12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (49 page)

S
adie awoke
with her heart pounding. The room was dark. She wasn’t sure where she was. Someone was here. After a few seconds, she recognized the shape of the room, the faint glow of the stove, then the lump next to the door.

The previous night’s events sailed into her memory. Chestnuts. Firefighter. Door broken. Man. Man in her space.

She pulled the blanket up to her chin. A familiar, fluttery feeling boiled low in her stomach. Man in her space.

She reached for the book she’d finished before she fell asleep. The fireman must have turned off the light, because the room glowed dimly, from the remains of the fire in the potbelly. She could smell the remnant of the half-cooked chestnuts, smoky and almost earthy.

There was always tomorrow for the chestnuts. When the stranger had invaded her house, she’d forgotten about the list.

Sadie opened the book and pulled it out. A piece of paper with half a Christmas tree printed on one side,
The Christmas Heartbreak List
had little green mistletoes hanging off the capitalized letters that started each word.

She was only half done with the list, but all the easy stuff was behind her. She couldn’t cross off the chestnuts yet, but she could cross off
Miracle on 34
^th
Street
, at least.

For being a supposed heartbreak-healer, there was an awful lot of romance on the list. Things she might have done with Kyle. Watching romancey Christmas movies and baking, making a snowman. Her sister must not have read the list very closely when she sent it, because there were a fair amount of things that would increase heartbreak.

Chestnuts had seemed the most innocuous.

“What’s that?” A male voice broke her silence and Sadie jumped. The list dropped from her hands and onto the floor.

Hudson. That was his name. The man who had invaded her space.

“I didn’t know you were awake.” Sadie reached for the list and refolded it. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.”

Across the room, Hudson’s mouth moved, but most of his body was shrouded in darkness. He was at the very edge of the fire’s glow and most of what she could see of him was an outline.

“You were awake?”

“I’ve been awake,” he said.

Sadie turned on the couch so she could see him without craning her head around. He was on his back, arms crossed behind his head, just as he had been when she last remembered seeing him.

“All night?” she asked.

“It’s only midnight.”

That was why the fire was still at least a little active. It had only been a couple of hours since she’d stoked it. Maybe she should put another log on, just to keep the heat going, although the house seemed to be holding it well enough.

Sadie pulled the covers back and sat up. The fireman sat up at the same time.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was dark, low, and smooth like fresh coffee.

Sadie gave a long, tired blink and yawned. “I was going to put another log on the fire.”

“I did that about half an hour ago.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, the fire was getting low and I didn’t know if there was other heating in here. I also moved your weapon into the kitchen sink.”

Sadie shook her head. “Weapon?”

“The roaster box.”

“Oh, the chestnuts.” She stifled a laugh and put her feet under the blankets.

“Yes, chestnuts.” He mirrored her movement and was on his back in double-time. “I don’t get that.”

“What?”

“Why you were roasting nuts over a box stove.”

Sadie picked up
Miracle
and flipped the pages nervously. She could be honest with him, but she barely knew him. He didn’t need to know about her past.

“Haven’t you ever heard of the chestnuts, roasting…?”

“Roasting on an open fire. Got it. But I’ve never seen anyone actually do it before.”

She flicked at the cover of the book and laid it on the ground. “Well, I’ve never had anyone kick down my door before. New experiences all around.”

His laugh was quiet, but it trilled something inside her. Sadie crossed her arms over her chest, trying to ignore the threatening emotions.

She’d been afraid of this when Gaby sent her the list in the first place. Instead of helping her get over Kyle, it was awakening things that she’d wanted to bury.

The normal Sadie Capshaw never would have stood for a strange man in her home—especially one that wasn’t really hers. She would have called the police in a heartbeat.

But heartbroken Sadie Capshaw was hungry for male attention. She wanted to prove to Kyle and the world that she could still get a guy. Why else would she sleep ten feet from a man who could have slit her throat?

“I am sorry for that,” he said.

Sadie glanced at him. His features were tight, the muscles in his arms contracted. The shadows gave him a sort of mythical profile, like an ancient warrior standing guard over some treasure.

But that would make her the treasure. Hardly.

“Hudson, right?” she said.

“Hudson Peters.”

“Well, Hudson Peters, you are forgiven.” She turned her back on him. “Good night.”

In the silence, Sadie could hear a faint echo of that blasted Christmas music. It was time for the night to be over. It wasn’t good for her to stay awake and continue to indulge these romantic fantasies. Some gallant knight protecting her virtue. That kind of stuff was for black and white movies and Jane Austen novels.

As Sadie drifted off to sleep, she tried to ignore the aching memories and the desire for her life to line up and salute Mr. Darcy.

