fault.” My gut did a mini pirouette at the feel of Charlie’s name in my mouth, and I quickly told it to stand the hell down. No silly butterflies for the bartender when I was supposed to be here working to impress Bruce Ames.