by Bea Paige
“I don’t care about the money.” Hudson presses his finger and thumb against his eyes. “I never did. I would have given that money to you in a heartbeat. I was a prick for using it as an excuse to get you here.”
I consider Hudson for a moment. “I can’t promise anything to you, Max or Bryce. For now, all I have is friendship.”
“We’ll take whatever you can give,” he says.
Chapter Twelve
We spend the evening cooking together, laughing and talking about our interests. For the first time in a while I feel happy. Hudson has lost his guilty look, Max and Bryce seem completely at ease in my company.
“So, you’re telling me that last year Bryce went off piste and managed to ski himself into a tree?” I laugh so hard at the story my eyes are streaming.
“Yep, he had to hold a bag of cold peas against his groin for a week. It’s a wonder his manhood still works,” Max says, slapping Bryce on the back.
“Don’t listen to Max, he’s exaggerating. I’ll have you know that my crown jewels are in perfect working order, thank you very much.” Bryce glances at me and for the briefest of moments there is a flash of flirtation there, but he hides it quickly.
“Well, who’s up for a walk outside? I need to burn some calories, I feel like the side of a house,” I joke. Hudson really had surprised me with a beautiful dinner of marinated lamb, honey roasted vegetables and smooth, creamy, mashed potatoes. I am completely stuffed.
“Side of a house?” Max laughs. “Do you not know how incredibly sexy you are?”
I feel my cheeks burn at the compliment. I’ve never considered myself sexy. For the most part, I feel awkward in my body, choosing to cover it up rather than flaunt it.
“Max.” Hudson’s voice has a note of warning.
“I’m just saying the truth,” Max says to his brother. He turns to me. “Sorry, Louisa. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m not hitting on you, I’m just stating a fact. You are sexy. Sexy as hell. Whoever manages to capture your heart will be one lucky man.” He smiles at me, a genuine, heart-warming smile.
“Thanks,” I say, flapping my hand in an attempt to dissolve the sudden tension. “Walk, anyone?”
“We’ll all come,” Bryce says, grabbing his coat and hat.
Five minutes later we’re all wrapped up in hats, gloves, and scarves and are trudging through the snow. It’s deeper up here on the mountainside and is trickier to walk in but it is so worth the effort. I follow Hudson to the edge of the forest. Snow has begun to fall in thick, heavy flakes and all I can hear is the steady breathing of the three men standing next to me. The silence is as captivating as the snow and I breathe in the cold air as a gentle peace settles within me. “It’s so beautiful,” I say, completely enamoured with the place. “Is Petite Cabane yours too?”
“Yes, we bought the cabin and the surrounding five acres a couple years back after we fell in love with it. Even though we enjoy the chalet and the resort, this is our sanctuary.”
“What do you guys do exactly?” I ask, curious as to how three relatively young guys have become so successful.
“We’re into property,” Bryce explains. “Hud worked his arse off after leaving the children’s home. He had five jobs at one point. Then once we got out we worked our arses off too. It wasn’t long before we managed to buy a studio flat. We did it up, we sold it on for a profit.”
“Yep, then we kept buying, doing the places up and selling them on. We made a business out of it,” Max continues. “Hudson here is the brains, Bryce and me the brawn.” Max smiles and does an impression of the World’s Strongest Man. I laugh.
“We owe all our success to Hud,” Bryce says. I am caught by the love in his eyes. These men may have trouble committing to women, but they sure as hell are committed to each other.
“This business works because we all make it work, it’s as simple as that really. Somehow, together we are better at all things,” Hudson says, and I’m reminded of what happened last night. My cheeks flush at the thought. All three men are looking at me and I can’t help but think they are reminded of last night too.
“Right,” I say, clapping my hands together in an attempt to divert their attention. “It’s beautiful, but it’s damn cold. Who wants to go back in for a Baileys hot chocolate?”
“I wouldn’t say no,” Bryce says, and we make our way back to the cabin. Halfway through the walk back, Max stops. When I turn around to see what he is doing I can see him rolling up a snowball. He puts his fingers over his mouth then throws it directly at Bryce, hitting him square on the back. I let out a delighted laugh at the look of mischief on Max’s face.
