3. Moody

3

MOODY

T he day started out slower than normal. I didn’t mind as it gave me a chance to catch up on display design for the upcoming Haunted Hollows Book Fair. Doc Montez bought a few coloring books for his grandkids who were visiting over the weekend, and Gail Jensen bought three historical romances to take with her to Portugal. That was it.

Until the bell above the door chimed at one p.m.

“Hiya, Moody.”

I froze on the third step of my ladder, blinking like a vampire awakened in a new time zone as I cradled volumes one through four of a popular paranormal series in my arms. “You’re back.”

Hudson chuckled softly and tipped his hat in greeting. And darn it, he was more handsome than yesterday. Was that possible? I wasn’t sure why a different color of plaid flannel would make a difference. Or maybe it was the cut of his dark jeans. These were a tad more snug in the crotch area and?—

Oh, no. No lecherous longing looks.

“I am and I—hey, let me help you with that.” Hudson hurried to the ladder and held it still while I slid the books onto the shelf.

I thanked him, dusting my hands off as I climbed down. “What can I do for you? Wait. Don’t tell me you stayed up all night reading and finished every book you bought yesterday.”

He gave a roguish smile. “Just the gay romance.”

My jaw hit the floor and stayed there for an embarrassingly long duration.

“The cowboy romance,” I squeaked.

“That’s the one.” He moved to the register and casually leaned against the counter. “It was good. The characters definitely had chemistry, and those steamy scenes were scorching hot. But I have a few gripes.”

“I see.” I cleared my throat. “I’m not the author, but feel free to share said gripes with me. If you’d like.”

“That’s why I’m here. I don’t know anyone else who’s read that particular book, and I have a little time to spare before I head over to Oak Ridge. I thought I’d get your thoughts on the matter and pick up the second book in the series…if you happen to have it.”

“The second book. Uh , yes, I do, and um…I shall return momentarily.” I was grateful for the minor chore and the chance to realign my wavelengths and remind myself that this man was a customer…nothing more, nothing less. Deep breaths, Moody. Deep breaths . “Here you go.”

Hudson straightened from his rodeo hero pose—minus the chaps and ropes and the fragrant odor of livestock—and studied the cover. “Ahh, two burly-chested hotties. Another couple, or is this a continuation?”

“New couple. This one is Maverick and Ted’s story,” I replied like a real know-it-all. “So…gripes? Lay them upon me.”

His eye crinkled at the corners. “Well, okay…number one, there are a few inconsistencies. The author has the guys wearing tighty-whities in one chapter and boxer briefs in the next. I don’t know about you, but it’s one or the other for me.”

“Which is it?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“Boxer briefs. You?”

“Same.”

Hudson nodded. “Also, the animals are fed way too often. Chester had to be knee-deep in hay by the fifth chapter the way they were schleppin’ it into that poor horse’s stall every other scene. And there’s a minor plot hole with their ex-girlfriends. Both seemed like they were gonna wreak havoc, but nothing happened.”

“Oh. Right. It’s been a while since I’ve read that one. However, I remember that it was steamy and—” I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood, then blurted in a rush, “I should never have recommended that book. I don’t know why I did it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good in spite of the plot holes and animal feeding frenzy, but I?—”

“Whoa. I liked it,” he intercepted. “A lot.”

“Why?”

He wrinkled his nose in confusion. “It was light and breezy. I like the setting, and…I suppose it was the mindless diversion I needed.”

I stared at him, willing a customer to sail through the door and save me from asking a leading, inappropriate, mind-your-own-dang-business question.

“You weren’t averse to the homosexual content?”

Too late.

Hudson quirked another sexy half smile my way. “Definitely not. I’m bi.”

“Bi.” I fiddled with my glasses. “Oh, okay. Uh …great. Well…”

“Damn, I just made this weird, didn’t I?” He glanced away briefly, slipping his hat off as he turned to me again. His longish brown hair fell into place, framing his chiseled cheekbones to perfection.

I was too busy unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth to form a coherent sentence, so I went with, “Gosh, no!”

He snickered. “You don’t have to be so polite. I’m…sorry. I don’t make a habit of announcing my sexuality, but I’m not sure there’s another way to explain why I don’t mind reading about two men who enjoy a robust sex life.”

