Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

EMMA

A fter delivering the wagon to his dad, I drive home with a goofy smile, replaying every moment with Hudson. Christmas music blares on the radio, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this way.

A tingle of anticipation washes over me, surrounded by a world of unspoken possibilities with this man. I'm on cloud nine just thinking about him.

As I pull up to the cabin, I spot a black SUV in the driveway. Its windows are thick like they’re bulletproof.

I hesitate but then notice my father on the porch. When he sees me, he waves. Brody, one of his temporary bodyguards, stands beside him. He usually only comes around for special assignments, the kind where my dad wants to keep a low profile. I park, knowing I can't avoid my father while he's here. Sometimes, it's best to rip off the Band-Aid for quicker healing.

I glance around, checking for anyone else with him. It’s just the two of them. As I approach, neither of them look like they belong here.

“Brody,” I say, meeting his eyes. He’s muscular, covered in tattoos, and tends to be quiet. Over the years, I’ve heard him speak only a handful of times. He’s also Billie’s cousin.

“Father,” I acknowledge. “Didn't expect to see you this year.”

“Surprise! I thought I'd spread some cheer in Merryville with my beautiful daughters.” He smiles broadly, too cheerful for my liking.

“What’s with the act?” I question.

His brows rise. He’s still dressed in a three-piece suit, slacks, and a tie, as if he flew straight from New York to Merryville. “What act?”

I glance at Brody, hoping for at least a supportive look, but he ignores me. My dad is never this nice.

“Claire’s on her way,” he informs me, glancing down at his phone.

They exchange glances, and I turn the doorknob, step inside. “They keep it unlocked.”

“That seems unsafe,” my father says, but I keep moving forward because I need to pack. I lift my suitcase from the floor and place it on the bed. Moments later, Tinsel dashes past my door, her bell jingling.

“Tinsel. Psst Psst Psst,” I call out. The jingling stops, and I can picture her frozen in the hallway. The sound gets closer, and I wait as she slowly peeks around the corner. I pat my hand on the hardwood floor. “Come here, please. I'd love to give you a proper goodbye and a kiss.”

She takes a step forward but then stops. I lean down, reaching for her chin, and she darts away.

“I thought we were besties!” I yell.

I lie back on the hardwood floor, staring at the ceiling, replaying my day in my mind—too many cute smirks and stolen glances.

“Emma,” Claire says at my doorway, startling me.

I sit up. “Oh my God! Why does everyone around here always do that?”

“I'm so sorry. Please don't be upset with me. You don’t have to stay with Hudson, if you’d prefer not to.”

“It's not your fault. I should have planned better.” I shake my head and lower my voice. “Or Dad should have. He mentioned wanting to spend Christmas here. Why is he here so early?”

“I don't know. Between you and me, I think he’ll announce his retirement in January. I bet he's here to scout property to be closer to us.”

“Us?” I shake my head. “Claire. I'm not moving here.”

“Yes, you are.” She laughs. “I had the same look on my face last year.”

“Pfft. Stop. Peer pressure doesn't work on me. I'm immune, remember?” I grab the cocktail dresses from the closet. Harper made me pack them, convinced I might need them for dinner.

“ Penis pressure will.”

“Eww, shut up,” I tell her, but she's not wrong. If Hudson is The One for me, I'd never leave.

“How long do you think it will be before you're sleeping in Hudson's bed?”

I toss a pair of socks at her. “If I'm lucky... tonight .”

“Damn. I almost feel sorry for him.” Claire readjusts her ponytail and glances toward the living room.

“You should,” I admit. “I'm going to give him hell.”

Each time he pushes me away, I'll stumble forward—at least until I know there's no chance for us in hell. With his past, heaven is already out of the question, isn’t it?

She laughs. “Just don't get pregnant before me, got it?”

“Please. It would be an immaculate conception.”

“Miracles happen every day,” she snickers.

“Claire!” My father calls from the living room.

“If you need any help, let me know, okay?”

I tilt my head and smile. “I wish I could say the same. He's your problem this season.”

“Ugh.” My sister shuffles toward them.

“Your cat bit me,” my father says in his deep, gruff voice.

Claire laughs. “Do you blame her?”

I take the steps to Hudson's house, wheeling my heavy suitcases behind me. On my palm is the code he gave me–0704. I type it in, and the handle clicks open.

He might be the only Jolly who locks anything, including his heart.

I pause in the foyer, taking in the space that belongs to him. Pictures of Colby hang above the fireplace—he's a proud dad, and a great dad.