“Oh no, you just didn’t,” Bryce says, scooping up a handful of snow and chucking it back at Max. It smashes against his chest, sending a spray of snow up in his face. Max’s eyes widen as another snowball comes hurtling towards him, this time from Hudson, who is grinning wickedly. Before long we are all throwing snowballs at each other, running through the snow like a bunch of kids until we are laughing and wet from the fight. Ten minutes later I hold my hands up in defeat, giggling. Having lost my hat in the fun, my hair is a wet, snowy mess and even though I have a heavy jacket and jumper on, the snow has somehow worked its way under my clothes and I am beginning to feel cold.
“That’s it, boys, I’m done. Time for that hot chocolate, yes?” I say, my teeth chattering.
“Sure thing,” Hudson says.
“Just what I need,” Bryce agrees, then swears as Max hurles one last snowball that hits him square on the jaw, covering his beard in snow.
“You look like Father Christmas,” I laugh, and the brothers laugh with me.
Inside we take off our jackets, boots, and gloves and I head into the kitchen to start the hot chocolate. Max comes over as I am fetching the items I need from the cupboard.
“Here, let me do that. You look freezing, your lips are going blue,” he says, his eyes firmly fixed on my mouth.
“I’m not that cold. Don’t exaggerate,” I say.
“Seriously. Go take a shower, you shouldn’t sit around with wet hair and clothes, especially since you said you weren’t feeling well yesterday. We’ll call you when it’s ready,” Hudson says, pointing to the patches of wet on my clothes from where the snow has melted.
“Well, if you insist.” I smile, grateful for their concern. “I was going to melt the chocolate, add milk, cream, and Baileys. Do you think you can manage that?” I ask, nodding to the items.
“Leave it with us, Ice Queen,” Max says, saluting me.
I laugh. “Thanks, Jester.”
Leaving Hudson and Max squabbling over the best way to melt chocolate, I head into the bathroom and strip off my clothes. The shower is surprisingly powerful and deliciously hot, and I spend a good five minutes just enjoying the feeling of the spray massaging my body, before rinsing off the remaining soap suds and stepping out of the shower. I grab a fluffy towel from the rack and wrap it around myself, almost jumping out of my skin when I see Bryce standing at the door watching me.
“Shit, sorry, Louisa,” he says turning away, but not before taking a good look at my naked body. “I knocked but got no answer. I just wanted to tell you the hot chocolate is ready,” he rambles, a rather cute shade of pink rushing up his cheeks.
“It’s fine, it’s not as if you haven’t seen me naked before,” I laugh, trying to lighten the growing tension.
“Don’t remind me,” he grinds out. My eyes snap up to his face, to his hand that is gripping the door frame so hard his knuckles are white. Our eyes lock, and for a moment I am taken aback by the hunger I see there.
“I’ll tell them you’re coming.” Bryce rips his eyes away and closes the door gently, allowing me the privacy to let out a shaky breath.
“Don’t go there, Louisa,” I say to myself sternly, even though my mind is thinking all sorts of dangerous things.
When I head back into the front room dressed in a soft grey jumper and matching slacks, my hair still damp f
rom the shower, I find the brothers sitting on the L-shaped couch in the living room. Bryce looks up at me briefly before becoming very interested in the hot chocolate he is drinking. Max and Hudson smile.
“Come sit,” Max says, patting the empty space between him and his brother. I look at the spot, then remember what happened last night.
“I’ll sit by the fire. It’ll dry my hair quicker,” I say. Best to stay well away from close contact. I don’t want another repeat of last night, do I? I shake my head of the wayward thought. “Is that mine?” I ask, pointing to a mug of delicious smelling hot chocolate on the coffee table.
“Sure is, darling,” Bryce says. Darling?
Choosing to ignore the term of endearment, I swallow a mouthful of the delicious tasting hot chocolate, loving the taste of Baileys as it hits the back of my throat.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow? Is there anything you’d like me to help prepare for Christmas dinner? Can you believe it is actually Christmas tomorrow?” I realise I am rambling, but can’t seem to help myself. The atmosphere has got decidedly tense all of a sudden.
