Page 25 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

I snorted at that, the image of Hudson on a rusty old bike somehow absurd and endearing all at once. The thought lingered as I turned away to grab another round for a couple down the bar. And then, I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d chosen to hang out here tonight. Alone. Snow Hill wasn’t exactly teeming with nightlife, but did he really want to spend his night at the bar by himself when he could’ve been… I didn’t know. Doing something else?

What if he was being subtly protective, keeping an eye on me after what happened with Dane and what I’d told him last night? The thought sent a mix of excitement and unease through me. Ididn’t want anyone—especially Hudson—to feel like they had to babysit me.

But at the same time… it was kind of nice not to feel alone in all of this.

The regulars were getting louder, their Santa hats now either inside out or on the floor. I served some drinks, exchanging quick laughs and holiday banter before making my way back to Hudson.

As I approached, I couldn’t help but notice the way he wasn’t just another guy sitting at the bar—he owned his space, like the bar was there for him to enjoy, and the rest of the guests were just lucky enough to share it with him.

When I returned to my spot in front of him, he was spinning the glass of water in front of him lazily, his hazel eyes tracking me like I might disappear if he looked away. “Busy night,” he said, his tone teasing but not unkind.

I sighed, running a hand over my hair, which had been threatening to escape its ponytail all night. “You have no idea. But at least no one’s fallen and cracked a rib. Yet.”

His smirk deepened, and my chest tightened at how unfairly attractive he was. “The night’s still young.”

“Don’t jinx it,” I warned, shaking my head. “I already feel like I’m running on borrowed luck.”

The door opened as more customers trickled in, their chatter adding to the din of the bar. I glanced at the clock—barely past nine. It was going to be a long night, but with Hudson sitting there, it didn’t feel quite so daunting.

“So,” I said, wiping down a section of the bar next to him, “if recruiting is as bad as they say, why are you doing it?”

“She says like I had a choice,” he quipped. When I narrowed my eyes at him, his expression softened. “It’s one of those things where you can either take the orders and put in the time orchoose to get out. I don’t wanna get out, so here I am. It does mean three whole years without a deployment—which is huge.”

“At least you’re close to home.”

“That was pure luck.” He took another sip of whiskey, eyeing me over the rim of the glass. “I’m not bad about it. It’s nice to be near Ida. Get to hang out with my old friends. Meet new ones.”

Like maybe… me? He didn’t say it, but I felt it in the way his gaze lingered, steady and unflinching.

For a moment, I couldn’t think of anything to say. The bar seemed to fade around us, the noise dimming as if the universe had hit pause on everything else. My throat tightened, and I forced myself to break eye contact, focusing on rearranging the neatly stacked cocktail napkins in front of me.

I reached for the ticket that a server had just slipped onto the counter, glancing at it quickly before punching in the order. When I turned back to him, he was still watching me, his smirk back in place but his eyes softer than before.

“Are you always this charming, or is it just a special effort tonight?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Depends,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “Is it working?”

It was working far too well, but I wasn’t about to admit that. Instead, I rolled my eyes and grabbed an empty glass from the bar, giving myself an excuse to step away for a moment. My pulse thrummed in my ears as I rinsed it out, trying to focus on the task instead of the fact that Hudson Green was somehow undoing me with nothing more than his dry humor and quietly sensual smile.

It was pretty strange how natural this felt. Him sitting there, me leaning against the bar, trading stories while I worked like we weren’t in the middle of a packed room. After the last twenty-four hours, it was a welcome feeling I hadn’t realized I’d been craving until it was right in front of me.

But those good vibes didn’t last long before Dane’s name flitted through my mind like a dark cloud. What if he came in? What if he saw Hudson here, talking to me, and made another scene?

I forced myself to breathe, gripping the edge of the counter for a moment before straightening. I couldn’t let Dane live rent-free in my head, not tonight. Not when Hudson was sitting here, making me laugh, making me forget—even if only for a little while.

CHAPTER 10

Sofia

Saturday morning,I squealed in delight when a letter shot under my door moments after I’d finished getting ready for the scavenger hunt. I picked it up, my fingers smoothing over the envelope, almost afraid to open this latest letter.

What started as a cute Christmas activity was quickly becoming something I looked forward to as much as my next breath of air. And considering I had no idea who my pen pal was (or if he was even remotely close to me in age… or single), I was highly concerned that I might be falling for him.

Laughing at myself, I finally unfolded the paper and dove in. I always tried to read these letters slowly—to savor them—only to devour the words like they’d disappear if I didn’t.

It wasn’t my fault, though. My pen pal had a way of writing that made me forget the world and all of the annoying things I didn’t want to give any thought to. It wasn’t anything profound or poetic—it was just real. Unpolished in the best way. The kind of honesty that made me wish I could sit across from him, coffee in hand, hearing his thoughts straight from the source.

This one started like the others: warm, conversational, but with a thread of something deeper woven between the lines.

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