My gaze drifts to the couch, and memories of last night flood my mind, filling me with a gentle swirl of excitement that makes me feel alive.

Leaving my suitcases at the door, I ascend the stairs. A few boards creak beneath my feet, and at the top, I'm greeted by a wide hallway lined with doors on each side. The first door reveals a playroom filled with toys, which connects to a Jack and Jill bathroom leading directly into Colby's room.

Dinosaurs are on his comforter, curtains, and wallpaper. On his nightstand sits a lamp and a tablet protected by a shatterproof case. A child-sized desk in the corner holds a notebook and crayons. In it, he was working on a drawing of two stick figures: the tall one labeled “Dad” and the smaller one with his name above it. He’s smart, just like his dad.

In the background is a pony with a sausage-shaped body and stick legs. A smile forms on my lips; that must be Thor.

I exit his room and cross to the door facing Colby's. It opens to reveal an empty space. I walk back through the bathroom, which mirrors the one across the hall.

I expect to find another empty room, but instead, I'm met with a four-poster bed. Dust coats the photo albums stacked on the dresser, and the closet is filled with suits of various colors.

It’s clear that no one has been in this room in a very long time.

Curiously, I return to the dresser and open the first album. A gigantic wedding cake dominates the center of the ivory pages, making my heart sink. Then I come across pictures of a twenty-something Hudson in a tuxedo, convinced it’s the start of forever with the love of his life. My favorite images are of him with his brothers; Jake and Lucas look like kids, but there they are together. The bond they share shines through.

As I turn the page, she appears. This must be Meredith. She’s short with a blonde bob and bright blue eyes, she looks nothing like me. I’m not sure what I expected.

I flip through the pages where they're together, and he looks so happy that it breaks my heart. Their story didn’t culminate in a happily ever after.

I shut the book and pick up another. In this one, Hudson is horseback riding, shirtless in neon green shorts and flip-flops, exuding the cocky charm of a teenager. A Jolly Christmas Tree Farm baseball cap rests on his head as he gives a middle finger to the camera. I suspect Jake took the photo, especially since there are selfies of the two of them right after. It almost feels like I'm there with them.

The albums showcase his life from his perspective, and I'm captivated, eager to learn more through these snapshots. I want to flip through them all.

The next album of him and his grandma baking throughout the years, with several pictures from the Christmas cookie contest. In one photo, he's proudly holding a sign that reads: “My recipe won!”

My mouth drops open. “No fucking way.”

“What?” he asks, standing in the doorway and watching me from behind.

I gasp. “Shit! Does everyone sneak up on people around here? How long have you been there?”

“Long enough.”

I close the album and turn to face him.

“You're not supposed to be here,” I say.

“That's my line.” He smirks. “Did you find what you were searching for?”

“Nah. Just an album of wedding photos where the faces weren't scratched out. I can help you with that if you change your mind; I've had plenty of practice over the years.” I suppress a grin. “It was weird seeing you so happy. Seriously, I half-expected you to blink twice for help.”

He laughs, and I make it my mission to hear that sound more often. This man may act like he has a hard exterior, but he's soft like a M&M.

“Yeah, I used to fake it a lot. I wanted to be liked and loved. Not anymore. Now, life gets what it gives. People can take me as I am, or they don’t get me at all.”

“You deserve to be accepted for who you are. You're not so bad.”

His expression relaxes. “I have a hard-ass persona to maintain.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. Always. I’ll keep it forever, right here.” I pat my heart.

“Same.” He breaks eye contact and glances around the room. “If you don't like this space, I can move the furniture elsewhere. There’s a master bedroom downstairs with a full bathroom, but I don’t use it.”

I want to ask why, but now isn't the time. Eventually.

“This is perfect, Hudson.” I run my hand over the dresser. “Is this hand-carved?”

He nods. “Yep. My great-grandfather built this entire set and hand-carved it from an old oak that fell.”

“Great. So, not to state the obvious, but I guess it's seen a lot of use.”

“Tons. Generational lovemaking. Oh, and good luck sleeping on that goat fur mattress,” he replies.

My eyes widen. “Guess I’ll be taking your bed until I can get a new mattress delivered.”

He laughs again. “Yeah, and where would I sleep?”

I adore his charming Southern accent.

“Next to me.”

I swear I see his green eyes darken as that gorgeous smirk spreads across his perfect lips.

We’re standing on the precipice of something bigger than us, and I’ve almost convinced him to take the leap with me. We’ll face our fear of falling in love together.

I just need a chance... a real one.