Chapter 15
HUDSON
Ihadn't expected Ayla to include me in their bedtime ritual. I was a little nervous because I'd never read a story to a child before. I wasn't sure what to expect. Ayla climbed onto her bed and patted the spot next to her.
Angela grabbed the book and sat on one side.
I stood on the other side of the bed, not sure where to go because a large elephant took up the space. The walls were white, but the bed now had a pink comforter and a ton of stuffed animals.
Ayla shoved the elephant off the side of the bed. "You can sit here."
I sat gingerly on top of her comforter, crossing one leg over the other. It was surprisingly cozy.
Ayla took the book, holding it open, and Angela started reading, "It was the night before—"
"Can Hudson read it?" Ayla interrupted.
My heart rate picked up.
"Sure," Angela agreed, looking over at me.
I cleared my throat, then read the familiar cadence of words, the rhythm reminding me of what it felt like to be a child excited for Santa to arrive.
There had always been a mad rush in the morning to wake up first and then get downstairs.
Mom had to instill rules about when we could go downstairs—not until everyone was awake—and then only together.
I ended the story with the familiar "Merry Christmas, and to all a good night" and closed the book.
At some point during the story, Ayla's head had dropped to my shoulder. It was a sweet gesture.
I looked at Angela over Ayla's head. "You'd better go to sleep so Santa can come."
Ayla rolled her head off my shoulder and lowered herself onto the pillow.
I stood at the side of the bed.
"I hope I get my bike."
Angela tucked her in, giving her a hug and a kiss. "I'm sure you'll love all your presents."
I edged toward the door, not wanting to interrupt their bedtime routine when Ayla held out her arms to me. "Can I have a hug?"
I looked at Angela for approval. At her nod, I moved closer, leaning down to wrap my arms around Ayla.
"Merry Christmas, Hudson."
My throat tightened at her sweet words. "Merry Christmas, Ayla."
She smiled and snuggled under her blankets.
Angela turned out the light and closed the door.
I followed her down the stairs.
At the bottom of the steps, she whispered, "We have to wait to set things up until she's asleep. I'm not going to be the one who ruins Santa for her."
"I don't have anywhere to be." In years past, I stayed at my parents' until late, then went home. But if felt different with Angela and Ayla living here. It was warm and inviting.
"What do you want to do?" I followed her into the living room.
"I always watch a holiday movie on Christmas Eve."
"That sounds good to me." I got a fire started in the fireplace. It was weird being here. It wasn't really my house anymore.
She turned on the TV, and I joined her on the couch. "I could probably get the bike inside myself if you have somewhere to be."
"I'll help you get it out." I'd told Ford that I wanted to make a move. When would I get another chance?
She patted my thigh. "I really appreciate your help."
My throat was suddenly dry. "What would you have done if I didn't answer your call?"
She shrugged. "I would have learned how to put a tire on a bike."
"You would have figured it out. I'm glad I was available." I wouldn't be here now if she hadn't made that call.
"We just need to wait about thirty minutes, and then we can get the bike, and you can get out of here."
"I almost forgot. We need to put out the cookies my mom gave us and some milk for Santa." I got up to head into the kitchen where I'd placed the container of cookies.
Angela reached into the cabinet and pulled down a small plate decorated with holly.
I arranged the cookies on the serving dish while she poured milk into a Santa mug. "You have carrots for the reindeer?"
"I do, actually." Angela moved to the fridge and pulled out baby carrots.
I bit the ends off each carrot so it looked like a reindeer had eaten it. Or at least I hoped it looked that way. Then I sipped the milk.
Angela grinned. "You're fully committed to this Santa thing."
I huffed out a laugh. "I'm not going to be the reason why Ayla doesn't believe in Santa. That credit is going to a boy in her class."
Angela rolled her eyes. "Every time she asks if Santa is real, it's always a boy at school saying stuff."
"It's always the boys. I'm not ashamed to admit that. Ford ruined Santa for us."
She inclined her head toward the container of cookies. "Your mom saved me with these cookies. I waited until the last minute to bake them this year."
"Yeah, she's the best." I took another cookie off the plate and ate a bite.
She sat on a stool at the island between us. "Thanks for including us in your family celebration."
With the dimmed lights, it felt intimate. "No need for thanks. From what I remember, you were reluctant to come."
Her lips twitched. "Your family made me feel included."
I nodded. "Aspen loves to have more women around. She was outnumbered growing up."
Angela smiled. "Is Cooper one of you at this point?"
I nodded. "He's closer in age to Maverick and Morgan, so I don't really know his story, and Mom told us not to pry. He was always over, playing and eating meals with us. He became like another brother. I can't remember a time when he wasn't there."
She looked away. "You know your family is kind of amazing."
"They're pretty great. Although they can be annoying." They had been on their best behavior tonight because we'd had guests.
"I imagine that you were in each other's business growing up."
"Aspen asked me about my love life.
Her brow rose. "Are you dating someone?"
I cocked my head and considered her. Her question made me pause because what if she wasn't attracted to me? It would be the shortest pursuit of all time. My brothers would never let me hear the end of it. "You really don't know?"
She shook her head slowly. "Know what? Explain it to me."
"I asked you the other day what it would take to win you over." I braced my hands on the counter. "I'm here because I like you."
Her eyes widened.
"I wouldn't have invited you to church or to my parents if you were just a client.
I don't feel a sense of obligation because you're a single mother.
I like you for who you are, the woman I saw cleaning up the water when her shop flooded, the one who sat on that chaise lounge in lingerie, confident despite her nerves. I like everything I've seen."