Max looks at me, his dark brown eyes like hot coals trailing over my face. “There’s nothing you need to do. We’ve got it covered,” he says.
“Okay.” I find myself turning away from three sets of hungry eyes and stare into the fire. Memories of last night come unbidden into my head and I feel a rush of heat pool between my legs. I know these kinds of thoughts are dangerous, I had made it plain to Hudson not more than a couple hours ago that friendship is all I can offer, and yet here I am thinking about the way they make me feel. The way all three of them make me feel. Pushing those thoughts away, I concentrate instead on drinking the hot chocolate and running a hand through my still wet hair. I didn’t bother giving it a thorough comb through when I got out of the shower, so it’s pretty tangled as my fingers get caught up in the knots.
“Here, let me brush it for you,” Max says, walking into the room with a brush in his hand. I hadn’t noticed he had got up, too distracted by thoughts of last night. I go to protest, but he just smiles sweetly.
“It’s no big deal Louisa, I just want to brush your hair. Can I?” he asks. There’s a vulnerability in his request and I find I can’t deny him.
“Sure,” I mumble. What harm can it do?
He settles himself behind me, locking me between his thighs, and starts brushing my hair, taking extra care with the sections that are knotted. Before long I feel myself relax into his hold. He is exceedingly gentle.
“I used to brush my mother’s hair before she got really sick. It’s one of my lasting memories of her, and the only one that isn’t filled with hurt and pain,” Max says softly as he places the brush on the coffee table and begins to gently run his hands through my hair.
“How did she get sick?” I ask, glancing at Hudson and Max, both of whom seem mesmerised by what Max is saying.
“Mum was a manic depressive, they call it Bipolar disorder these days. Most of the time she was just plain sad, when she wasn’t in a paranoid rage or hallucinating. The only time she seemed at peace was when I brushed her hair. Then one day she just flipped. She couldn’t take her life anymore, even for me. She hung herself…” Max’s voice trails off and I feel a rising sadness overwhelm me. When I look at Bryce and Hudson, I can see their own constrained emotions just beneath the surface. I place my mug on the coffee table and turn on my knees to face Max. He looks at me as though he is on the edge of a precipice and I am his only anchor keeping him from falling. “Max, I’m so sorry,” I say, before pulling him into a gentle hug. He doesn’t say a word, he just holds me with his face buried in my hair. We remain like that for quite some time until eventually he pulls away and smiles shakily at me.
“Well, Ice Queen, you sure know how to melt a guy’s heart,” he says.
I smile at him and give him a light kiss on his cheek before standing. “I think I might go to bed, if that’s okay with you guys?” I say, all too aware that something out of the ordinary is happening between us. I know myself well enough to know that one more minute with them would mean all sorts of trouble for me. It has been a long and emotional day. Sleep is what I need. Well, that’s what I tell myself anyway.
Chapter Thirteen
“Wake up, it’s Christmas morning, you lazy oafs.”
I smile at the sound of Max ribbing his brothers on the other side of the corridor and their grumbles of protest. Yawning, I sit up in bed and stretch. Outside the snowfall is so heavy I can’t even see the forest. I think this must be what they call a white-out. The fact that I am inside, warm and cosy, whilst the snow is piling up outside makes me feel strangely happy.
I’m only wearing my underwear, so I pull on my fluffy dressing gown and socks before opening the door. Max is standing on the other side wearing a Santa hat. He immediately pulls me into a hug and presses a kiss on the top of my head.
“Happy Christmas, beautiful,” he says.
I don’t bother to pull him up on the flirting, it's Christmas day after all. Besides, I kind of like the way he looked at me when he said it. Like he meant I was beautiful, the me inside, not the way I looked on the outside.
“Happy Christmas, Max,” I say.
Max is suddenly a big kid, full of happiness and energy as he pulls me along the corridor and into the living room. I have no idea why he’s so excited, it’s not as if there will be any presents. I stop short when I see a tree covered in fairy lights, twinkling in the corner of the room. Underneath are several presents wrapped up in brown paper and red ribbon.
