12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (52 page)

S
adie slung
the remnants of the roasted chestnuts into the fire pit. They would make good fuel for the next fire. She turned back to the house, looking forward to being alone. Hudson had ushered the deputy out the front door, and he would be headed back to work.

She couldn’t deny, she’d been happy to see him again, and the solid warmth of his embrace had gotten her through the shock of having confronted a felon. But all that was over.

People were always leaving her.

She took the roaster into the kitchen and took it apart, sliding the parts into a sink full of warm, soapy water. She wouldn’t try any more chestnut roasting. Open fire or not. It wasn’t safe.

Although, each time she loaded up the roaster, she found Hudson in her living room. Maybe she’d just keep doing that, to bring him back.

“Need help?” The deep slide of his voice combusted the tight knot in her stomach, and she turned to find him leaning against the wall, his coat off, his suspenders over his t-shirt.

He looked damn sexy, and everything inside melted.

“I think I’ve got it.” She tensed her grip on the sponge.
Dammit, Sadie. Just take the help
.

But he didn’t look deterred. In fact, he took a step toward her and the melty gooey stuff in her belly dropped lower and lower.

When he came up behind her, she could feel every nerve in her body start to burn like that Christmas tree. They were alone. The crisis was over. He should be leaving, but he stayed with her.

He stayed.

“You could just let me help.” He slipped his hand down into the water and closed it around hers. His body fit right behind her.

“You’ve already helped so much.” Sadie’s voice caught at the end of her sentence and her eyes watered. He had helped in more ways than he would ever know.

“I want to help more.” His voice against her ear sent sparklers to every tip of every part of her body. She felt like she was glowing.

Sadie turned into him, looking up into those brilliant green eyes of his. There was a closeness between them that she hadn’t felt in years. She certainly hadn’t had this with Kyle. Maybe ever, and certainly not before he walked out.

“I don’t know what to do, Hudson.” She licked her lips and noticed his eyes following her tongue. He wanted to kiss her, she could feel the electricity sparkling between them. “Is this some kind of after-effect of being in shock?”

“What’s happening?”

“I feel… warm. And… like I don’t want you to leave.”

A corner of his mouth turned up. “That is not related to the shock, no.”

“How do you know?”

His eyes dropped to her mouth. “Because I feel the same way.”

Her body wavered, leaning toward him, then back into the counter. She couldn’t breathe.

Hudson dipped his head, like he might kiss her, but he froze with his lips hovering over hers.

“I shouldn’t kiss you, though.”

Sadie found her air and opened her lips to speak. But she found she didn’t want to speak. So instead, she leaned up into him and reached her lips for his.

When they made contact, soft skin on soft skin, tongues bootlicking, breaths blending into one, Sadie’s inner Christmas carol hit a high note. She threw her arms around his neck and stretched hard against him.

Hudson laughed into her mouth and pulled back for a breath. “So much for
we shouldn’t
.”

Sadie rested her face against his chest. “I don’t
should
anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, I spent all my life doing things I
should
do, and when my perfect boyfriend walked out on me and I lost my job, I decided that
should
doesn’t matter. So I moved into my Uncle’s house after he moved out, and I took a job at the university, running one of the building projects, and I tried to cut ties with everything in my old life so I could get a new start.”

Hudson’s hands slid up and down her back. “So that’s what happened. I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t… I didn’t want to ask.”

Her limbs were suddenly heavy. Thinking about Kyle could ruin a moment faster than a house fire. But this time, there was just enough hope building inside, she didn’t stop herself talking about him.

She told Hudson everything. Kyle’s pulling away, his strange behavior, and then his leaving without a word. The whole horrible story.

“It’s been a few months, but it still feels like it happened yesterday.”

A calming sigh started low in his chest and she heard it roll up and down. Somehow, it comforted her just to hear his disappointment.

“Well, I know what heartbreak feels like, and I know from experience, it’s easiest to push people away.” He lifted her chin and met her eyes. “But if you need company getting back to normal, I’m happy to be here.”

Sadie traced a pattern on his t-shirt and reached for his neck to pull him down into her kiss again. “I’m ready to start over.”

Hudson put a warm hand on her cheek and separated himself. “I know it feels that way now, but let me just say one thing.”

