12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (50 page)

H
udson was surprised
by how much he could sweat on a cold December day, but he was trying to work as quickly as he could to get Sadie’s door finished before dark.

He took off around the house to find Sadie—couldn’t put in the door on his own. The kitchen and dining room were both empty, as was the front room and the attached conservatory or music room, or whatever it was called.

He wasn’t into Clue or up on all the appropriate Snob Knob names for foyers or libraries or whatever. But there were several of them, and they were all empty.

Not just void of Sadie, but completely empty. The refrigerator had no food, and it looked like all of Sadie’s appliances were in a row on the counter. One French press, one tea pot, one small toaster oven, a few bowls, and some mugs hanging from the cabinet on hooks. Even the silverware had been sitting out. The drawers were empty.

He went up the stairs off the kitchen, on the way to what must have been the interior garage entrance and laundry or mud room. Or both, given the size of the place.

Hudson continued to call Sadie’s name, with no answer. He checked room after room—all with no furniture—until he came to the last one, at the end of the hall.

The big bed took up most of the room. By the big bay window, Sadie sat at a long table, in front of a laptop. White stringy-looking headphones plugged her ears and she nodded to something with a beat that echoed out through the room.

“Sadie,” he said. No response. The music was pretty loud.

Hudson raised his voice. “Sadie.” Still nothing.

He approached and spoke a little louder. “Sadie.”

She turned, wide-eyed, shoulders up, and pulled the headphones out of her ears. The peal of an electric guitar and drums playing
Carol of the Bells
made him smile.

Hudson glimpsed a few words on the screen.
Holiday Stroll in Somewhere, TX
. A picture of a tall, slim, silver-haired Santa Claus graced one corner of the screen.

The girl was bathing herself in Christmas.

Her spine straightened as the guitar played all the way up the scale and she put the headphones down on the desk. That did not, unfortunately, lessen the volume of the holiday rock screaming out of them. Hudson and Sadie locked eyes and laughter spilled out of them both.

“What
is
that?” He covered his mouth. “I mean, it’s great.”

“Just some Christmas music.” Her smile lit those pretty brown eyes of hers, and she reached for the mouse. Soon, the music faded out.

“Christmas for Metalheads?”

A tiny panic gripped him as a serious look passed over her face. Their easy banter had been a relief for him, and they’d fallen into joking so quickly after meeting. Perhaps he’d misjudged her tolerance for sarcasm.

But a smile finally lifted the corners of her lips and Hudson found himself relaxing.

“Trans-Siberian Orchestra, if you must know.”

“Loud enough? I mean, I’ve been calling your name for five minutes.”

She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry. I just… I’m trying to listen to all these CDs, and the noise from the saw was so loud.”

“Sorry about that. I had to saw through all the nails that held the door in place. It can get noisy.”

“No, it’s fine. I just turned it up… not a problem.”

“Why are you listening to Christmas CDs? Are you doing a concert or something?”

Sadie waved a hand at the computer. “No, I was trying to get some work done, but then I started looking for Christmas things to do in Somewhere. Have you heard about this?”

“The Christmas Stroll?”

“Holiday Stroll.”

Hudson laughed. “Yeah, it’s grown a bit over the years.”

“Have you gone before?”

“I haven’t.”

“I’m supposed to… I mean, I wanted to try out a local Christmas event. I thought this might work.”

He leaned on the desk and caught a brief whiff of her clean hair. Hudson hadn’t seen her since she’d showered, and her hair was dry, but the shampoo she used made his mouth water.

“Is that… is your… does your hair smell like…” Hudson trailed off. He wasn’t quite sure how to say,
your hair makes me hungry
, but there had to be a way without sounding creepy.

“Cherries,” she finished for him. “Yeah.”

“I’ve never smelled someone’s hair and…” He stopped himself again.
Never smelled someone’s hair and been hungry before
.

Seriously. Stalkers said these things.

“Have Yourself a Cherry Christmas,” she said.

Hudson had to stop himself from laughing. She was so serious. It was adorable.

“Is that a song?” he asked with a smirk.

“Shampoo.” She ran her fingers through her thick, dark hair and threw it over her shoulder, giving him another nose-full of cherries. “You said my hair smelled like food. That’s the name of the shampoo I used.”

“Christmas shampoo?”

She nodded, with a grave look, as though everyone in the world should be using Christmas shampoo this time of year. “Have Yourself a Cherry Little Christmas.”

“Right. Well, now you’ve made me forget why I came up here at all.”

“Why
did
you come up here?” She pushed the laptop closed. “Are you finished already?”

“Not quite done yet.” He pressed his palms into his jeans. “I need some help.”

She was out of her chair before he could get a word in. “That’s fine, I was taking a break from work, anyway.”

Sadie practically ran down the stairs ahead of him. She had on these tight leggings that accentuated her long legs, and good God, of all things, socks with candy canes on them.

The candy canes and Christmas shampoo made him pause. He wondered if they were on her breakup list—he hadn’t read it closely enough to know for certain.

She slid on shoes in the kitchen and padded out to the door. The opening let a swath of bright sunlight into the house.