“Wow, did Santa stop by last night while I was sleeping?”
“He may have done. Looks like Santa left a shed load of snow too,” Max smiles, pointing to the window. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be going anywhere until this heavy snowfall has passed and the snow plough can clear the mountain roads. Luckily we have enough supplies to feed the five thousand.”
“Thank goodness for that,” I laugh, feeling excited rather than worried about the thought of being ensconced in the cabin with the brothers Freed. I don’t know what’s happened overnight, but this morning I feel entirely different about the whole situation. “Well, all I can say is, Santa did a sterling job this Christmas.”
Hudson and Bryce pile into the room looking exceedingly cute with their messed-up hair and sleep-filled eyes. For the first time, Bryce hasn’t bothered to make himself presentable for breakfast and I can’t help but smile at how adorable he looks.
“Santa had a bit of help,” Bryce laughs, pulling his long hair up into a quick bun. “Merry Christmas, Louisa.” He steps over to me and pulls me into a hug. This time I don’t flinch or pull away, I just let him hold me. I barely reach his shoulder, so when I rest my head against his broad chest all I can hear is the steady rhythm of his heart beating.
“Happy Christmas, Bryce,” I reply, stepping out of his hold.
“Right, let’s get breakfast started. Pancakes, maple syrup and bacon coming right up,” Max says.
“I’ll give you a hand, bro.” Bryce pecks me briefly on the cheek, then grabs a frying pan and drizzles oil into it whilst Max starts making pancake mixture. I watch them work together, laughing and joking. This is the first Christmas I have ever experienced without some kind of shit going down. All my previous memories of this day are filled with a drunk mother screaming and hollering, and a cold lonely dinner. When I see the brothers so full of happiness, a feeling of contentment settles inside my chest. It’s refreshing, and I hang on to it wholeheartedly.
“You okay there, Louisa?” It’s Hudson, he’s perched on the back of the sofa watching me watching his brothers.
“Yes, I’m great actually,” I say. It’s the truth. Today, I am just going to enjoy being amongst these men. I won’t let doubt or fear or worry about whether they are being genuine dampen my thoughts. I decide then and there that for one goddamn day I will allow myself this happiness and to hell with everything else.
“The Christmas tree, the pre
sents,” I say, pointing to them. “Did you do this last night after I went to bed?”
“Yes, we had the presents brought up yesterday and stored in the outhouse before we arrived. Last night we had the tree and decorations delivered. Max organised it and all three of us decorated the tree.”
“You did?” I laugh. Hudson smiles too.
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Well, it’s just so perfect.” I look at the jewelled baubles on the tree, at the carefully placed ornaments. It is beautiful.
“Believe it or not, we love Christmas. Not growing up in a loving home meant we were deprived of what most people take for granted. It has become a tradition for us to celebrate together. We decorate the tree, exchange gifts, cook together. This is the first Christmas ever that we’ve wanted someone to join us. I’m glad you’re here,” Hudson says.
We look at each other for a long moment and I see the sincerity in his eyes.
“Louisa, come here,” he says, holding open his arms.
Without thinking too much about what I’m doing, I walk into them. His arms are warm and solid as they wrap around me tightly. We are almost the same height, him sitting on the back of the sofa, me standing between his legs. He presses his cheek against mine. “I hope you’ll forgive me someday for the way I’ve handled myself, Louisa. You’re special, we don’t want to lose you,” he says softly.
I pull away from him, looking into the depths of his green eyes. My heart flutters at the hope, at the honesty I see in them. As we stare at each other, the background noise of Bryce and Max cooking breakfast falls away. I don’t know whether it is the magic of Christmas morning, my sudden decision to allow myself one day of happiness, or something else entirely, but whatever it is I leave the Louisa of yesterday behind and press a soft kiss against Hudson’s mouth.
The moment our lips touch a raging desire explodes between us and I am acutely aware of Hudson’s hands as they grip my hips, pulling me closer towards him. Something inside me snaps, and I tangle my hands into Hudson’s hair, kissing him back with the same fervour he is kissing me with.