His Curvy Fantasy — Mary E. Thompson

HudsonFrom the moment Anna Charlotte stormed into my bar and demanded answers from me, I hadn't been able to get her out of my mind. She was infuriating, and she had no right to question the way I ran my business. Who did she think she was? Just because her son was one of my employees, she didn't get to stick her nose in. She could sit her curvy, cute butt on a stool and stew, but she couldn't say a peep. Who was I kidding? Anna didn't know how to sit still and not talk. Or complain. Or instruct me to fix all the things I was doing wrong. Which seemed to be everything. There was only one way to shut her up. And it was damn effective. AnnaTrust was a four-letter word in my life. Whenever I thought I could trust someone, they taught me real quick that I was wrong. So, why would I trust Hudson Grant? He owns a bar, for crying out loud. He wasn't looking out for my son's best interest. It didn't matter that his grades had improved since starting to work for Hudson. Or that he was focused on his future. Or that he helped out at home without being asked and did his homework and helped his brother. None of that had to do with Hudson. Right? It couldn't. That wasn't who he was. I knew men like him. Men who were only interested in one thing. Men who didn't care if they broke your heart. Men who...were nothing like Hudson Grant.