“Looks like one of those rare sunny winter days.” She shielded her eyes with her hand. “What do you need me to do?”

Hudson stepped through the opening. “Let me put the weather strip down first and then we’ll need to walk the door into place.”

She followed him onto the porch. The neighbors had thankfully not turned on the Christmas song of death yet, and Hudson had contemplated minimum safe distance as far as dark was concerned.

“I’m never going to be able to listen to that fairy song again without wanting to put my eye out.” He knelt in front of the opening and Sadie laughed.

“The one with the lights next door?”

Hudson nodded. “I think I’d like to find their sound box and set fire to it.”

“Careful,” she nudged him with her knee, “I have an in with the fire department.”

A warmth spread through his chest and he stopped piping caulk. He met her eyes. “You do have that.”

Sadie paused for a long moment, her knee still on his side, and he could have sworn she pushed into him farther. She blinked.

“You seem to know what you’re doing with this door.”

He finished the weather strip and cleared his throat. He didn’t like the way he’d wanted to have her touch him again.

“I’d better know what I’m doing.” He gestured to the door and stood. “Ok, now if you pick up that side, then we just glide it in.”

“Why should you know what you’re doing?”

“I built my own house,” he said.

They moved the door and it settled tightly into the opening he’d prepped for it. Hudson smiled. He loved that moment when all the preparation yielded smooth work.

“Wow.” Sadie slapped her hands on her thighs and stepped back to admire the door. “You built your own house?”

“Yeah. It took me awhile. But after my buddy Aidan built his, I decided I wanted to build mine.” Hudson joined her and looked over their handiwork.

“So, if someone had to break down my door, I should at least be glad it was someone who could fix it.” Sadie tried to smile, but there was too bittersweet a note for it to look genuine.

Hudson opened the door and gestured for her to walk through it. “This one is a little heavier. Should hold up better if another jackass tries to break in.”

She held his eyes for a moment and smiled. “I don’t think you’re a jackass. You were just trying to do your job.”

“I’m glad I had time to replace it.” He ushered her inside the house and picked up the shims.

“Do you still need me?” She slid her shoes off and put them beside the chair. “I can stay if you do.”

Hudson turned the shims in his hands and licked his lips. He wasn’t sure if he could say that he wanted her to stay. This was all his fault, and he should be fixing it, not trying to have a moment alone with a woman who was basically a stranger, not to mention a heartbroken girl on the rebound.

But he knew what heartbreak felt like, and he felt bad that she seemed to be going through this on her own. He shrugged.

“I wouldn’t say no to some help. But if you have to work, I completely understand.”

Sadie glanced in the direction of the stairs and scrunched up her face. “Do I
have
to work? No.
Should
I work? Probably.”

He waved at her with the shims. “Then by all means, go. I can do the rest of this on my own. The only thing I really needed you for was putting in the door.”

Sadie took a few steps toward the stairs. “I can help if you need me.”

“Go. I got it. If you get bored, come on down and I promise to make fun of the Nutcracker in your presence.”

That got a smile out of her. He liked her smile more than he should. And he watched her walk away for far too long. And he enjoyed the view way too much for his own damn good.

S
adie stared
at the computer screen. She was tempted to pull the Somewhere Christmas Activities screen back up. It would be so much easier to forget spreadsheets and start planning the days until Christmas. She only had a couple of days to get through the rest of her list, and Sadie Capshaw was a finisher.

But she also needed to finish the project spreadsheets before she technically went on vacation for Christmas break. The restlessness had settled in after her dimpled firefighter had caught her listening to Christmas music.

Not
her
firefighter, of course.

Just Hudson.

She would just about get through a line of projections, and then she would start thinking about whether or not Hudson needed help, and whether or not Hudson needed a sandwich, and whether or not Hudson needed some tea.

But she couldn’t let herself get distracted. She needed to focus. Power through this.

It was getting to be right around dinner time. She had just about enough bread and peanut butter left to make one more set of sandwiches. Uncle Henry’s check should be in today’s mail.

Sadie checked the clock one more time. She should probably get down to the mailbox, come to think of it. That needed to be deposited.

It wasn’t until she was halfway down the hall that she realized she’d started smiling. And not just a relaxed, comfortable smile. There was a noticeable build of anticipation starting on her tongue and spreading through her whole body.

Why did she want to see Hudson? He was just there to fix the door. And she needed to get over Kyle. Not have a rebound.

That wasn’t on the list.

Sadie padded down the stairs and looked around. No more tools spread there. The used hand towel had been neatly replaced on the oven handle. Glasses and plates had been washed and set to dry on the dish rack.

She continued into the living room. His tool box was gone. The door was framed and the plastic had been peeled off the glass. His pack, clothes, and things were gone.

A note sat on the chair and Sadie couldn’t help losing her smile as she picked it up.

Sadie,

You’re busy, so I cleaned up and I’m headed home. I can’t apologize enough for what I did. Your front door keys are on the counter, next to your new French press.

Christmas is a hard time for a lot of people, and I wish you a good one. With a cherry on top and everything.

-Hudson

Tears stung Sadie’s eyes and she sank into the chair. Even when he was leaving, he managed to make her smile. That went a long way this holiday season.

