Page 38 of Moody's Grumpy Holiday

“Are you bonkers? Ornaments were not part of the deal.”

“Humor me.”

Against my better judgment, I acquiesced. I’d be the talk of the town by morning. Everyone would be speculating about what had prompted two Moody sightings at holiday venues within an hour. Of course, they’d come to the swift conclusion that I was infatuated with our new neighbor, and they’d be correct.

But this was for BJs…plural.

Okay, that was a lie. It wasn’t the promise of sex that had convinced me to tag along on Hudson’s holiday spirit quest. It was him.

Hudson was so magnetic.

That had to be why I followed him through Mrs. Clause’s Ornament Parlor, grunting my yays and nays to red bulbs versus silver ones. I grudgingly approved his glittery star tree-topper and admitted that I preferred colorful lights over plain ones. And yes, the velvet tree skirt was a pleasant addition.

But that was it. He’d get no more opinions from me.

And no, I certainly would not be aiding him in the decorating process. Are you bananas?

After I helped Hudson lug his purchases into his abode, he was on his own. Although I had hoped this afternoon jaunt would end on a libidinous note, sans clothing, Hudson had insisted that I should come to his place rather than dropping me off when we were still in Christmas Town. That meant something, didn’t it?

Perhaps not.

“Aren’t you going to bring the tree in the house?” I asked, gesturing to the adorable gray bungalow he’d parked in front of as I shut the passenger side door.

Hudson tilted the brim of his hat and shrugged. “It can wait. I want to put the lights on the house first.”

I frowned. “Why? That makes no sense.”

“Sure it does. I want to get them up before it’s dark.” He folded his arms, seemingly in no big hurry to get started with anything in particular. “There’s a ladder in the garage. I’ll grab that and worry about the tree tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? You’re going to leave it in your trunk all night long? That’s—no!”

“No?”

I closed my eyes briefly and released a put-upon sigh. “I’ll help you take the tree inside.”

Hudson grinned as he leaned in to kiss me. “Thanks.”

He didn’t require my assistance. No chance. Hudson was fit and burly, and his shoulders were wide enough to carry three trees at once, Paul Bunyan style. But I helped anyway, struggling to hold my end and the bags of ornaments too.

I dumped the bags on the coffee table and somehow ended up supervising the tree placement after Hudson partially blocked his hallway. We arranged it in the window and it looked…very nice.

His cottage was rustic chic with wide-plank hardwood flooring, high ceilings, and comfy leather furnishings anchored by a red-and-gold print area rug. It lacked personal touches like books and photos, but it was a homey space with potential. And yes, the tree added undeniable warmth.

“This is lovely.”

Hudson smiled. “Pleasant Moody is making a comeback.”

“Don’t push your luck,” I grumbled without heat.

“I wouldn’t dare. I like this place, too. It was one of the overflow cottages Mills used for guests of the dude ranch, so it came prefurnished. The kitchen is small, but it has an island and my bedroom is?—”

“Why don’t you give me a tour?” I intercepted, flashing my version of a come-hither wink.

“Do you have something in your eye?’

“Uh—no.”

“Good.” He thumped his thumb on the box of holiday lights. “Lights first, then a tour.”