8. Hudson
CHAPTER 8
Hudson
I scanned the hallway as I stood in front of Sofia’s door. It was too quiet. Most of the inn’s other guests were either doing some kind of Christmas activity in town or were huddled downstairs by the fire, but this kind of silence felt heavy. Almost intentional. Manufactured, even.
Trying to shake it off, I knocked on her door, my knuckles hitting the wood harder than I meant to. I shifted my weight, glancing down the hall again. Then I let out a breath, telling myself I wasn’t crossing a line by showing up like this.
The muffled sound of footsteps approached from the other side of the door, followed by a pause. I thought I caught the faintest intake of breath, and then Sofia’s voice called out a shaky, “Who is it?”
Too bad these old-fashioned doors didn’t have peepholes. I hated the idea of causing Sofia any more unease after whatever I’d witnessed at the cafe this morning. If I’d had her phone number, I would’ve texted her with a heads-up.
“It’s Hudson,” I replied.
I’d needed to make sure she was okay. I’d been thinking about her nonstop since I walked out of the coffee shop, and no matter what I did, I hadn’t been able to banish the image of all that worry etched into her face.
Especially after spending the afternoon with Ida. Earlier, when she’d texted me to come down to the coffee shop because Sofia was there, I’d come, solely for the purpose of telling Ida to her face that I had no intentions of starting something with Sofia when I’m planning on leaving after Christmas.
And yes, I knew I didn’t have to tell my aunt that news to her face when it could’ve been in a text, but that was my story and I was sticking to it. The alternative meant admitting that I’d wanted to see Sofia again.
I just hadn’t imagined walking up to such a strange scene when I did.
The door opened a crack, and Sofia’s dark eyes peeked out. “What are you doing here?”
“I got lost on the way to my room,” I said lightly, letting the corner of my mouth tilt up. “Can I come in?”
Sofia hesitated, her gaze flicking down the hall and then back to my face. She stepped back, but not far enough to fully relax. Her hand lingered on the doorknob, her eyes flicking to the hallway as if expecting someone—or something—to appear.
Finally, she opened the door all the way. “Okay. Sure.”
I stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind me. The room was similar to mine. It was small but cozy, with a quilted bedspread and antique furniture that gave it a lived-in charm. But the decorations were different, more feminine than the patterns on my walls and curtains.
My eyes strayed to the desk near the window, catching sight of a familiar envelope with a candy cane stamp. The letter itself was next to it, folded neatly, and I was instantly curious. It wasn’t that I wanted to read the letters from Sofia’s pen pal—I had my own, and I liked her a lot.
No, this curiosity stemmed from wanting to read whatever Sofia wrote in response.
“So…” Sofia started, crossing her arms and leaning against the dresser. Then, her eyes darted to a slightly open drawer, and she used her elbow to knock it closed. “What’s up?”
I hadn’t missed the way her eyes had bulged as she’d shut the drawer. Was there something inside she hadn’t wanted me to see?
“I wanted to check on you,” I said, meeting her gaze. “After earlier. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk about whatever that was.”
She stiffened slightly but didn’t look away. “It was nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a second, I thought she might snap at me. Instead, she let out a long sigh, her arms falling to her sides. “Fine. It wasn’t nothing. But I don’t need to talk about it or anything.”
“I’m a pretty good listener.”
I wasn’t even sure why I cared. I hardly knew this woman, and yet, there was something about her that made me want to be there for her. It was laughable to think of it as something so intense that I’d vow to slay dragons for her, but… I probably would if she asked me to. Maybe even if she didn’t.
Then again, this concern might not be entirely because of Sofia. It could be thanks to growing up watching Ida take care of everyone around her, always putting herself last. I’d seen how people took advantage of that kind of kindness, and it made me twitchy when I saw someone trying to carry the world alone.
Sofia pushed off the dresser and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, her fingers knotting in her lap. “His name is Dane, and he’s my ex that I told you about the night we met. But something tells me you’ve already heard that from other people, too.”
I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but I didn’t confirm or deny.
She glanced up, and judging by her expression, she got the message. “Small towns, huh?”
“I take it you weren’t expecting him to show up here?”