“Ha. I suppose that does explain things,” I agreed awkwardly. “I assumed apologies were in order for foisting romance on you when you clearly stated a preference for mysteries, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I did. Gotta be honest, you’re a good salesperson. The odds of anyone gettin’ me to read a romance are damn low.”

“Why is that?”

Hudson waved dismissively. “ Meh , life stuff.”

Oh. I knew that man had secrets . Of course, his private affairs were his own and it was grossly wrong to pry, but?—

“What kind of life stuff?” I pressed, slipping the new book into a bag.

“Well…my fiancée dumped me a month before our wedding day.”

I widened my eyes in shock and dismay. “Oh. Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It sucks for sure, but it would have been worse if we’d actually tied the knot.”

I furrowed my brow. “True, but I’m positively indignant on your behalf!”

Hudson chuckled. “I’m fine. It’s almost old news now. The wedding date that didn’t happen was a year ago. I’ve had time to get over it and move on.”

“That’s the spirit. You’ll meet the right girl…or guy when the time is right.” I winced. “Cliché, cliché. Sorry if that sounds trite, but I think it might be true.”

“Thanks, but I’m gonna give myself a break in the hearts and flowers department for a while. I’d rather concentrate on work, do some sightseeing while I’m here, and”—he picked up the book between us on the counter—“catch up on some reading.”

I grinned. “Bravo! You have the right attitude. We have so many amazing notable natural diversions in the area. You could do a day trip to Moro Bay or drive to Big Sur. Our local wineries are exceptional too, and of course…the beach is just a skip and a big jump down the road. How long will you be in town?”

“Two more days,” he replied. “I’m staying at the beach, and it’s beautiful, but I’ve discovered I don’t like sand. It’s terrible ’cause I’ve got this gorgeous room with ocean views, meals included. I should love it.”

“Romantic sunsets and canoodling couples clogging the boardwalks…yes, I can see why that wouldn’t appeal, but—” I cocked my chin as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. “Wait…oh, dear. You’re on your honeymoon.”

Hudson put his hat on his head and sighed. “Bingo.”

I made a yikes face. “Is it awful?”

“Yeah, it’s terrible,” he admitted with a wry laugh. “I don’t know what I was thinking. No, that’s not true. I don’t like throwing away money, and I’d never been to California. I will say…it’s beautiful. I have business here too, so it’s not a weeklong pity party by any stretch.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Are you a nature lover?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Great. I’m going to give you a list of things to do and see in the next forty-eight hours.” I pulled out a pad of paper and pen and scribbled a few suggestions. “Hiking, wine tasting…bird watching. There’s a great restaurant with views of the valley just fifteen minutes down the road. It’s called Solano’s and if you love a good steak, you’ll be a happy clam. They also have clams. In fact, they’re known for their shellfish. I’d say you need a reservation most of the time, but this is low season and a single guy can always find a seat at the bar or?—”

“Come with me.”

I dropped the pen and frowned. “To dinner? Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He lifted his arms in surrender. “I’m not coming on to you, Moody, I promise. I have no game whatsoever right now, anyway. Like, zilch. I also have no agenda, and I’m not looking to hook up. I’m just a little tired of my own company, and you seem like an interesting guy. If you’re free for dinner, it would be nice to talk some more. That’s all.”

The bell chimed, alerting us that a customer had walked in. Two seconds later, it chimed again. Low voices chattered about the weather, a rock star’s new autobiography, and someone’s unruly pet. I heard every word somehow. Odd under the current circumstances.

I mean, the cowboy had asked me out to dinner. The cowboy…you know, the dreamy one with muscles galore and a hat and a handsome face.

Oh, yes…and he was bisexual. And only a “very comfortable in his own skin” bisexual could devour some sassy man-on-man romance and come back for another helping, which made him extra dreamy.

Fantasy activated, am I right?

Except for the part where he’d been dumped by his fiancée and was nursing a broken heart on his honeymoon.

Some guys have all the luck and some guys were…me.

Sad-sack musings aside, I liked Hudson and it wasn’t as if I had a busy schedule, so…

“I accept your invitation, kind sir.” I thrust my hand toward him, a serious expression on my face.

Hudson grinned as he shook my hand. “Cool. It’s a date.”