12. Sofia
CHAPTER 12
Sofia
After closing, I twisted the key in the lock and double-checked it out of habit, giving it a quick jiggle for good measure. As I stepped away from The Hearthstone, my shoulders sagged under the weight of the night, and not just because it had been busy. This wasn’t the kind of exhaustion you could shake off with a good night’s sleep.
This was the kind that burrowed deep—the kind I thought I’d left behind in Philly.
The drama Dane had caused tonight wasn’t even close to the scene he’d made back at my old bar. That night, he’d stormed in, ranting and raving about how he’d changed, how I’d just needed to see it. He hadn’t been physically violent towards me, but it didn’t matter. The yelling, the public spectacle, dropping his glass for it to shatter under the watchful eyes of every customer and coworker—it had almost been bad enough for me to quit on the spot.
But then, when he’d picked a fight with a customer who was trying to get him to settle down and wound up making him bleed all over the polished floors? That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. As immature as it might have been, I’d packed up my life and escaped to Snow Hill. But that was the thing about impulsive decisions. Because now, here we were… Different town, same problem.
I tugged my coat tighter around me as the cold nipped at my cheeks. It was almost laughable how naive I’d been to think he wouldn’t follow me here. Of course he had. Dane was always like this—relentless in the worst ways. Snow Hill was supposed to be my safe space, and now it didn’t feel so safe.
The sharp crunch of snow underfoot pulled me from my thoughts, my heart jumping into my throat. My fingers hovered near the pocket of my coat—and the pink can of pepper spray on my keychain—as I turned toward the sound.
A tall figure stepped out from the shadows near the corner of the building, and my breath hitched before recognition settled in.
“Hudson?” Relief coursed through me, but my hand stayed near my pocket as if my body needed a second to settle.
He raised his hands. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What are you doing out here in the dark?” I asked, relaxing slightly. “ Creeper .”
His lips twitched at my teasing tone. “I told Tommy I’d stick around and make sure you got home okay.”
I blinked. “And Tommy actually agreed to that? He didn’t insist on being the one to personally walk me to the other side of the town square?”
“It took some convincing.”
“Especially since you’re basically a stranger.”
“Basically, huh?” He asked with a short laugh, shaking his head. Then his smile faded slightly as he met my eyes. “Why doesn’t it feel that way, though?”
I stared at him, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. But one thing was clear: he wasn’t alone in that feeling. There was something about him that felt… familiar. Like I’d known him forever.
“No,” I admitted softly. “It doesn’t.”
The air between us felt heavier, charged with something I wasn’t sure how to define. My heart fluttered in a way that made me both nervous and excited, but that excitement was quickly overshadowed by a flicker of doubt. I wasn’t doing this again—falling for someone who might not be who they seemed.
I forced a smile, stepping away slightly to create some space. “I’m beat.”
He held out a hand for me to go ahead of him, then fell into step beside me.
“Anyway, maybe I’m just in my ‘make new friends’ era,” I said lightly, playing off Grace’s jokes at the scavenger hunt. “Maybe that’s why we feel like we’re clicking?”
“Your… what?”
“I don’t know how to describe it… but up until Dane showed up, it felt like I was so hopeful to start over that maybe I was looking for a way to connect with new people. That’s probably why I signed up for the pen pal exchange and why I like my pen pal so much. Ah, I don’t know, I’m just wondering if maybe that’s why we’re connecting, too? Don’t laugh, it made more sense in my head.”
Hudson nodded, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black winter coat. “I’m not laughing. It makes sense. And since I’m feeling the same way about my pen pal, maybe I’m in that era, too.”
“Really?” I asked, brightening at just the thought of mine. “I’m glad. I don’t know about you, but writing these letters feels so… easy. Light. Like I can just be myself without worrying about how it’ll come across.”
“Exactly,” Hudson agreed. “But why would you worry about how you’d come across? You come across pretty great to me.”
“Thanks.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, hoping my hand would hide the blush that warmed my cheeks. It wasn’t a line—it wasn’t polished enough for that. It was just a genuine, honest compliment. And I liked it.