Her eyes went dark with something that looked like regret. “Nope. And I thought leaving Philly would mean leaving him behind for good, but I guess not.”
I stayed where I was, giving her space. I’d learned to read people long before I’d put on a uniform, but the Marines had sharpened those instincts into a skill I used daily. Every glance or shift in body language told a story, and right now, Sofia’s was written in the tight line of her shoulders and the clear hesitation in her eyes.
She was deciding whether to let me in, and I didn’t want to be the one to push too hard and make her retreat.
She huffed a humorless laugh. “We were together on and off since we were in middle school. I thought I could help him, you know? That if I just stuck it out, he’d turn into the guy I always thought he could be.”
“And did he?”
“Turns out, that was also on and off.”
My jaw tightened, though I made an effort to keep my expression neutral. It wasn’t my place to judge someone I didn’t know, but the thought of anyone taking her loyalty and patience for granted made me want to track the guy down and set him straight. People like Dane didn’t understand what they had until it was too late.
But then another thought crept into my mind, and it wasn’t a good one. I stepped forward, my hands closing into fists. “Sofia… Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “No, it’s not like that. He’s never been the violent type. Not with me, anyway. An emotional wreck, sure. Stubborn, definitely. But he’s not going to hurt me.”
“Physically,” I tacked on.
Her lips curved down in acknowledgement, but she didn’t reply.
I stayed quiet for a moment, turning over her words. Emotional wreck… Stubborn. Not violent with her. The way she said it sounded rehearsed, like she’d told herself the same thing enough times to believe it—or at least hope it was true.
I’d seen men like Dane before—guys who didn’t know how or when to let go. It wasn’t always about fists or threats. Sometimes, it was the way they chipped away at someone’s confidence, their peace, until they were too tired to fight back. The thought of someone doing that to Sofia made my hand come up on its own, rubbing a spot on my chest to ease the dull ache there.
“You know, I lied to you before,” I said, tucking my hands into my pockets.
Her gaze flew to mine. “What?”
“When I said I got lost on the way to my room,” I replied, smiling slightly when her shoulders relaxed, and light returned to her eyes. “I’m actually right across the hall. Room four.”
Her brows knitted together as she gestured to her door. “Right out there?”
“Yep. Didn’t realize it until I asked Joan which room you were in.”
Sofia snorted softly. “Aren’t there privacy laws that should’ve kept her from giving out that info?”
“In Snow Hill? Pretty sure this town wouldn’t know what to do with a privacy law.”
She smiled faintly. “You’re probably right.”
“Is it really that bad that I know which room you’re in? I could come in handy. Marine, remember?”
She snorted, and I was immediately grateful my lame boasting had lightened the mood. I didn’t always play the Marine card with the ladies, but if joking about it helped to brighten this one’s day, I was all about it.
We fell into quiet, though, and I studied her, noting the way her shoulders were drawn up tight, like she was bracing for something.
I hated it. It was irrational how much, but there it was.
I’d always been the guy people leaned on. I’d learned who I was after years in Ida’s care, helping her as much as she’d helped me. I liked being relied on—needed, and I’d honed the skill throughout my years in the Marine Corps. And though Sofia had Tommy and Grace in her corner, I doubted Sofia was letting them in.
The idea of her facing whatever this was alone didn’t sit right. It wasn’t just about keeping her safe. It was about letting her know she didn’t have to do that.
I leaned against the wall near the dresser, crossing my arms. “Look, I get it. If this guy shows up again, I’m sure you can handle it.”
“But?”
“But… you don’t have to handle it alone.” My lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might brush me off.
Instead, she looked down at her hands, her fingers knotting together as he heaved out a sigh. “I appreciate that,” she said, her voice quieter now. “But I really am fine.”
I tilted my head. “Are you?”
Her head shot up, her dark eyes narrowing. “Yes.”
“Because you’re saying that like you’re trying to convince both of us.”
Sofia opened her mouth to retort but stopped, her jaw tightening. A long breath escaped her, and she glanced away. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Tommy. I don’t need someone riding in to save me.”
Her voice cracked slightly on the last words, and I felt it like a punch to the chest. I took a step forward, softening my tone as I let my arms fall to my sides. “Can I just ask why you’d rather handle it yourself than let someone help you? It doesn’t have to be me, but you can let your brother help.”
