They stepped inside the mill’s big, sliding, barn-sized door, moving it closed again behind them once they were safely out of the cold. They stood right there, though, and took in the veritable explosion of color, scent, and sound before them. It might be cold and snowy outside, and only two days past Christmas, but the mill was alive with both crafters and shoppers alike. It was toasty warm, so they both slid out of their coats and hung them on the fanciful rows of knobs and painted hangers that were arranged like a giant peg-board on the wall just inside the door.
“Go talk to Hudson while he’s on break, and I’m going to go lose myself in all the pretty,” Katie said. “I’ll wind my way back to the pub in a few hours and we’ll have lunch.”
“Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I was thinking we could—”
“You spent a good thirty minutes raving about the man’s breakfast, and that was after you all but wrote a sonnet about his coffee. I’m not leaving here without a taste of his cooking.”
“You have tasted his cooking—he catered the wedding,” Moira reminded her, but Katie merely stared her down. “Fine, fine, but if you even give the slightest indication you’re going to try and play matchmaker, lunchtime is over.” She turned to head down the passageway that Hudson had told her to take.
“Hudson Walker,” Katie said, and Moira immediately turned back around, thinking he’d walked up behind them. But there was no one there. She turned to Katie, a questioning look on her face.
Katie merely looked smug as she smiled and said, “Judging by the look on your face at the mere mention of the man’s name, I won’t need to be playin’ matchmaker, lass.” Her brogue got deeper the more she teased.
Moira waved her away. “Go play with pretty things. The very last thing I’d ever do is let myself fall in love while I’m away on holiday. Again.” In the face of Katie’s beaming certainty, Moira finally capitulated and confided in her best friend. “And most definitely not with someone who makes me think, makes me laugh, makes me breakfast, and, okay, okay, sounds like an ad for the perfect Down Under getaway.” She fanned her face and wiggled her eyebrows, then laughed and said, “Happy now?”
Katie’s eyes gleamed even more brightly at that and Moira knew her admission would just egg her friend on, but once Katie MacMillan set her mind to something, she wasn’t likely to be dissuaded anyway.
“Hudson Walker,” Katie said again.
“Ha, ha,” Moira replied dryly. “You’ve had your fun and I’ve admitted all.”
“No,” Katie whispered, and dipped her chin while nodding toward something past Moira’s shoulder.
Heat flushed Moira’s cheeks, along with a goodly part of the rest of her as she turned to find Hudson standing right behind her. How much had he heard?
From the twinkle in his leonine gold eyes as he met her gaze, she suspected the answer was all of it. Seriously, Karma?
“G’day, Moira,” he said, then glanced at her friend. “And Katie, right? Pippa’s sister?”
“Aye, that I am.” Katie stepped toward him with her hand extended. “I’m glad we had the chance to meet.” She glanced at Moira, then back to Hudson, a broad smile on her pretty face. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Hudson glanced at Moira, his smile spreading to a grin. “Have you then?” he asked, his gaze lingering on Moira a moment longer, before he looked back at Katie. “Would you care to join us? Boring legal stuff, I’m afraid, but—”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m off on a shopping spree. I’ve folks at home who still need Christmas presents and with so much wedding furor, I didn’t really have time to take care of it all before leaving for the States.” She looked around. “I’m sort of glad now. I think this will be the perfect way to bring my friends back home a little bit of Blue Hollow Falls.”
“You’ve definitely come to the right place.”
“Will you be cooking later? I was hoping for lunch when you and Moira are done.”
“Katie—” Moira began, but Hudson responded before she could say more.
“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”
“Perfect,” Katie replied, beaming.
“I’ll text you when we’re done,” Moira told her.
“Take your time,” she said, grinning at Hudson, then winking at Moira before literally skipping off toward the stalls and small shop spaces.
Moira laughed despite her mortification and shook her head.
“You have good taste in friends, too,” Hudson said.
Moira turned back to him. “Thank you,” she said, knowing he was referencing their conversation of the day before.
“And you clean up quite nicely,” he said, taking in her black slacks and teal blue sweater. That twinkle was back in his eyes when he added, “Though I’ll always have a soft spot for emerald-green silk from now on.”
Moira sent him a too-bright smile and batted her lashes. “I’ll be happy to loan you mine anytime you like.” They both chuckled. “In fact,” she added, more drolly now, “after all but living in it for a day and a half, I’m fairly certain I’d be fine if I never saw it again.”
“Today’s tired recollection could be tomorrow’s cherished memory,” he told her, still smiling.
Before she could decide what he might have meant by that, much less how to respond, he turned and headed down the side corridor she’d started toward earlier.
“Sawyer said we could use his office,” he told her. “He’s off for the week with his family.”
Moira followed him toward the back of the big building.
He opened Sawyer’s office door for her and they both stepped inside. She turned back as he closed the door, surprised to see his expression had grown serious.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did something else happen with the case?”
“It’s not that. There’s something I should have told you yesterday.”
Moira’s heart sank, and she couldn’t even say why. She and Hudson weren’t a “thing” no matter how much Katie might wish they were. So, there was really nothing he could possibly say that could disappoint her, much less hurt her. Then why are you braced like you’re about to get a body blow? “What is it?” she asked.