She ran her finger over his name. It surprised her how much she’d been hoping to see his face when she came down those stairs, and how heavy everything felt, knowing he was gone.

Something struck her about the note.
Your new French press
. She made her way back into the kitchen. Sure enough, a big silver box with a red bow sat beside the fridge.

Her lungs constricted as she flipped open the tag. It read:
For Sadie, who shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes
. It wasn’t signed, but it didn’t take a Mensa to figure out who had written the note.

The tears that had threatened now saturated her cheeks. She wiped at them with the hand that held the note and Hudson’s name flashed in front of her eyes.

How was it possible that the best thing to happen to her all Christmas break might just be that some idiot broke into her house trying to save her from her breakup list?

H
udson sat
in his truck outside the fire station for a long time before he decided to leave behind the last 24 hours and re-enter his real life. Will and Aidan were both upstairs and had been texting him about his whereabouts for long enough, Hudson knew they’d eventually send someone after him.

He had sort of enjoyed being domestic. Replacing a door, buying a coffee press. It wasn’t quite jumping off the Hoover Dam, but those moments when he made Sadie smile had been almost as much of a rush as anything he’d ever done.

But he didn’t want to be the rebound guy, and he knew what it took to get over heartbreak. Maybe he’d stop by her house after Christmas and see how the door was treating her.

His phone buzzed and Hudson left his truck behind. He stuffed the device in his pocket and clocked in. The start of a shift was just what he needed to take his mind off Sadie.

“I’m here,” he called into the hangar when he arrived. He picked up his turnout gear and stowed it. Aidan popped out from behind the truck.

“Where have you been?”

“I’m late. Sue me.”

Aidan shrugged. “Too expensive. Where have you been?”

“Picking up stuff.”

Will Johnson stood in the open swinging door and Hudson could smell something on the grill. It must have been Matt’s turn to cook.

“Picking up what?” Will asked, picking up Aidan’s razzing.

“Is there something else we could talk about?” Hudson slid a hand on the back of his neck. “Like maybe catching me up on the last shift, or giving me my work duty or something that is actually about
work
?”

“You disappeared last night, man.” Will smirked. “What happened?”

Aidan slid his eyes up toward the ceiling. “We’ve got a bet board in the kitchen. We need the details.”

“I’ve got twenty on chlamydia.” Will’s brows wagged up and down. “Come on. Where have you been? We’ve been texting you all day.”

“Yeah, what happened to Joe’s Bar and Raiders’ football?”

Hudson shook his head. “It was my day off. I had stuff to do.”

His friends exchanged a look that said far more than he liked, but he wasn’t going to give in. He’d never hear the end of it if he told them the truth.

“What mountain did you climb, what river did you ride, what girl did you bang?” Matt’s voice rang out in the open garage, although Hudson couldn’t see him.

“None, none, and none.” Hudson shrugged. “It was a slow day.”

The three firemen hung on each other’s shoulders and traded elbows to the ribs. When Hudson didn’t bite, Will chimed in, “Come on, dude. We’re all out of the game. Need a little vicarious living.”

“There was no gaming. I just did stuff around the house.” He brushed past them, hoping to find one of the senior guys on the squad so he could escape. “When’s the crew meeting?”

“Ten minutes,” Will said.

At the mention of work, Aidan was suddenly all business. He caught up to Hudson and locked step. “Andy’s gone, so I’ll run it. A couple of the C-squad guys are gonna be out on the street tonight.”

Hudson almost kissed Aidan on the mouth for changing the subject. It was about time.

“I was out last night. I didn’t see anything. Neither did Will.”

“Neither did I. Because there wasn’t a fire.”

“That’s what he said.”

“You mean, that’s what
she
said,” Matt yelled. He waited for his friends to laugh, but the moment had passed. Hudson exhaled a long gust of air and found Aidan giving him one of those perceptive grins.

Idiots, all.

“Ok, I’ll see you at the crew meeting. I need to hit the head.”

“You’ll be cleaning that head today.” Aidan called after him. But Hudson didn’t care. It was his turn on the wheel, and he was fine with shit duty. Anything to get away from the nose-mobiles out there.

Something hadn’t been sitting well with Hudson. He hadn’t eaten since Sadie’s sandwich, so it wasn’t food. But he didn’t feel the same comfortable, banter-y ease that he usually felt with the guys on his crew.

The last 24 hours had left him feeling different. It was like hang gliding. You experienced a whole different perspective on the earth, and when you landed, nothing seemed the same. A dark shadow of the old world.

A day with Sadie, and suddenly he was T.S. Freaking Eliot.

Hudson sprayed his face with water from the detachable shower head, wiped his skin with one of the white towels, and smacked his cheeks a few times. He needed to get his mind off Sadie, and shut up the part of him that wanted to wax eloquent. He had a job to do, and he needed to focus.

But in the crew meeting, or while cleaning the toilets, or when eating Matt’s burgers, Hudson couldn’t stop seeing Sadie’s smile. That rare moment when she broke through her sarcasm or her reserve, and she honestly just appreciated the happy-ness around her. He had to do something to take her mind off her heartbreak. And it had to be really good.

Unforgettable.