H
udson listened
for Sadie’s breath to pattern. He counted each exhale like sheep bouncing over a fence, but it didn’t help him fall asleep. Once he knew she was down again, he rose as stealthily as he could and threw another log in the fire. She shouldn’t have left it burning when she went to sleep. That could have been dangerous.

Good thing he was around to tend it.

The scent of burning wood permeated the room. Maybe that was the source of the comfort he felt. It felt like being out on the mountainside.

Maybe he should get a wood-burning stove for his house.

He liked the plain white brick behind it, the raised black platform, and the old, nostalgic cast-iron exterior. Made the place feel like home, even though it was empty.

Hudson let the fire warm his backside. He’d stripped to his boxers and opened the ventilator in the bottom of his sleep pod, but being out in the cool air of the open living room gave him more of a chill than he expected.

On the floor beside Sadie’s couch lay the book she’d fallen asleep reading. A piece of folded paper had fallen out. Hudson bent to pick it up and saw the word
Heartbreak
in big block letters sticking out of the top.

With a quick glance at Sadie’s rhythmically moving shoulders, he slid the paper out of the book and unfolded it. The top of the sheet read
The Christmas Heartbreak List
. Below was a series of numbered actions. Some had been crossed out.

Bake Christmas cookies for a neighbor
and
Watch the Nutcracker ballet
had double lines through them, but
Roast chestnuts on an open fire
and
Build a snowman in the meadow
were left unmolested.

Some of the items were from well-known Christmas songs, while others were just random Christmas-themed actions. The open flame he’d seen from the road certainly made more sense with this list as context, but one word stuck out to him.
Heartbreak
.

He folded the paper and placed it back in the middle of the book. As he placed it back on the floor, Hudson looked down at Sadie. Was she heartbroken?

He had certainly been there. Maybe not with some chick list of things to get him over it. More Jager, less baking. But if Sadie was heartbroken, that might explain why she seemed so contentious.

A rush of exhilaration pounded through him. Maybe he could do something to soften the blow of whatever jackass had hurt her. Just as a Christmas pay-it-forward kind of thing.

Hudson went back to his warm pod and looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of something he could do to make up for his having broken her door. Nothing on that list, or she’d know he saw it. But something that would make her forget about her heartbreak, just for a bit.

That’s what drinking with his buddies had done for him when Kayla did her walk-out dance. He would do something spectacular. That was his thing. Go big or don’t go at all.

S
adie’s nose
was awake before she was. The robust scent of coffee warmed her and for a short moment, she couldn’t remember where she was. The room was vaguely familiar, but the smell was foreign.

She stood and stretched, stepping on something vaguely slippery with one bare foot. The book moved under the pressure of her weight.

Right. She’d been reading fairy tales and making chestnuts.

Being in a different bed every day for weeks was starting to get to her. Just when she thought she’d be able to wake in a familiar place, a fireman had burst into her house and she had to sleep on Uncle Henry’s couch instead of the plush, warm bed upstairs.

But she’d be back in that bed after the fireman got out of her hair.

Sadie shook her head and inhaled deeply. The scent of coffee was unmistakable. She hadn’t been dreaming.

Where was there coffee?

The bed by the door had been cleaned up and the little lounge chair, which was the only other furniture in the sparse front room, had been moved in front of the door to hold it closed. A pile of the folded sleeping bag and backpack sat on the seat of the chair.

You almost wouldn’t know someone had broken in through the door, except that the wood of the jamb was still cracked and the lock was visible. Come to that, the porch was visible, through the hole of the missing wood.

Sadie’s hands went around her body, but she found she wasn’t cold. A log still burned in the wood stove. Or burned again.

Who was this firefighter? Mr. Homemaker?

She ventured toward the kitchen, and the smoky coffee smell intensified. Just past the bathroom, she finally got a glimpse of Hudson, standing over the sink with his shirt off, splashing water on his face.

At first, she didn’t make a sound. The muscles in his back rippled and furrowed with each movement. Sadie admired the landscape of his back. She’d always had a thing for backs.

He didn’t have the scary, veiny muscles that looked like they’d been born in a gym. But the definition was enough to make her want to run her fingers across the broad expanse of his skin, and down the lines that disappeared under the white band of his boxers.

She missed the male back. It was a beautiful thing.

But before she realized it, she wasn’t looking at his back any longer, but at a belly button. And abs… and eyes.

Wide, dark green eyes.

She covered a shy smile with the sleeve of her sweater. “Good morning. Thanks again for staying.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Hudson pulled his shirt over his head. “I was just trying to wash up.”

