19. Hudson
CHAPTER 19
Hudson
The next morning, Sofia glanced around the town square as she walked beside me. We’d cleaned up her room after our visit to the station yesterday, salvaging what we could and trashing the rest. I could tell how much it’d bothered her to throw away so many of her books, and even though I’d tried to cheer her up by joking about how she could ask Santa for another suitcase full of books, her answering smile hadn’t quite reached her eyes.
But it hadn’t been all bad. After we’d finished with her room, I’d walked her to The Hearthstone for her shift and the whole crew had joined me at the bar. She’d seemed to relax more and more as the night went on, and I was grateful she had such a good group of people in her corner.
That said, I hadn’t loved the way Jamie’s eyes had tracked her around the bar all night. Not in a predatory way, but he was clearly interested. And since Sofia and I hadn’t defined what was brewing between us yet, I had no leg to stand on when it came to the flare of possessiveness that his longing looks had caused.
At least I had the privilege of walking her back to the inn after her shift—walking her to my room. All her things were unpacked into the drawers and closet of my room, right next to mine. Some might find it odd, and definitely fast if this were solely about our feelings for each other, but this was about her safety first and foremost.
Besides, my butt had been firmly planted in a chair for the second night in a row, and I didn’t mind one bit.
Joan was glad for the new arrangement, too. She’d practically clapped her hands when she realized she could book the now-empty room. People were always looking for last-minute vacancies at the inn, and now she had one to give. It was a win-win, if I’d ever seen one.
“Hey,” Sofia said, literally nudging me out of my thoughts by bumping her shoulder into mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know. You look so… focused.”
“Maybe I am focused—on not walking into anyone,” I said, proving my point as I dodged a woman carrying a massive wreath in her arms. “The square’s packed today.”
Her lips quirked, but she didn’t press. I liked that about her—she knew when to let something slide.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fished it out, glancing at the screen. “It’s Tommy. Hang on.” I answered with a quick, “Yeah?”
“Got something for you,” he said. “We found the guy Dane argued with in the parking lot.”
I moved a few steps away from Sofia, holding up a finger to let her know I wouldn’t be long. “Who is he?”
“He’s a security guard on the graveyard shift,” Tommy said with a heavy sigh. “Works for the plaza over there. He told Dane he couldn’t park there overnight. They argued, Dane left.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Doesn’t help us much,” I said, glancing toward Sofia. She was watching a kid press his face against the toy store window, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Anything else?”
“Not unless you wanna know the guy’s usual coffee order,” Tommy said with a huff. “Pretty sure I learned that, too, by accident. This town, I swear.”
I let out a low laugh. “I’m good, but thanks.”
“Later,” Tommy said, and the call ended.
I pocketed my phone and walked back to Sofia, shaking my head.
“What’s up?” she asked, her brows lifting. “Was that Tommy? Did he have any news?”
“Nothing helpful. The guy Dane argued with that night was just a security guard. Told Dane he couldn’t park there overnight. Dane lost their argument and bailed. End of story.”
She stared up at me. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Her head tipped back, and she let out a long groan. “So… all that gossip made us think it was a clue, but really they just made a mountain out of a molehill?”
“Guess so.”
She threw her hands up. “Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? And no one noticed he was wearing a dang security guard uniform?”
“Guess not,” I said with a shake of my head. “Small towns.”
“I swear, if someone sneezed on Main Street, by the time the game of telephone was done it would probably turn into someone losing a fight with a snowblower.”
I chuckled at that. “Well, at least now we know it’s a dead end. We can move on.”
“Move on to what?” she asked, her tone exasperated but not entirely without humor as we walked around the giant Christmas tree in the square.
The sound hit us first—a sharp, authoritative shout of “Quiet on set!” followed by a chorus of footsteps crunching on what sounded like snow but definitely wasn’t.
One of my hometown’s most iconic spots had been completely transformed, with oversized candy canes framing the steps, fake snow dusting the railings, and massive red bows tied around every post. In the middle of it all, a pair of actors with cameramen circling them were locked in what appeared to be a very serious holiday-related argument.