She couldn’t help a twinge of disappointment. “I will permit you one thing.”

He met her eyes. “I like you, Sadie. And I like you more every minute we spend together. But what you need the most right now is somebody to drink Jager with you and make sure you get to bed safely. I’m happy to be that person.”

She dropped her gaze and tears spilled onto her cheeks when she blinked. While the pull to kiss him was real, the desire for company was more raw. More real.

“Last night was the first time I’ve genuinely felt safe in months,” she admitted, keeping her eyes down. “I can’t tell you what a gift that was.”

Hudson slipped his arms around her and rested back against the counter, just holding her. She sighed. This felt better than she had ever imagined. Just being held.

“I’m not saying I don’t have ulterior motives.” The sarcasm had laced back into his voice, and Sadie couldn’t help smiling.

“You do?”

“I broke your door down, didn’t I?”

She put her hand on his heart. This man. He was a good man. She was safe and hopeful, for the first time in recent memory. It might not be her happily ever after, but it was happy enough.

“And interrupted a very serious attempt at Christmas tradition, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Hudson’s heart beat under her ear. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“In fact, your Christmas tree fire interrupted me again.” She smiled up at him. “I’m starting to wonder if my Christmas is doomed.”

He stroked the side of her cheek and gave her a rueful smile. “We’re gonna give you a Christmas you’ll never forget, girl.”

Sadie wasn’t sure if it was the strong set of his jaw or the firefighter uniform or the emotion in his eyes, but she believed him. Instead of being the Christmas of heartbreak, she had every hope that this might be her Christmas of new beginnings.

A new house, a new job… and a new friend.

Hudson grabbed her hand. “Now, come on. You know what this house is missing?”

Sadie let him drag her out to the front room. “Um. Everything?”

“Well, yes. I mean, when your furniture gets here, that would be a boon. But you and I are going to ride the truck back to the station and then I’m gonna get a friend to cover my shift, and we’re going to buy you a Christmas tree.”

She laughed and kept following Hudson. Out the door, out of the haze of her past, out into the cold night… which didn’t feel so cold any more.

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“
I
hope
these five hot men will keep me satisfied for the next few days.” Mrs. Johnson polished her glasses with the tail of her plaid shirt and sighed. She popped the spectacles back on her nose and blinked, looking a lot like an owl. “You know what they say. Everyone needs a little romance. Especially at Christmas.”

“I think they will get you through until you can get back to the store.” Eliza Ross stifled a giggle at the mental image, then tucked the five paperback romance novels into the bag and handed it to the middle-aged woman. Christmas music played softly in the background as the scent of cinnamon danced through the store. Mrs. Johnson came in every Friday like clockwork to buy one book to get her through the weekend. Except today. Today was Wednesday, and it was snowing its butt off. The weatherman had predicted seven to nine inches of snow. Mrs. Johnson was preparing herself to be stuck at home, so she had gotten five books to carry her through.

Eliza wasn’t sure what she needed to carry herself through the cold weather. She let her mind wonder what a Christmas romance might feel like. A vision of snuggling by the fireplace, the soft glow of candles lit around the room and sipping champagne— no, hot chocolate— looked pretty good to her.

“You need to get on home, Eliza,” Mrs. Johnson insisted as they walked toward the front door. The woman paused long enough to admire the artificial Christmas tree that Eliza had set up in the window display. Eliza had decided an old-fashioned tree complete with old-fashioned ornaments would fit the décor of her bookstore. She’d spent hours stringing popcorn, cutting out snowflakes from old sheet music, and making bows out of brown burlap. Lit with oversize colorful Christmas lights, the tree was lovely.

“They’re saying this storm is going to be worse than the last one.” Mrs. Johnson reached for the door handle and paused. “When I came in, I noticed the other store owners were already closing up shop. You should too.” She furrowed her brow and gave Eliza a look of pity. “You need to take home some books for yourself dear, since you’ll be alone through all this. At least I’ve got Will in case something happens.”

She forced a smile despite the sharp blow to her ego. She knew Mrs. Johnson didn’t have a mean bone in her body, but Eliza really got tired of people reminding her that she was single. Being single wasn’t a death sentence. Besides, she wasn’t alone. She had Miss Kitty to keep her company when she read and to keep her warm when she went to bed.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to put herself out there, but growing up in a small town like Cloverton, Tennessee, people tended to label you. Once they put you in a box, it was hard to open the lid and escape.