But the movement only drew Sadie’s attention to the way his chest muscles tightened and contracted as he slid the fabric over them. He was definitely easy on the eyes.

“I smelled the coffee.”

He pointed at the stove. “I saw your French Press and I have some great coffee I carry for camping. It’s small-batch hand-roasted from this monastery in the mountains of Brazil.”

Sadie’s heart dropped to her stomach. “Is that coffee in there now?”

“Yeah. Let me pour you some.” He pulled a mug off the hooks under the cabinet.

Her face tightened and she moved her lips nervously. “Thanks, but I’m ok.”

“Really.” His smile was easy, calm. “It’s the best coffee you’ve ever had, I’ll bet.” He poured a cup and handed it to her. “Just try it. I had planned a big breakfast, but I couldn’t find any food in the house. I was on my way to the store when you… well, anyway. Here’s coffee at least. And good coffee, too.”

She fisted her hands inside the ends of her sweater and looked at the beverage warily. “I’m ok. Thanks.”

His earnest features opened and he held the cup closer to her covered hands. Sadie backed up a small step and Hudson stopped.

“I can’t,” she said.

With lips in a tight line, he put the cup on the counter. “More for me, then.”

“It’s not that I don’t… appreciate… it’s just…” Sadie looked longingly at her press and the murky liquid. “I’m allergic.”

Hudson’s mouth dropped open.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said quickly. “It’s not something you see every day.”

“I wondered why there was no coffee in the kitchen.” He leaned on the counter. “Damn, I am an ass.”

“No, really. It’s not a big deal.”

He picked up the press. “I’ll wash this out.”

Tears burned up the back of Sadie’s throat and nose, and she couldn’t speak for a moment. She knew from experience, that wouldn’t be enough.

“I appreciate that.”

He moved quickly, dumping coffee and grounds into the disposal and washing out the ruined glass cylinder. It had already absorbed the damaging liquid into its pores. She wouldn’t be able to reuse it, and she didn’t have money to replace it.

Just like the door.

The sadness crept on her without her realizing it. Maybe it was the sight of Hudson trying to wash out the French press. Maybe it was the memory of Kyle having ruined her last one with his special coffee. Maybe it was Christmas and being alone for the first time.

Dammit. She should have gone to Hawaii with Uncle Henry and his family, after all. Then she wouldn’t have been here to light the stove, or have the fireman burst through the door, or have him ruin her tea press. She’d have to rummage around in the pantry and see if Aunt Helen had left any tea bags by accident.

She might luck out.

He dried the press with the same towel he’d used on his face, and Sadie tried to laugh. It was funny, wasn’t it? But her sense of humor had abandoned her when Kyle did.

“Good as new.” He held the press out to her and she smiled, but crossed her arms.

“Thanks, Hudson.”

The glass cylinder hovered in the air, and when she didn’t take it, he extended it farther. “I can make you some of your tea, if you want. I think the water is still hot.”

“Thank you, but I don’t drink tea in the morning,” she lied.

“Well, I will just carve an apology into my forehead. I seem to be messing things up everywhere.”

“I appreciate the gesture.” Sadie tried to lift the corners of her mouth into a smile, but the tears were about to loose themselves, and she couldn’t afford to start crying in front of a stranger. “I think I’ll head upstairs and shower. I should be fine with just the chair in front of the door if you want to take off.”

His eyebrows knit together. “I need to go get the door when the hardware store opens.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” Sadie hugged herself tighter and willed the tears not to come.
Please, just go before I cry again
. She’d been crying too much in these last months. No more crying.

“It’s my responsibility. I broke the door. It will only take me a few hours to fix, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Thanks.” She backed toward the hallway as the first tear escaped. “I’m going to head upstairs and shower.”

Hudson’s steps behind her echoed along the hall, but Sadie was just about ready to run for it. She wiped at her cheek.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone.” His tone was kind and deep and it broke Sadie’s heart.

She didn’t turn around, and kept up her progress up the stairs. “I’ll be fine. Just go.”

When she reached the top of the stairs, Sadie sagged against the wall and let the tears fall. Her cheeks were soaked before long, but she heard Hudson gather his things and put on his pants and move the chair in front of the door on his way out.

Once she heard the low hum of a truck engine running, she let the tears come with more force and sobbed into her sweater. This fireman who’d breached her carefully controlled space was re-awakening things she’d tried to kill when Kyle left.

But when her door was repaired, he’d be gone. She couldn’t afford to let him in.

As Sadie peeled off her clothes and climbed into the shower, she couldn’t help wondering if the heartbreak list was doing any good. Maybe it was time to scrap the whole thing and try another strategy all together.

Perhaps the local nunnery was taking applications…