She looked up at me, her eyes shining with frustration. “Tommy means well, but he’s always had his own stuff going on. Everyone does. So, I’ve had to figure it out on my own every time.”
I crouched in front of her, bringing myself to her eye level. “That’s their failure, not yours.”
Her lips parting slightly in surprise.
“You’re allowed to let people in,” I added, holding her gaze. “Even if it doesn’t feel natural. You deserve that. And if you’re worried about Tommy having too much of his own stuff going on, let me help. I’m on leave. I’ve got nothing else to do anyway.”
That wasn’t exactly true, but it was true enough. I could help Sofia and find myself a place to live near my new job. How hard could it be?
Sofia blinked, clearly startled by the offer. “You don’t even know me.”
“Maybe not,” I said, shrugging one shoulder. “But I’ve got a pretty good sense for people. You don’t strike me as someone who asks for help, even when you might need it.”
Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t respond right away. Finally, she said, “What if I don’t know how to do that?”
I let her words hang in the air, studying her face. She was fierce, no doubt about that. But it made sense that it wasn’t just that she didn’t want help; it was that she didn’t expect it. Like the idea of someone stepping in and staying had never really crossed her mind. I couldn’t say why that bothered me so much, but it did. And it only made me more certain that I’d be here for her, whether she wanted me to or not.
“Then I’ll just hang out across the hall,” I said with a faint smirk. “No strings. But if you ever do need backup, you’ve got it.”
Sofia stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, she smiled—a real one, soft and genuine. Her smile lingered for a moment before she looked away, her gaze dropping to her hands. “Thanks,” she said quietly.
I straightened from my crouch before her. “Anytime.”
I moved toward the door, but something made me glance back. Sofia was still sitting on the bed, her shoulders a little less tense, the slightest hint of a smile playing on her lips. I felt a pang of something I couldn’t quite name, and then it settled deep in my chest.
“Staying in tonight?” I asked, unable to help myself.
She smirked. “Why? Would you offer to be my overprotective bodyguard if I said no?”
“That depends on where you wanted to go.”
“Strolling through town, looking at the Christmas lights?”
I turned to face her fully, pretending to think carefully about my answer. “Nah, I’m a huge Christmas nerd, so I’d be off duty if you wanted to look at lights. I’ll just tag along for purely selfish reasons.”
“And what if I said I don’t believe you?” she challenged.
I considered this. “You’d be right. So… I think we need to make a little deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I promise to be straight with you. If you want to look at Christmas lights, I promise to admit that I’m coming along as your overprotective bodyguard, even if that is super cringy.”
“Deals usually have two sides,” she said, her chin lifting as she held my gaze. “What do I have to promise in return?”
I grinned. “That if you need help, you’ll ask for it.”
“I see what you did there.” Sighing, Sofia moved to her desk and picked up a book. “I’m staying in. Gonna read a little more, go to bed early. Hope I don’t get any other unexpected visitors.”
“Ouch.”
“You know what I mean,” she said with a short laugh.
“I’ll be right across the hall.”
“So you’ve said.”
The sight of Sofia’s wry smile had my heart rate kicking up as I headed for the door without another word. Ida always said everything happened for a reason. Maybe the reason I ended up here—across the hall from Sofia Sullivan instead of in my childhood bedroom—wasn’t just coincidence.
I’d spent years watching for threats, always ready to act before danger struck. Maybe it was muscle memory, but after seeing Sofia all guarded and vulnerable, the same kind of fire swirled in my gut. The same instinct to protect. Only this time, no orders were driving me—just her.
As I opened the door and stepped into the hall, I paused. For a moment, I thought I heard something—faint, like the shuffle of footsteps. But when I looked down the hallway, it was empty.
The air felt heavier than it should have, the kind of quiet that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I took another step forward, scanning the shadows near the stairwell. Nothing moved, but the feeling didn’t go away.
“Lock this,” I told Sofia, pointing at the door before I closed it quietly behind me, my ears straining for any other sound.
It was probably nothing… but still. I was more convinced than ever that I’d need to keep an eye on the woman across the hall.