“I have to say I’m surprised I’m still exchanging letters. I really thought I’d hate it.”
“Why?”
He hesitated, then looked at me like he was deciding how much to share. “When I was overseas, I got a Dear John letter.”
Anger made my brows snap together, but my heart sank at the weight in his voice. So, instead of coming out with the mean things I wanted to say about the woman who was clearly too stupid to live, I made my voice soft. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been over a year,” he said quickly, waving it off. “But it left a bad taste in my mouth when it came to letters. Didn’t want to open up to someone just to have it be totally pointless in the end.”
I nodded, my chest tightening. “I kind of know how that feels. When Dane was in prison, we wrote to each other all the time. I really thought those letters would help him—help us . That maybe if I just gave him enough of myself, it would make a difference.”
“Did it?” Hudson asked quietly as we walked through the square.
Did he realize how slowly we were walking? Was it me holding him back, or the other way around?
I shook my head at his question, my throat tightening with a mix of frustration and regret. “No. It was like pouring water into a bucket with a hole in it. No matter how much I gave, it was never enough to fix him.”
Hudson was quiet for a moment before he said, “Love isn’t about fixing someone. It’s about finding someone who’s already the right fit. Exactly the way they are.”
I had to take a beat before I could respond. His quiet words rolled over and through me, almost like they were removing some of the weight from my shoulders bit by bit. I glanced up at him, only managing to give him a small smile to show my gratitude for his quiet wisdom.
We walked in silence for a moment. The crunching of our boots on the salty, snow-dusted sidewalk was the only sound as we approached where I’d parked my car across the street from the inn. I glanced toward it for no real reason, but then I saw it—a folded piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper.
“Hang on,” I said to Hudson, carefully stepping over a pile of snow to round the hood of my car. My stomach twisted as I pulled the note free and unfolded it. The words were scrawled in black ink.
You looked beautiful tonight.
A familiar mix of frustration and unease bubbled up in my chest as Hudson joined me on the driver’s side of my car.
“May I?” he asked, holding out his hand.
I didn’t even hesitate, just let out a long breath that clouded in front of me as I handed it over.
“Dane?” he asked, his expression darkening as he stared down at it.
“Probably,” I said, but doubt crept in as I leaned closer to stare at the handwriting. It didn’t look like Dane’s usual slanted scrawl—and I’d seen it enough to know. “I don’t know, actually… it doesn’t look like his handwriting.”
Hudson frowned down at it. “Maybe he’s been drinking. His handwriting might be off if he was drunk, right?”
“Yeah, maybe,” I murmured. When I looked up at him, I was surprised to see how close we’d gotten as we analyzed the note. “Who else would it be?”
“Whoever it is, they’re not getting near you,” Hudson said, holding my gaze. “Not while I’m around.”
I pursed my lips, startled by the intensity in his voice. His hazel eyes were steady, his jaw set like he’d made the promise to himself as much as to me.
This was exactly what I’d worried about when Hudson had first talked to Dane at the cafe. Whatever this connection was between us—whatever “era” I was in that made me feel like we were closer than we were—felt tainted by Dane’s shadow.
How could Hudson see me as anything more than a problem to solve or a duty to fulfill? I wasn’t sure if his protectiveness came from genuine feelings or if it was just instinct, ingrained from years of being a Marine.
Either way, the last thing I wanted was for him to see me as baggage, something fragile and broken that needed handling with care.
“I mean it,” he added, almost like he knew I was overanalyzing everything about this situation. “It’s a good thing I’m just across the hall. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I smiled faintly. “Thanks.”
“Come on. Let’s get you to your room.”
The next day, Grace and I stepped inside the toy shop. Shelves overflowed with brightly colored boxes, stuffed animals, and toys that played jingles loud enough to make anyone—including parents who were likely used to it—go insane. Kids darted between displays, their squeals of excitement adding to the chaos.
“I’ll never understand how you can walk into these places and not immediately get a headache,” Grace said, glancing at me.
I grinned, clutching my purse like a weapon against the onslaught of sugar-high children. “When you have as many siblings, cousins, nephews, and nieces as I do, you learn to power through. This is amateur hour compared to family gatherings with our crazy crew.”
