21. Sofia
CHAPTER 21
Sofia
The library at the inn was easily my favorite room in the entire place. The crackling fire in the stone hearth, the soft lamplight casting golden hues across rows of bookshelves—it was like something out of a dream.
Last year, during that epic snowstorm, I’d hid out in my room to read since this one was packed with people looking for shelter from the cold. They lined the floors from wall to wall, and though my heart had gone out to them, I’d also told Grace there were probably worse places to find oneself hopelessly snowed in.
But now, I sat alone in one of the oversized armchairs with a book in my lap, and even the peaceful setting hadn’t kept me from reading the same paragraph three times without absorbing a word.
Why? Because relaxing wasn’t easy when I was alone, and my thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Two weeks.
It had been two weeks since I’d gotten the fake letter. Two weeks since the moment Hudson and I discovered we were each other’s secret pen pal. And… two weeks without so much as a whisper from whoever had been messing with me.
No mysterious notes, no trashed rooms, no unnerving signs that I was being watched. The quiet felt like holding my breath underwater—strange and uneasy, like something I knew couldn’t go on for very long before I had to come up for air.
Or die trying.
Still, I couldn’t deny how much the past two weeks had changed things for the better. Hudson had asked me to the Gingerbread Ball a few days after we’d pieced everything together. He’d been so casual about it, like it wasn’t a big deal. But I’d seen the way he’d held his breath as he waited for my answer. I’d said yes before he even finished asking.
And we’d also settled into a rhythm that felt so natural, so easy, that sometimes I forgot how new it all was. Like when we’d decorated cookies for Holly’s birthday last week. It was her annual tradition, and she took it very seriously. Hudson had tried to play it cool, but the disaster of his attempt at a snowman cookie had earned him an exaggerated round of boos and belly laughs from the rest of us.
I could still hear Grace’s teasing. “Hudson, just eat the cookies and let Sofia take over. We won’t judge you.”
He’d taken it all in stride, grinning at me as I nudged him aside to fix his sad, lopsided snowman. “It’s not a bad plan,” he’d said, snagging a beautifully decorated cookie from my tray. And when he’d brought it to his mouth and took a bit, he watched me like I was the only person in the room.
And then there was the chair .
Hudson had spent every night since I moved into his room in that stupid, uncomfortable chair. He’d insisted it wasn’t a big deal, that he didn’t mind.
But I minded.
He was tall, and that chair probably wouldn’t even be good for me to curl up in. I’d had enough of him putting himself through that for me, no longer comfortable with taking his bed while he suffered. So, a few days ago, I’d worked up the nerve to tell him he didn’t have to sleep there anymore.
“You don’t have to do this,” I’d said, standing in the middle of the room, my hands fidgeting with the hem of my sweatshirt. Well, his sweatshirt. Once I’d discovered how much cozier his were than mine, I became a full-blown sweater thief.
“Do what?” he’d asked.
“We’re adults, Hudson. The bed is big enough, and I trust you.”
His brow had furrowed, like he was trying to gauge how serious I was. “You sure?” he’d asked, his voice soft and so careful.
I’d nodded, my throat tight with nerves, but the relief on his face had been worth every second of my awkwardness. And true to who he was, Hudson hadn’t pushed for anything more than the delicious kisses that I’d become utterly obsessed with.
Some nights, I fell asleep tucked against him, his arm a solid weight around me. Other nights, I needed space, and he gave it without question.
That was what I loved most about him—he made me feel safe. Safe to figure out whatever this was between us, safe to let myself believe that this peace we’d found could last. And over the last two weeks, little by little, I’d started to think I was there.
I looked down at the book in my lap, realizing for the fourth time that I’d lost the plot. I sighed and gave up, letting my gaze wander back to the snow-covered world outside. The soft crackle of the fire was the only sound in the library, and I was just about to force myself to actually read again when the door creaked open.
I glanced up as Hudson walked in, wheeling a suitcase behind him. It was a plain black one, but the absurdly oversized red bow tied to the handle made me burst out laughing.
“What is that?” I asked, shutting my book and sitting up straighter.
He grinned, stopping just a few feet from my chair. “A gift.”
“You do know it’s not Christmas yet, right?”