Sofia stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes lighting up like a kid who’d just spotted Santa at the mall. “Shut up! They’re filming a Christmas movie!”
Something about her excitement tugged at me. After everything she’d been through, seeing her look so happy—for a change—made me want to stand here as long as she wanted, no matter how ridiculous this whole setup was.
I was no stranger to movie sets after growing up here, but Sofia? She could watch every second of it if it kept that smile on her face.
“You wanna hang out and watch?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the small crowd that had gathered.
The locals were bundled up in their winter best, some holding steaming cups of cocoa, others just enjoying the free entertainment. A few older residents whispered their own running commentary about the scene being acted out in front of us.
“Did you hear they’re filming four different endings for this one?” one woman murmured to her friend.
The friend nodded. “I hope they pick the one where she leaves him and goes back to her high school sweetheart. This guy’s eyebrows are too distracting. I can see them from here!”
“Pretty sure they’re not supposed to be invisible, MaryAnn,” the first woman replied dryly.
Sofia stifled a laugh, and I had to admit, it was contagious.
The actors on set were giving it their all, though. The man was one of those classically handsome guys with the kind of jawline that probably came with a Hollywood price tag. Though, he really did have some seriously bushy eyebrows. He pleaded with the leading lady, who stood with her arms crossed and a look of defiance on her face.
“I can’t believe you’d think I’d skip Christmas for a business meeting!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying thanks to the now-quiet set.
“Oh, please,” she shot back. “You skipped last Christmas, and the Christmas before that. This is about more than just one holiday, Chester. It’s about us!”
“Wow,” Sofia whispered, her eyes wide as she leaned a little closer to me. “They’re really going for it.”
I smirked at her comment as the feel of her breath on my skin sent a flash of heat up my neck. “Think he’ll win her over?”
“Probably. It’s a Christmas movie. I bet they kiss under the mistletoe before the next commercial break.”
“They’re filming a movie. No commercials.”
“Details,” she said, grinning up at me as she kept her voice as low as she could. “But seriously, how much do you wanna bet this scene ends with fake snow falling and as they realize their love is stronger than the nonsense they’re fighting about?”
“Too predictable,” I whispered back. “I’m betting the dog shows up with some conveniently placed mistletoe.”
“Deal,” she said, shaking my hand like we were settling on high stakes.
We stayed like that for a while, her hand still in mine as we watched the overly dramatic scene unfold. Sofia laughed softly at something one of the movie characters said—a cheesy, over-the-top line about love and miracles.
I couldn’t help but watch her. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed. The way she let herself enjoy the moment, even with everything hanging over her head.
It hit me then, like a punch to the gut: the lengths I’d go to make sure she stayed this way. Safe. Smiling. Herself.
Whoever had chosen to mess with her—whoever was watching or waiting or whatever else their twisted plan involved—they wouldn’t hurt her. Not while I was around.
Sofia turned, catching my gaze, and cocked her head. “What’s with the look?”
“What look?”
She narrowed her eyes, but her lips twitched into a smirk. “You’re so serious. Relax, Hudson. Let’s just forget about the drama for today.”
“I’ll work on it,” I said, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto my face. “For you.”
“For me,” she echoed, her grin widening. “There’s a real softie under that stoic Marine mask, isn’t there?”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
Sofia laughed quietly again, and even if it wouldn’t last, I’d take this moment. And I’d do everything I could to make sure she got more like it. Because no one—least of all me—was ready to see Sofia Sullivan lose her spark.
Before long, the director yelled for the cast and crew to take and break, and Sofia sighed contentedly. “This was fun. I still can’t believe this is how Holly and Nick met. I mean, how many people meet their future spouse while filming a movie? It’s like something out of, well… a movie.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, pretty rare. Guess it worked out for them, though.”
“It’s so romantic,” she said, her gaze drifting back to the set. The lead actors were now walking through fake snow toward their trailers. “But Holly said it wasn’t all candy canes and mistletoe at first. Nick had this whole thing about movie stars thanks to his ex. He thought they were all shallow or fake like she was. It took him a while to see that Holly was the exact opposite.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I was in the Marines by the time all that went down with his ex, but Ida said it was bad. I’m not shocked he was nervous to go there again.”
