15. Moody

15

MOODY

W inning a local holiday competition was all well and good, but there were still books to be sold and work to be done. I was busier than ever in the days following our gingerbread win. Tourists flooded the town, bringing business to every shop on Holiday Lane. I was awake early in the mornings, preparing the shelves and restocking popular items. By the end of each day, I ached all over, exhausted from the holiday melee.

But you know what? I liked it too. I genuinely, abso-posi-toot-ly enjoyed everything about my job. How lucky I was to be surrounded by the things I loved—books, kind people, and endless goodwill. How lucky I was that a certain hunky cowboy waited for me, walked me home, made me tea, asked about my day, and held me in his arms.

Very lucky, indeed.

I had no complaints. Me. The same miserly individual who’d wished December would bug off and make way for January already had gone through a magnificent transformation. My blinders were off, my heart felt lighter, my head was clearer. I was…dare I say it…happy.

Except for one thing.

There was a wistfulness in Hudson I didn’t understand. On one hand, he oozed contentment, but I noticed him staring at me or into space at random times as if looking for answers to questions he had yet to formulate.

I didn’t push and no, that wasn’t like me. I knew better than most that some thoughts needed to be sorted on one’s own. I didn’t think he was tired of me or unsure of his move to California. If anything, he seemed excited for this new beginning at the ranch and he was an attentive lover and boyfriend and?—

Gosh, I wondered if this was too much, too soon.

I didn’t want to be greedy and ask for more than he could give. I had very little experience in matters of the heart. Hudson had been through a rough patch with his previous relationship. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if we were currently in a relationship. Perhaps this was a casual sexual affair. That was how we’d started, and maybe that was all he wanted.

This was a January problem. I wouldn’t dare risk losing him. Not now.

I’d forgotten what it felt like to be excited about what the day might bring during the holidays. It was a sweet feeling.

Of course, I could have done without the heart palpitations and bouts of unexplained dizziness that seemed to be a normal reaction to Hudson’s presence. They happened so frequently that I upped my salt intake to combat the possibility I had a mild form of anemia.

“Stop! No salt,” Vicki scolded, plucking the shaker from my hands. “Too much isn’t good for you, and you’ll kill the taste of my gravy. Go on…give it a try.”

I obeyed, nodding my approval. “The flavor is quite robust.”

She snickered, waving absently at a customer as she leaned against the café counter. “Thank you. I think I’m set for Christmas dinner. Are you sure you don’t mind that I’ve invited a few more guests this year?”

“Not at all. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good. I’ll need two pies. Possibly three. Does Hudson have a sweet tooth?” Vicki inquired casually.

“Um, he likes apple pie…I think.”

“I’ll make extra to be on the safe side.” She pushed a pencil over her ear and cast a quizzical glance my way. “Do you have something on your mind, honey?”

I frowned. “Hudson never mentioned Christmas dinner.”

She looked surprised. “Oh. I don’t think he officially RSVP’d either. Damn, is he going to Colorado after all?”

“I’ll ask.”

I meant to, I really did.

The days got away from me and the nights were a perfect blend of sex and sweetness.

It should have been easy enough to interrupt A Charlie Brown Christmas to inquire about my lover’s plans, but I was wary of interrupting the impromptu foot massage.

Okay…no, that wasn’t it. I sensed that mood again—a haunting of some sort, a cloud I hoped would blow away.

I gnawed my lower lip, wondering why Charlie Brown bothered with his terrible classmates and simultaneously wishing I could read Hudson’s mind and?—

“You should go home for Christmas,” I blurted.

Hudson furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

“Shoot, darn, dagnabbit. That was supposed to be a question. Are you going home for Christmas?”

“I wasn’t planning on it. I thought I told you that.”

Oh.

“I don’t think so.”

“ Hmm . It’s always good to see my family, but it’s a hassle to travel during the holidays. Mom understands. I can use the ticket in January. I think she’s stubbornly hoping I’ll surprise her and?—”

“You should.”

Hudson froze. “You want me to go?”

“No, no. I’m simply aware that assuaging familial guilt goes a long way during the season of felicitations and goodwill toward men…and women.”

“Uh-huh.” He muted the sound on the television, shifting on his seat to eye me suspiciously. “What’s really going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Look at me, Moody.”

I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. It was a futile attempt at keeping my gob shut, but it was worth a shot ’cause the moment I started blabbing, all kinds of embarrassing things were bound to pour out of me. Just wait.

“I can’t.”

“Moody…”

“ Ugh ! Fine.” And here we go. “I have very strong feelings for you.”

Hudson grinned. “Good.”

“As in…I think about you all the time. Morning, noon, night. I want to be with you, hear your voice, touch you…constantly. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, but you were engaged to someone. You were a month away from ‘I dos’ and there’s a possibility I’m your second-place prize.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your rebound,” I clarified. “Your boomerang affair before you return to the dating pool with aplomb!”

“You’re not my rebound, and you’re definitely no second-place prize.”

Moody huffed. “You say that now because you’re a gentleman. Next you’ll claim I’m a sexual dynamo with untapped potential.”

Hudson lifted my hand to his lips. “You are.”

I squeezed his fingers and whispered, “I’m simply afraid this is a seasonal romance. I can’t tell if it’s too much, too fast, too sudden, and…to be honest, it scares me.”

Silence.

“Oh.”

That single syllable echoed in my ears. “I ruined this, didn’t I?”

“Don’t be silly. We’re good.” He worried his bottom lip. “I don’t have all the answers, Moody. I know that I like this place and I love being with you, but I can’t tell you the future.”

“I know.” I laced our fingers, hoping my smile met my eyes. “It’s okay. There’s no rush.”

“You still don’t trust December, do you?”

I was too surprised to comment at first. “I…I suppose I don’t.”

Hudson nodded. “I understand. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, but I think you need space. More than you’ll get here with me.”

His Adam’s apple slid in his throat. “If you need me to go, I’ll go. But I’m not leaving, Moody. Not really. I’ll be back.”

“And I’ll be here.” I pushed hair from his eyes.

He crashed his mouth over mine, piercing me with a weighty look as he released me.

“Just so you know, it’s the same for me. You’re always on my mind. Always.”

Hudson made love to me that night…and it was different. He branded my lips with greedy kisses and moved inside me with a ferocity that took my breath away. It was as if he were saying words that couldn’t be spoken aloud with his body. Though I’d had no practice, I understood this language.

I detected the notes of distress and fear in both of us and gave them grace.

But in the morning, I was alone.

I was used to being alone.

I was used to hollow expectations and disappointment. I was used to loss and sorrow. I braced for a flash of pain as a cold December wind whistled through the trees, testing the tethered blow-up reindeer on my neighbor’s lawn. It didn’t come.

So strange. I couldn’t figure it out. I should have been a wreck. I should have been a mess of tears and sadness. Eventually, the tears would clear, and I’d be cranky about my situation and before you could say Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, I’d be my grouchy December self again. And I’d have no one but myself to blame.

But there were no stinging regrets, no angst against the universe, or bah-humbug malaise. I was still…happy.

Don’t get me wrong, my heart was a little tender, but it was full too.

I loved Hudson, and somehow, I knew he felt the same way. Maybe not the L-word, but something close.

Someday, when he was ready to hear the words and let me in, I’d tell him. And maybe we could be something special.

For now, there was power in letting go.