I gestured toward Julia. “Hudson, this is Julia Swaggert. She’s the owner of Party Planners Plus. I met with her today.” And my ex-subject of stalking, Paul Kresh, who better not be anywhere nearby or I’m going to shit a brick. “Julia, this is Hudson Pierce.”
The normally confident and assured Julia seemed flustered. “I’m…Mr. Pierce, it’s an honor to meet you. I’m really excited about the potential our companies have working together.” Her face was lit with delight, and I realized just how much this deal meant to her. Understood why Paul was so willing to risk having me around.
As he had done earlier with Aaron, Hudson deferred the attention to me. “You’re in good hands with Alayna. She takes care of all business with the club. I’m merely a name on the deed.” He touched my arm lightly. “If you’ll both pardon me, I see someone I need to speak with.”
There was no one anywhere near our hideout, and I recognized Hudson’s words as a line to leave me to my work. I’d never been more grateful. Not only for letting me own my business deals in full, but because with him gone, the chance of Paul coming up in conversation—or in real life—wasn’t as threatening.
Julia stared after Hudson as he walked away. I didn’t blame her. He was hot coming and going.
“So you and Hudson Pierce?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Is it simply a getting frisky in the moonlight thing or the whole enchilada?”
“It’s, well, both. We’re together, if that’s what the whole enchilada means.” But I didn’t want to talk about my boyfriend. I wanted to know about hers. “Speaking of ‘together,’ where’s Paul?”
She pursed her lips. “He’s about somewhere. He usually stays behind the scenes at these things.”
“Ah, of course.” He was there, though. Which meant I needed to not be. “Well, I think Hudson was about ready to call it a night—”
“Yeah, it certainly appeared as such. Lucky you.”
Her sigh made me wonder how long it had been since she and Paul got frisky. I didn’t wonder too hard. Thinking about Paul and his relationships was the last thing I wanted to do. A polar opposite to the way I’d been when I’d known him before.
“Well, I should get back as well,” she said, sounding reluctant.
But I’d already slipped through the space in the hedge. I spun around to give her a final wave. “Nice to see you at work! You’re good.”
“Thanks.”
I was teeming with anxiety as I searched for Hudson. Paul Kresh was nearby. We had to leave. We had to leave before Hudson discovered my worst mistake had reentered my life.
I’d only made it a few feet along the pathway when Hudson stepped out from a nearby bush and took my hand, pulling me back toward the garden entrance.
“We need to leave. Now.” His tone was forceful, urgent.
Fuck. He knew. Had he overheard us talking? Would he assume that any Paul mentioned would be Paul Kresh?
I played innocent, in case I was wrong—hoping I was wrong. “Why? What’s the problem?” My heart stopped while I waited for his response.
Instead of answering, he took my hand and placed it over his still hard cock.
“Oh, my.” I hoped my exhalation sounded like awe rather than relief. Especially since some of it was awe. I was always impressed by Hudson’s penis. Even in the middle of a personal crisis.
I turned my flirt on full force, knowing that it was my easy ticket out of there. “Or you could take me here in the gardens.”
“Don’t tempt me. I’m near throwing you on that bench over there, but that might not be in the best of taste. And I wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation.” His eyes darted toward me. “Besides, what I have in store for you will take most of the night and I’m sure the Brooklyn Botanic Society would prefer to close before I’m anywhere near finished.”
Instantly, I needed a change of panties. “Um, okay.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.”
We were almost at the park entrance when Hudson cursed.
“What is it?”
“I see someone I should talk to. Do you mind?”
I was hot and needy and desperate to be jumped, so yes, I minded. But a glance at Hudson said he minded more. “Considering how you’re walking, I think you’ll be the miserable one.”
He gave me a pained glare and began leading me toward a group of gentleman talking nearby.
Then I saw him, out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to be sure it was him. It was. Paul Kresh in the flesh. Twice in one day, what were the chances? He wasn’t with the men that Hudson needed to speak to, thank god, but standing near the Visitor Center talking to a server balancing a tray of empty champagne glasses.