She bit her lip, and I was entranced with the fullness. "Is this because you walked in on my photo shoot?"
I laughed and shook my head. "I'm not going to lie to you. That image plays in my nightly fantasies. I couldn't forget it if I tried. It was the catalyst for me wanting to get to know you better. You were nervous to pose, but you drew on a confidence that came from deep within you."
"I was out of my comfort zone. It was all Wynter. She had this vision of a sexy shot, and I couldn't dissuade her."
"I've seen your website; it turned out classy." I wanted to use it as the screensaver on my phone, but what would I say if my brothers or even Ayla saw it? No, her home page was available whenever I wanted to see it. It would live on in infamy inside my head too.
"You want me?" Her voice was soft.
"You mean physically?" I asked, and at her jerky nod, I ran a hand through my hair. "Of course I want you. You're sexy as hell. But there's so much to you. You're an amazing business owner, mom, and a friend. You're the whole package."
"You make me sound like some kind of a super woman."
I moved around the counter, my hand hovering near her hair, wanting to touch but knowing I'd stop if she asked. "None of us are perfect, but I think you're as close as I'll ever get."
She let out a shaky breath.
"I want to know if there's something here. Do you feel this electricity between us?" I hadn't even touched her, and the energy was palpable.
She nodded.
I let my hand drop to her hair. It was silky soft, just as I'd imagined. I couldn't believe we were standing this close, and I was touching her. "I'm not in any rush. I'm prepared to play the long game."
Her eyes flashed with heat, and her hands curled around my neck.
She kissed me.
I hadn't expected that. It was like a bomb exploded in my head. There was white hot lava flowing through my veins.
I gripped the strands of her hair, afraid that she'd pull away.
I'd never felt this strongly about anyone. I wasn't sure what I would do if she said this was a mistake. That she didn't like me after all.
Assuming this was the only chance I'd get to convince her of us, I deepened the kiss. When her lips parted on a gasp, I slipped my tongue inside, exploring and delving into her sweet heat. Her body was pressed against mine, and my dick was on board with taking this further.
I wasn't going there tonight. Not on Christmas Eve.
I slowed the intensity of the kiss, easing back. Her breath mingled with mine, jagged and uneven.
"We should bring in her bike," she said softly, and for a second, I wasn't sure what she was talking about.
I stepped back, letting my hands fall away from her, my voice gravelly. "You think she's asleep?"
Her gaze flitted to the clock above the stove. "By now, yeah."
"Let's get it." I needed the cooler air. It was too hot inside, and if I was near her, I was going to kiss her again. I wasn't going to take things further tonight. Not with Ayla asleep upstairs and listening for Santa.
I remembered what that was like. Sometimes it was hard to sleep. And I didn't want her wandering around the house looking for Santa but finding her mom kissing me.
"I can get it if you want to stay inside where it's warm."
She hesitated already pulling on her coat. "Are you sure?"
I nodded. "Let me do this for you."
She put her coat back on the hook. "Yeah, okay."
She was slowly getting used to me doing things for her. I wanted her to rely on me, to be the first person she called. Her ex probably allowed her to do all the mental and physical labor in the marriage.
That made my jaw ache. I didn't like that for her at all. If I could do this one thing for her, so she didn't have to go out in the cold, then I would.
She opened the door and said, "Just be quiet."
I nodded and slipped outside. She closed the door behind me, and I took in a much-needed breath of cold air. I let the air out slowly, reveling in the chill. I needed space after that kiss.
I hadn't expected it to be so potent. My lips still tingled, and my blood ran hot. I wanted to go in there and press her against the door, kissing her until her lips were swollen and she forgot about any man that came before.
But I told myself I'd go slow. I had to take deep breaths until I could go in there and not jump her as soon as she opened the door.
I opened the shed, taking my time to wheel the bike out. I'd never been involved with giving presents to a child on Christmas, but I loved everything about it. The excitement before bedtime, reading her the classic story, and putting her presents under the tree.
I secured the shed door, then wheeled the bike across the lawn, careful not to jostle the bell on the handle. The shop had tied a large red bow on the handlebars. Ayla was going to love it.
I wondered if we'd go bike riding together sometime in the spring, but I was getting ahead of myself. It was one kiss. It didn't necessarily mean forever.
The only problem was that I was in danger of falling for these two, and if it didn't work out, I'd feel emptier than before. I just figured out what I've been missing, and I didn't want to risk losing it.
I carried the bike up the steps.
Angela opened the door for me.
I rolled the bike as quietly as I could over the hardwood floors, setting it up by the tree. "Do you have other presents you want to put out first?"
She nodded, waving for me to follow her up the stairs and down the hall to the primary bedroom. She opened the closet, pulling out a large bag.
I hefted it over my shoulder while she grabbed a smaller one, presumably the items for Ayla's stocking. I'd bought a present for Ayla, but I wanted to give it to her tomorrow.
Downstairs, we knelt by the tree, slowly pulling out each present, and arranging them nicely under the bottom branches.
Then Angela put the smaller items in Ayla's stocking that hung from the mantle.
"Where's your stocking?" I asked her.
She just laughed. "I haven't had a stocking since I lived at home. But it was always my favorite part of Christmas. My mom would wrap even the smallest presents so that it took longer for me to open everything."
"It seems like there should be more stockings hanging there." If she were mine, I'd stuff her stocking every year. I'd never forget that childhood memory or how much it meant to her.