Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
I leaned into his side to pet her, no hesitation. My insides felt warm, and though I could probably claim that was thanks to the unexpected comedy show, I knew that wasn’t it. Just as I knew Nelly’s presence wasn’t an accident.
“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Right. Because it’s so much fun to chase a fucking goat while I’m trying to impress a guy,” he snarked.
I smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’m impressed. Tell me all about Nelly.”
Hudson studied me intently. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but I liked it when he laced our fingers, squeezed, and started talking.
“Nelly? She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s cute. Like you. Her brother is a little bigger. They call him Gordy, and…”
My December defenses, which had already been on shaky ground for a week or more, crumbled brick by brick, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. I could feel the fall happening, but I couldn’t stop it. Worse…I didn’t care.
Hudson told me about the goats he’d befriended and the cow he was sure had a crush on him. He talked about horses he’d grown up with in Colorado and the cranky old cat that had slept at the end of his bed every night till he left for college.
Hudson loved animals…all animals. He’d thought about becoming a vet, but he’d been needed at the ranch, and there hadn’t been enough hours in the day. He talked about losing his dad to cancer and how he’d slipped into a mode of playing it safe. He was sure that was why he’d proposed to Kylie. He said he’d heard that she’d married the yoga instructor and that his family wanted him home for the holidays.
“What do you want?” I asked, snuggling closer to the sexy rancher and the goat sleeping in his arms.
“I don’t know. It’s only a few days and part of me thinks it might be fun, but…I also think I have a bad habit of trying to please others for the sake of keeping the peace.”
“Hmm.”
“Not sure what I’ll do, but I know that I need to peel my ass off this cold floor before I’m stuck here for eternity with a drooling goat on my chest.” He stood and held his hand out. “C’mon. Let’s put the eggnog away for now and take Nelly home.”
We exited through the gate in his yard and strolled the moonlit path to the barn. Hudson dropped Nelly off with her family, then gave me a tour, introducing me to his favorite cows and a horse in the stable he’d nicknamed The Boss.
I’d always been skittish around animals. They were big and smelly and possibly dangerous. And while I didn’t think I was incorrect, with a real cowboy at my side, I felt brave enough to pet an animal who outweighed me by eight hundred pounds or more. It was invigorating and fun…the way everything seemed to be when I was with Hudson.
I was so giddy from our excursion that I forgot to decline his offer of bourbon in my eggnog and I didn’t make a fuss about the amount of work ahead of us after we’d scoured the kitchen post goat visit.
We couldn’t simply make the dough and bake it, we needed a design. We discussed various ideas while sipping eggnog, finally agreeing that a basic rectangular shaped ranch with a small barn was the way to go.
“We can bake tonight, cut the gingerbread and let it harden tonight. I recommend waiting till tomorrow to decorate.”
Hudson smiled and tied an apron over his plaid shirt. “I’m in. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
I glanced up from the recipe on Hudson’s iPad as the first notes of “All I Want for Christmas Is You” blasted from the Bluetooth speaker on the kitchen counter.
This was my wakeup call.
This holly jolly nonsense was the worst. It was everything I’d sworn off years ago—the gateway to crushing memories and debilitating fear. Dramatic, yes. I knew it. And trust me, my therapist did too. I’d funneled my nonsensical feelings into a curmudgeon persona of sorts that made the holidays palatable, but the eggnog, the tree, the twinkling Christmas lights in the kitchen window, and now…holiday music? This was too much.
This was where I’d say, “Turn that off or I’m leaving,” or perhaps I’d walk out the door without a word. I didn’t owe Hudson an explanation. I was a nutball during the holidays. Everyone knew it. They’d warned him, I’d warned him. What was he thinking?
I froze, hoping my whirling mind would quiet so I could make a decision. But Mariah sang louder and Hudson was shaking his hips, dancing as he refreshed our drinks and added more bourbon. Oh gosh, and now he was humming and he was wearing an apron and he was nice to baby goats and to horses and to me and—