“When I went to the hotel bar Christmas night, I didn’t run into you by accident.” At her look of surprise, he added, “I was telling the truth when I said I looked for you at the bar. Actually, to be fully forthcoming, I watched you with Taggert and only intervened when I thought you might need an assist.”
“Thank you?” Moira said, feeling as confused as she sounded.
“Seth asked me to go check on you, before he and Pippa left for the airport. He thought you might need cheering up.”
Moira’s cheeks warmed and she ducked her chin, trying not to feel mortified. “You already knew then. About Finn,” she said, staring at her feet, the floor, anywhere but up at Hudson Walker.
“No. Nothing like that. He wouldn’t share anything you wanted kept private. He just mentioned you’d had a tough go over the past few months and might not feel much like celebrating. I was at the reception and thought you looked like you were having a fine time. I only came down to Turtle Springs because your brother and I have become mates over the past year, and he’d asked, so I honored the request. When I saw you at the bar, still in your dress, I decided to stay on a bit. Things were pretty ramped up in there.” He smiled then. “You were holding your own, though. Even with Taggert.”
Feeling like she was destined to be perpetually embarrassed in front of this man, Moira listened politely to everything he said, then nodded. “Thank you. And if I haven’t properly thanked you for stepping in when you did, then please accept my sincere gratitude. I can typically hold my own, but I admit things were not looking good.” She looked up at him directly then. “I’m sorry about your cuts and bruises, too. That was way above and beyond the call of duty, what you did for me, and I’m truly grateful for your help.” She let a brief smile curve her lips. “I bet the next t
ime my brother asks for a favor, you’ll think twice.”
“I’d do it again without hesitation,” he said, his expression still as serious as it had been since he’d begun his confession. “Moira—”
“Hudson, listen . . .”
“Don’t tell me to find another lawyer.”
“I’m not your lawyer,” she reminded him, as she had when he’d asked her to meet him at the mill. “I’m just here to help explain the options you have, so you can make an informed decision. Once you hire someone, they can give you more specific guidance. Like I said—”
“Moira,” he said, cutting her off. He hadn’t said it impatiently or urgently. He’d said it plainly, quietly, which had a far more unsettling effect on her.
She was afraid to meet his gaze then, afraid of what she’d see there. Katie had been right about him being attracted to her. Moira just hadn’t wanted to admit it, much less trust it, or even consider acting on it. The relief she’d felt when his big revelation was simply that her brother had put him in her path . . . yeah, that was a big ol’ sign that it wasn’t just Hudson who was interested in more than legal advice.
She wanted to tell him she was flattered. Because she was. She wanted to tell him that she was interested, too. Because, deny it all she might, she was that, too. No matter how hard she’d tried not to be.
The truth was, Hudson Walker made her feel all the same fluttering attraction that Finn had, but if she were being honest with herself, Hudson had already touched parts of her that ran so very much deeper than anything she’d experienced with Finn, or anyone else for that matter. Other men had made her laugh, had even charmed her. Hudson also made her think. He challenged her to push her boundaries, to look beyond the obvious. He made her feel like maybe being untethered wasn’t so much terrifying as it was exciting.
And yet, how could she possibly consider starting anything with him? Not with the rest of her life in limbo, and definitely not with someone who lived on the opposite side of the country from her. What she needed in her life right now was stability, and focus. She needed to find her footing, then stick to it. If she were to look up into Hudson’s beautiful face and oh-so-serious golden brown eyes, she knew she’d feel the opposite of all of those things.
And don’t forget, you’re going back home on New Year’s Day.
“Moira,” he said again, softer this time, and from a spot much closer than he’d been inhabiting moments ago.
To his credit, he didn’t touch her, didn’t do anything other than wait. When she finally looked up at him, it was all there. The desire, the hope, the fear. It was that last part that was a bit of a kick to the gut. Finn had been sad that he’d hurt her, but sad wasn’t the same as hurt, much less heartbroken. His heart had never been in play. From the look on Hudson’s face, visible despite the scrapes and bruises, the ball was in her court this time. He was throwing his hat in the ring. And maybe his heart along with it.
You’re so much braver than me, she wanted to tell him, but what came out was, “I don’t know if I can.” Her voice was not much more than a whisper.
She saw his pupils go wide at that admission from her, and it made her heart squeeze inside her chest.
“Do you want to?” he asked, his voice raspier than she’d ever heard it.
She took a steadying breath. It would be kinder to them both if she lied and said no. End it before it even began. But that would be an insult to him. She’d only known him for a day, and she already understood him well enough to know he’d want her to be honest, no matter the fallout. “You listened to everything I confessed to you yesterday,” she said, by way of response. “Even if I said yes, I’m clearly not ready to try again. I mean . . . you’d worry it was just a rebound and, heck, I’d worry it was just a rebound and—”
He did touch her then. He cupped her cheek and gently tipped her face up to his. “So, that’s a yes, then?” He’d said the words seriously, but the amusement and affection in his eyes were what undid her.
She couldn’t help it—she smiled. He really was good at cutting right to the core of things. “And a no,” she said. “Weren’t you listening?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid it was all buzzing inside my head after you said yes.”