She’d never been popular in high school, but she hadn’t been bullied either. She just didn’t stand out like the other girls. With brown hair and brown eyes, she felt ordinary. Like a vanilla wafer.

She was just Eliza Ross, the introverted bookworm who people didn’t really see.

In Cloverton, she was just invisible. And that was what stung the worst.

“I’ve got to stop and grab some cat food, and then I’ll head on home,” she assured the woman with a tight smile as she let Mrs. Johnson out. She shut the heavy wooden door and secured the two locks.

Mrs. Johnson was thirty years her senior and ran the grocery store in town. She’d once told Eliza the reason she had to read so many romance books was because her husband, Will, never did anything romantic. She’d asked him once to try to be more romantic and surprise her with a gift. He’d come home with a washing machine with a big red ribbon tied around it. After that, Mrs. Johnson had said she was going to get her romance out of books and stop trying to bother her husband since he couldn’t get it right.

“I can’t believe it’s snowing. Again.” Eliza flipped the CLOSED sign on the door of her bookstore, Fables and Tales, and watched Mrs. Johnson quick-step it to her brand new Cadillac. Her boots kicked up snow in her wake.

She lingered at the window, gazing out as the snow continued to fall, covering everything on Main Street in white. The traffic had dwindled, and the streetlamps were coming on as the sky drew darker. The mix of snow and sleet pinged against the window like tiny jingle bells.

Cloverton might see some snow flurries every few years, and the small town might even get a freak snowstorm once in a blue moon. But this was the second time in two weeks that they had gotten enough snow and ice to bring the town to its knees.

“If I don’t get a move on and get home, I’m going to get stuck sleeping upstairs again.”

She’d made the mistake the last time it had snowed. She’d heard the weatherman’s report about the amount of snow they were predicted to get, but Eliza made the mistake of not believing him.

Why should she? Cloverton never got that much snow. Just didn’t happen. Not in the South.

But after having to spend the night in the cramped studio apartment above the bookstore, she didn’t dare test her luck again. If she had to stay cooped up, she preferred to do it in the comfort of her home on Maple Street, where she was stocked up on coffee and creamer and could sit by her cozy fireplace reading while watching it snow.

“Miss Kitty, let’s go.” Eliza kept her eyes on the snowy scene outside as she spoke to her black cat with the white-tipped tail. She’d made it a habit to always bring Miss Kitty to work with her. She’d soon learned after getting the cat from the shelter that the Miss Kitty didn’t like to be left alone. In her displeasure at being left alone all day, she’d always claw something up: first Eliza’s gray-and-white reading chair, then her favorite red dress. After that, Eliza had started bringing her to work. The cat was like Eliza’s shadow and didn’t make a move without her. Except for that one time.

There was only one time that Eliza could think of when the cat had gone missing from the bookstore. Miss Kitty had slipped out the front door when a customer left. She’d finally found the cat, hours later, at the back door of the Italian restaurant down the street, digging in the trash.

“Miss Kitty?” Eliza cried louder as a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. Not again. Not today.

She raced through the store, looking down each aisle and on each shelf to make sure the cat hadn’t curled up somewhere for a quick nap. After making a complete sweep of the store, she faced reality.

Miss Kitty must have slipped out the door when Mrs. Johnson had left. Eliza had been too busy watching to make sure Mrs. Johnson made it to her car to pay attention to her cat.

Now Miss Kitty was missing in one of the town’s worst snowstorms.

“Damn.” She unlocked the door and threw it open. The blast of cold wind hit her in the face like a bucket of ice water. The snow/sleet mixture stuck to her nose and eyelashes as she dashed out onto the sidewalk, looking frantically for the cat.

“Miss Kitty.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and called out down the deserted sidewalk quickly being covered in snow. She stilled, listening for a meow from her finicky cat.

Nothing.

“Miss Kitty,” she called out again. She glanced either way on the sidewalk but still didn’t see the feline. If she headed right, it would take her by the grocery store and restaurants. If she turned left, it would take her to the antique shop and the boutique.

Her gut told her to head right. So she did.