Sofia shrugged. “Holly said he came around at just the right time, so I guess that’s all that matters.”
I looked down at her. “Funny how they didn’t have that instant click, but they ended up together anyway. Meanwhile…” I paused, but the thought had already taken root. “It kinda feels like we skipped all that getting-to-know-you stuff and went straight to… this.”
Her lips parted slightly, and she glanced at our joined hands and then back up at me. “Yeah,” she said softly. “It’s different. Good, but different.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to say much more without making it weird. I didn’t fully understand it myself—the way she felt so familiar, like she’d already been part of my life for years.
But there it was.
And judging by the look in her eyes? She felt it too.
Just as I was about to ask if she was ready to get out of the busy square, the director called everyone back to set, and the fake snow machines started up again. A flurry of white cascaded over the actors as the crew called out directions. Then, the lead couple stepped into the gazebo, and the man pulled out a small velvet box.
Sofia gasped beside me, clearly caught up in the moment.
“Guess you were right,” I murmured, leaning closer. “Fake snow and a proposal, right on cue.”
Her laugh was light, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s strange, though. This scene feels like proof that sometimes things look perfect from the outside, but underneath…” She trailed off, her brow furrowing slightly.
I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, but before I could ask what was on her mind, she turned back to me, her expression shifting to something more thoughtful. “Do you think that’s why Holly and Nick worked out? Because they didn’t have that instant connection? Maybe they had to fight for it a little, and that made it stronger.”
“Maybe. But sometimes things just fit.”
Sofia looked at me for a long moment, her lips curving into a faint, almost wistful smile. “Yeah, sometimes they do,” she whispered. Then her smile dimmed. “But also, how do people trust that it’s even possible to feel connected to someone they barely know? Like… the pen pal thing. What if…” She trailed off, her voice still hushed so she didn’t disrupt the scene. “What if the pen pal and the break-in are connected? What if I’ve been writing to the person who trashed my room?”
And just like that, the moment shifted, the weight of her words settling over both of us. For a second, I couldn’t respond.
“It’s crossed my mind,” I said carefully, watching her out of the corner of my eye. “Since the letters were missing from your room, I wondered if maybe he took them so nothing would be traced back to him.”
Her face fell. “Oh.”
“But then,” I said, pulling her back from the set so I could make sure she heard me as I shut down her fears, “I remembered that Ida and Joan were the masterminds behind the pen pal pairings. There’s no way they’d set you up with someone who would do this to you. And besides, they know who he is, so what would be the point of taking back his letters to protect himself?”
Sofia nodded, seeming to process my words. “Okay. That’s good. Because like I said before, I really like my pen pal. It sounds silly, but his letters… they feel like this little escape. Like I can be myself without overthinking everything.”
I turned to face her fully. “And now?” I asked with a teasing grin. “Now that there’s something happening between us? What does that mean for your crush on your mystery pen pal?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You mean besides the fact that he might be a criminal?”
“He’s not,” I said, letting my grin tug at the corner of my mouth. “Trust me. Now, do I have some competition thanks to this guy?”
“I don’t know,” she teased, tapping a finger against her chin. “Pen pal guy is pretty great. He told me my handwriting was cute, and that I had an interesting way of looking at the world. You’re gonna have to step it up, Green.”
I stilled. Maybe it was the cold keeping my brain from firing on all cylinders and I hadn’t heard her right, but I swore I’d said something like that to my pen pal. And thanks to my priorities being locked on Sofia’s safety, I’d completely forgotten to hold my pen pal’s letters next to Sofia’s prison letter to see if they were simply similar… or an exact match.
But now— My pulse jumped. Did this mean… ?
I shook my head, wanting to be sure before I said anything.
“I’ll step it up,” I replied with a wink. “Just wait.”
If I was Sofia’s pen pal, that meant she was mine. And I’d felt the same way she had—like the letters were a lifeline. Could we really have been building something lighthearted on paper even as this intense, in-person attraction had formed?