A Season to Celebrate by Fern Michaels

Author:Fern Michaels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-08-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

Hudson flipped the perfectly folded omelet over in the pan and slid it onto a waiting plate, then grinned when he heard a sudden commotion coming from the other room.

“What’s going on? Where am I? What happened?”

“Breakfast is going on. You’re in my guest room. And nothing happened,” he called out cheerfully. “Well, other than that whole bar brawl, mass arrest, and you springing me from the big house in the wee hours of the morning thing, then driving me home,” he added. “Well, I drove me home in your car, and by the time we got here you were dead to the world, so I carried you in and thought I’d let you sleep. Seemed like the least I could do, seeing as you posted my bail.”

There was no response to that. Instead, a moment later a sleepy-eyed Moira shuffled into his kitchen in her stocking feet, pulling up the front of her strapless, now hopelessly crumpled bridesmaid gown. Her short red curls stuck out in all directions like there had been an electric socket mishap in her not so distant past, the bulk of her mascara was no longer in its original location, and she had wrinkle marks on her cheek from sleeping for nine hours straight in the exact same position. How she could be all of that and still look utterly adorable was a mystery, but there it was, all the same.

She squinted in reaction to the sunshine streaming in through the long row of windows that ran along the opposite wall, then looked down at herself and frowned. “I’m still wearing my bridesmaid gown,” she remarked, as if puzzled by the discovery.

“Aye, well, I considered getting you out of it so you’d sleep more comfortably. A task I’ve performed countless times for my sisters in years past.” He arranged sliced melon and several strawberries on the plate next to the omelet, then glanced up and smiled. “Only you’re not my sister, and I figured you’d had enough manhandling for one night.”

She just stared at him and blinked. “I’ve had a really bad time with insomnia,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“Not anymore,” he told her, his smile widening to a grin. “Coffee?”

“If there is a God.”

“I don’t know that He had anything to do with it, but there’s a fresh pot on the counter there.”

“Bless you.” She shuffled over to the counter where the fancy coffeemaker was stationed. He’d laid out a fresh mug, small pitcher of cream, and a pot of sugar.

“If you’d rather some tea or hot chocolate, the pot on the left is hot water. Tea and cocoa mix are in the two containers there. Tea bag is on the tray. I can heat up some milk if you prefer your hot chocolate—”

“Coffee,” she said, and poured herself a mug, took a deep, appreciative whiff of the rich, freshly brewed aroma, then took a sip. Her shoulders relaxed instantly and her eyes closed. She made a soft moaning sound as she swallowed.

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