Grace winced. “Don’t remind me. I’m still recovering from the Fourth of July gathering Tommy dragged me to. I swear, it’s like he forgets I’m new to the whole big-family thing, and I need to be exposed slowly.”
I laughed as Grace started toward a display of board games, leaving me to wander down an aisle filled with action figures and cars. It was true that this toy store was chaotic and overstimulating, but after last night’s run-in with Dane at the bar, I was glad for it. Not only was I distracted from my annoyance over Dane, but I also didn’t have to think about the note on my car… or the sweet man who walked me home.
Sure, each of those things deserved my attention at some point, and I’d get there. But right now, I just wanted to get lost in shopping for the little people in my life.
A bright red firetruck with flashing lights caught my eye, and I picked it up, imagining how much my youngest nephew would love it. He was obsessed with anything that had wheels, and if it made noise? Even better. Unfortunately for my sister.
“Nice choice,” a familiar voice said from behind me.
I turned to find Jamie standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He nodded toward the firetruck. “My son loved that one. Just… don’t let him drop it. The wheels came off after less than a month.”
“Good to know,” I said, glancing at the box in my hands. “But knowing the kid I’m shopping for, he’ll probably throw it so he can pretend it flies. Guess I’ll have to keep looking.”
Jamie’s gaze softened, and he hesitated like he was debating whether to say more. “How old’s the kid?”
“Three.”
A flicker of a smile crossed his face. “Good age for cars and trucks. They’re still impressed by all the bells and whistles.”
“Is that what your son’s into?” I asked.
His expression tightened, and he looked down for a moment, his jaw working. “He used to be,” he said finally. “He’s getting way too big, way too fast.”
“How old is he now?”
“Twelve.”
“Wow, yeah. That’s big. Is he here with you?” I asked, looking around for a preteen that looked like the man before me.
Jamie shook his head, something sad passing over his face before he schooled his expression. “Nah. I’m shopping for something to mail to him. Long story, but I don’t get to see him much. I do what I can to stay connected with him, though.”
“Oh,” I said softly, unsure how to respond. “I’m sorry. That sounds… hard.”
Jamie’s lips quirked in a humorless smile. “It is. But he’s worth it.”
Something in his tone tugged at me, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the story behind those complications. Not that I knew him well enough to pry.
Jamie pointed to a different fire truck, but before he could say anything, Grace appeared at the end of the aisle. She held up a colorful wooden toy shaped like a gingerbread house with a victorious smile on her face.
“Found it!” she said, her grin wide as she waved the box at me. “It’s perfect for Noelle’s birthday. And I’m sure Holly will love that her lil one can do this over and over without the mess of actual frosting and candy.”
“Great,” I said, tearing my eyes away from Jamie.
Jamie took a step back, giving us space. “I’ll let you get back to it. Have a good one, Sofia. Grace.”
“Bye, Jamie,” Grace said, offering him a warm smile.
We watched as Jamie walked toward the counter, then Grace nudged me with her elbow. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, grabbing a different truck from the shelf. “He was just warning me about the cheap toy I was going to buy.”
“Objectively, he’s cute, and Tommy seems to like him. Did he hit on you?”
My mouth popped open. “Grace Sullivan.”
“Sofia Sullivan,” she shot back, causing us both to laugh.
I really loved my sister-in-law. She was just as annoying as my other sisters, as well as the brother she’d married. She fit in perfectly.
“Seriously, no. He didn’t hit on me,” I said.
“Hmm.” Grace gave me a look, but thankfully, she didn’t press.
“He did tell me something about a complicated thing with his son. I felt bad for him.”
Grace’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t know he had a son.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that since Jamie had been here for six months, and he hung out with the friend group I was seamlessly falling into. His situation must be really complicated for Grace not to know his son even existed.
“Poor guy,” I said, feeling for him. There was some serious heartbreak behind Jamie’s smile when he’d spoken about his son, and even though we’d only just met, I hoped whatever was going on would get sorted out soon.