“It’s four days away,” he said, shrugging as his lips quirked up and to the side.
“That’s my point.”
“Well, I couldn’t wait.” He gave the suitcase a little spin for emphasis. “And you’re going to want this now anyway.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s a suitcase. Where am I going? You ready to send me packing already?”
It was meant to be a joke, but my stomach flipped. He was starting his new job in January, and I knew he’d been looking for a place to live in Harrisburg. Had he found one? Was he leaving? And if so, did that mean he’d gotten me a new suitcase because it was time for me to pack up and head to Tommy and Grace’s like I’d planned?
He rolled his eyes, stepping toward my chair with the suitcase in tow. Then he bent, placing a hand at the back of my neck before searing me with a brief, fiery kiss. “You’re not going anywhere. It’s what’s in the suitcase that matters.”
“Ohhh,” I said, drawing out the word as he straightened. “Had me worried there for a second.”
“Open it.”
I climbed out of the chair and knelt next to the suitcase, giving him a skeptical look. “You’re really bad at this whole ‘waiting until Christmas’ thing.”
“And you’re stalling.” He nodded toward the zipper. “Go ahead.”
Shaking my head with mock exasperation, I tugged at the zipper. I had a feeling I already knew what it was, but that didn’t stop my heart from skipping a beat as I opened it. The suitcase was packed— stuffed —with books. Some had shiny new covers, their spines unbroken, while others had the familiar worn look of well-loved paperbacks.
I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth. “Hudson…”
“I wrote down which ones were ruined in the break-in before I threw them away,” he said, his voice tender now. “I replaced as many as I could. The rest…” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. “Well, I figured I’d try my luck with some new ones I thought you might like. The woman at the bookstore helped.”
I reached for one of the replacements—a copy of a coffee-themed cozy mystery with a dog on the cover that I’d reread at least a dozen times before it was destroyed.
My eyes stung, and I quickly blinked away the threat of tears. “This is… Hudson, this is amazing. I don’t even know what to say.”
“‘Thank you’ is fine,” he teased, but there was a flicker of relief in his smile, like he hadn’t been sure how I’d react and was grateful that I seemed to like his gift.
“Thank you,” I said, and then, without warning, I launched myself at him. His arms caught me mid-air as I wrapped my legs around his waist, burying my face in his neck. “You’re the best. You know that, right? The actual best. Full stop.”
He chuckled, his hands steadying me as I kissed his cheek. Then the other one. Then, finally, his lips. It was loud and enthusiastic, and I loved that it made him laugh.
That was another thing that had changed over the last two weeks. The discovery that we were each other’s pen pals seemed to bring both sides of our relationship to the forefront. We still had our quiet, emotional intensity… but we laughed so much more. Teased, joked, and used that lightness between us to banish the dark whenever it tried to creep in.
“Good to know I earned some brownie points,” he said, his voice rumbling against me as he set me down gently. “Though I don’t think that counts as a proper thank-you.”
I smirked up at him. “Oh, it doesn’t?”
“Not until you agree to sit and read one of those with me.”
“Marines can read?” I asked, feigning surprise. “Tommy always said they couldn’t.”
He lunged for me, and I squealed as I attempted to dodge his grasp. But I wasn’t fast enough, and when he caught me around the waist, he nipped playfully at my neck. “Excuse me, but you’re mine now. You can’t throw insults from your soldier brother at me. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”
I giggled, settling into his arms. “Fine. But you’ll have to teach me some of the stuff Marines say about the army, then, so I have some ammo.”
“Deal.”
We both chuckled at that, knowing it was all in good fun. Then he released me, and we each grabbed a book from the suitcase. I opted for a new one—a romance with a wintery cover that I was already dying to dive into. He wasn’t sure what to grab, so I suggested that cozy mystery I loved.
“All right, Green,” I said as I curled up in one of the armchairs with my book. “Let’s find out if you can keep up.”
“Never worry about that,” he replied with a wink that set my blood on fire.
My heart was still racing, and not just from the gift or that playful chase. It was all thanks to the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in his world.
And because of that… we didn’t end up reading much.
The next night, we tried to read together in the library again. But, after a few minutes of thumbing through pages, we abandoned our books for the plush couch near the fire. Hudson pulled me into his side, one arm draped around my shoulders while I curled up against him. The warmth of the flames was almost as comforting as the steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek, but not quite.