“I said if I said yes.”
“Come here, lawyer lady,” he murmured, and started to lower his head to hers. He paused before his lips touched hers, though. He wasn’t going to do anything she didn’t want him to do.
Oh, but I want him to do, all right. So many things. That he wanted to make sure of her consent only added to that to-do list.
When she didn’t close the distance between his lips and hers, he said, “My philosophy has always been you can’t know if you don’t try.” He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “There’s just one question—is it worth failing to find out?”
“I’ve got two strikes against me in the failure column at the moment, Hudson. Maybe I shouldn’t risk a third,” she said, even as her gaze dropped to his mouth.
She thought she heard him groan a little then, and his fingertips slid into her hair, stroking her scalp, causing a little moan of her own to slip past her lips. His hand was broad and warm, his touch surprisingly gentle for all the strength she felt in his fingertips. She supposed that came with his job, the dexterity it must require, and had sudden visions of just what it would feel like to have those hands, those fingertips, exploring other parts of her body. “Katie said I should let you finish seducing me,” she murmured, her resolve wavering badly. “I told her that wasn’t what you were doing.” She opened her eyes, unaware she’d closed them. “I told her you were being my friend.”
“Which is more seductive to you,” he asked, “a man solely intent on being your lover . . . or a man intent on being your friend who is also your lover?”
No one had ever said anything like that to her before. No one made her think about life, about what she wanted, whom she wanted in it, quite like Hudson did.
“I think of life as one grand seduction,” he said when she didn’t respond. “A taste of a perfectly prepared feast, the feel of snowflakes landing on your skin, the scent of wood smoke in the air.” He waited until their gazes met again. “The sound of that moan you made when I touched you.”
He didn’t just make her knees weak; he made her heart pound. Her recently mended heart. Was it the height of foolhardiness to even dare try again? She was ready, oh so very ready, to be happy again, to be optimistic about the future. To fall in love. But could she handle being hurt again? Could she handle failing again?
“You didn’t fail,” he whispered in her ear. “Like I said, loving someone is never failing. It’s living.”
“How did you—”
“Someone not loving you is not your failure, Moira. Sadness happens, heartbreak happens, disappointment happens. We don’t always get what we want. But, Moira . . . if you don’t keep trying, if you shield yourself from wanting, then you might avoid heartbreak, but what you end up with is nothing.”
She heard everything he was saying. He made so much sense. It all seemed so clear from his vantage point. Of course, he’s also trying to seduce you. No, she thought, it wasn’t just empty platitudes designed to get her into his bed. He was right about that much. Her gut instinct was good. Beyond even that, she seriously doubted he’d pursue the sister of one of his closest friends if his intentions weren’t sincere.
“Be honest with me,” she told him, looking him directly in the eyes. Her experience in the courtroom might be limited at this stage in her career, but she’d looked enough people in the eye to develop a pretty good sense of whether or not they were lying to her. “You’ve traveled the world over but kept your heart unscathed. Is this how you sweet talk someone into giving you a tumble?”
He looked surprised, but he immediately grinned, clearly not insulted. “Why, Miss Brogan, I was merely hoping for a kiss. Whatever are you suggesting?”
She laughed even as she shook her head. “You’re as
incorrigible as Katie.”
“Yet another point in her favor,” he said. His grin softened to a smile, but his words, when he continued, were spoken soberly and directly. “And the honest answer might not cast me in a very good light, but here it is. Given my somewhat vagabond ways, up until landing here in Blue Hollow Falls, I never set out to pursue anyone. Rather, I . . . well, I let them pursue me. I was always up front, never led anyone on, and while I’d like to think I never hurt anyone, I know that’s not true. As I said before, feelings get in the way despite our best intentions to keep things light and carefree. I suspect I share that knowledge with your handsome Irish poet.”
She giggled at that, which was a surprise in and of itself. Thoughts of Finn rarely made her laugh. “I never said he was a poet.”
Hudson shrugged. “How could he not be?”
Moira just shook her head and laughed again. Oddly enough, it was Hudson’s easy mention of Finn that made her realize how utterly opposite the two men were. That Hudson would speak of another man at all, and at such a potentially delicate time, told her better than anything that the trust she’d given him was well placed. That her ex was an easy subject between them, and not some taboo from her past to be danced around, also spoke volumes about how different her relationship with Hudson had begun, and would continue to be. If she were to let it.
There was one similarity, though, between this relationship and her last one, and it was hard to ignore.
Moira’s life had been at a huge crossroads when she’d taken that trip to Ireland. She’d been practicing law in Seattle for close to a year, but realized it wasn’t where she wanted to be. She’d thought practicing in her hometown was where she was meant to be, that it would feel comforting and familiar. Instead it had felt a little . . . claustrophobic and her large family a bit overwhelming with everyone’s well-meaning interference. She’d gotten her undergrad degree in California, and it had been an exciting time, full of promise and much needed independence. So she’d thought maybe that’s where she should have stayed, and ultimately had decided to try for the California bar, one of the hardest bar exams in the country.
A Season to Celebrate Page 22