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I loved that about him.

Hudson still supervised the Crosscut crew, and narration had become something he enjoyed when an interesting project fit his schedule, rather than another full-time career.

I’d continued working with Folio Soundworks, taking on projects that challenged me and occasionally traveling when a recording assignment warranted it. Having my own professional space at home had made my schedule wonderfully flexible.

Hudson finished his coffee and looked toward the hallway.

“How much of the sequel do you want to get through this morning? I’ve got the afternoon free, so there’s no hurry unless you need to send something to Bridget.”

“We’re only rehearsing a few exchanges today. I’d like to hear how you approach the new scene before we start recording the final takes next week. And I promise not to keep you trapped in the studio all afternoon.”

“That’s good news.” He carried his empty plate to the sink and turned on the tap. “I’ve got a much better idea for how we could spend the rest of Saturday.”

I followed him with my own plate, smiling at the suggestion in his voice.

“An idea involving something other than woodworking, I presume?”

Hudson dried his hands and turned toward me.

“Honey, I’ve spent the last five days at the logging site. I like my work, but right now I’d rather spend some time with my favorite woman.”

He caught me around the waist and drew me against him. I slipped my arms around his shoulders, enjoying the comfortable warmth of his chest beneath my hands.

“You do realize flattery won’t get you out of reading the enchanted-stump chapter?”

“I wasn’t trying to get out of it.”

His smile widened as he bent to kiss me.

“I was hoping you’d let me finish the job quickly.”

I kissed him back, lingering long enough to make that prospect increasingly unlikely.

When we finally separated, I straightened my glasses and attempted to look like a woman with an important professional responsibility.

“Come along, then. We have a dragon to supervise.”

***

My recording room was one of my favorite places in the house.

I’d chosen a deep green for the walls, with warm wooden shelves holding reference books, neatly labeled manuscript binders, and a few framed illustrations from novels I’d narrated. A comfortable upholstered chair stood beside the window, where I liked to read through new assignments before marking up the scripts.

The recording area itself was arranged for professional work, with acoustic treatment, an adjustable microphone, and enough space for two performers when we needed to record dialogue together.

Hudson had made the long desk beneath the window, carefully measuring everything so my monitors, interface, and laptop could sit within easy reach.

The adjoining workshop had its own entrance from the hallway and enough sound insulation between us that I could work without listening to his tools.

Today, he pulled out the second recording chair while I gathered the marked sequel pages.

I’d changed into a soft plum cardigan over a cream blouse and dark tailored trousers, comfortable enough for a morning at the microphone but still rather more presentable than the old T-shirt Hudson had apparently decided was appropriate for the occasion. Not that I objected. He looked magnificent in it.

“Are we using the same setup as last time?” he asked, examining the microphone stand.

“For the dialogue, yes. I want to hear us responding naturally to each other before we record the separate passages. I’ve marked the places where the author seems particularly enthusiastic about the magical effects.”

Hudson settled beside me and accepted his copy of the script.