The book I’d picked was still in my lap, but I didn’t bother trying to focus on the words. Instead, I traced my fingers over the raised letters on the cover, letting my thoughts wander.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, his voice low and rumbly in my ear.
I tilted my head to look up at him. “Just a penny?”
His lips curved, but his eyes stayed soft. “What, you want more? How much are we talking?”
“Hmm…” I pretended to think it over, my fingers tapping against the book. “At least a buck fifty.”
“Done.” He leaned back, his hand sliding down my arm to clasp my fingers. “Now spill.”
I smiled, shaking my head at him. “I was just thinking about how much this town means to me now. When I got here, I was running—trying to get away from all the mess. But now…” I looked at the fire, watching the way the flames danced. “Now I’m glad I’m not leaving just because I flat-out don’t want to.”
He knew I planned to stay with Tommy and Grace after my reservation at the inn ran out, but of course, that plan had been made before I’d moved into Hudson’s room. We hadn’t discussed it again, but it was still nice to know I wasn’t the one leaving Snow Hill. The clock was still ticking on his end, of course, but he wouldn’t be that far. He’d visit me, or I’d visit him.
Hudson went quiet for a moment, and when I looked back up at him, there was something cautious in his expression. But then he seemed to make a decision, and I watched as his shoulders relaxed, the tension melting out of him.
He gave me one of those rare, genuine smiles that made my heart skip. “I’m glad you want to stay in Snow Hill.”
I tilted my head, not sure how to take that.
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his expression shifting into something almost sheepish. “Because I just bought a house on the outskirts of town.”
My mouth fell open, and then I shut it with a snap. “You did what?”
“It’s a fixer-upper, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hudson…” I stared at him, my mind racing. “Why?”
“Because I love it here.” He lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair away from my face. “But really… because you love it here.”
“But… why would you buy a house here because I love it?” The answer was like a wisp of smoke that I was trying to catch out of the air, and I needed him to solidify it for me.
“I didn’t think it would matter to me that Snow Hill felt like home. I figured I’d come here while on leave, snag a place in Harrisburg, and then visit whenever I could. But the drive’s really not that bad. And I figured if I was going to get a place anywhere, it should be here. With you.”
I swallowed hard, my throat clogged with emotion.
He smiled, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. Nerves? Hope? “And… I was kind of hoping you’d want to move in with me.”
My breath caught. “What?”
“It seems like the next logical step, considering we’ve been living together at the inn for weeks,” he said, his tone light and teasing, though there was a vulnerability in his gaze that made my heart ache. “And I know it’s fast, but I don’t want to imagine this— us —ending. I want you close. Need you close.”
“Oh.” It was all I could manage.
His eyes shifted, and then he gave a short laugh. “Hey, if it doesn’t work out, at least you know you’d have a room with Tommy and Grace. You wouldn’t be totally trapped.”
I stared at him, some part of me wanting to laugh even as my mind scrambled to process what he was asking. He wanted— needed —me close. He wanted us to build something here. Together.
And as much as the idea terrified me, it also filled me with quiet, undeniable joy.
“Are you sure you want to deal with that commute? It’s an hour each way,” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Hudson grinned, shrugging slightly. “An hour in the car is nothing if it means coming home to you.”
“Cheeseball.”
“You love it.”
Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. “I do love it, actually. And I love you.”
His eyes flared. “So… does that mean you’ll move in?”
I nodded.
“Yes?” he prompted.
“Yes, I’ll move in with you,” I said, my voice breaking. “I don’t want to lose this either.”
His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “You won’t.”
I pressed my lips to his, my heart swelling with a mix of gratitude, hope, and something even more profound. Then he took control of the kiss—slow and deliberate, like he wanted to pour everything he felt into each brush or stroke.
My hand slid up to his shoulder and hung on, as if letting go would make the moment slip away. Thankfully, his lips were soft, but his touch was firm, steady, and so very grounding.
When we finally broke apart, he traced the curve of my lower lip with his thumb. “I love you, too, Sofia.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the steady beat of his heart beneath my hands, I knew I’d finally found the place I was meant to be. But the best part was… I felt safe enough to trust it.