Page 54 of Moody's Grumpy Holiday

My heart swelled in my chest as the enormity of the moment hit me. This was love.

Real love.

And a chance at forever with this intriguing, intelligent, beautiful man was the greatest gift ever.

EPILOGUE

“Iheard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, ‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all, a good night.’”—A Visit from St. Nicholas, Clement Clarke Moore

Three yearslater

Moody

Garlands tied in bright-red ribbons cascaded over the steps next to countless strings of colorful lights that were destined to be hung along the roof and wrapped around the base of the amber tree in our yard. A giant wreath with red bulbs and holly was already on the front door and the sprig of mistletoe had been strategically placed in the eaves above the porch swing Hudson had bought me for Christmas two years ago. I loved it.

And I loved how festive the house would look as soon as we got our keisters in gear and decorated.

“Would you prefer to drape garlands or hang the lights, good sir?”

Hudson quirked a grin from under his Stetson. The familiar kind that made me feel gooey on the inside.

He propped a ladder along the side of the house and pointed at the lights. “Lights first, baby. You know the drill. This will go fastest if you’re my elf.”

“Yes, but I will not wear the hat,” I replied primly. “That bell is ridiculous.”

“You’re so damn cute in it, though,” he drawled, climbing the ladder. “Okay, let’s start with strand number one.”

“This one?”

“No, that’s number five.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Oh, got it. Here it is.”

“That’s number two.” Hudson hiked one boot on an upper rung and flashed one of those Not Safe for General Public looks. “Are we playing a game now?”

“What do you mean?” I tried fluttering my lashes, which never went quite as planned as I tended to resemble a defective mechanical toy.

“You know. The one where we reenact a saucy scene from a cowboy romance. If I’m the alpha cowboy who’s gonna paint your back porch red for being a brat, fill me in, baby. We’ve got two hours of daylight and a whole lot of Christmas decorating to do.”

I clasped my hand over my mouth and faux fainted against the nearest tree. Of course, I didn’t actually fall to the ground…the leaves were mucky, and the German shepherd down the street liked to do her business in our yard. “Well, I never…”

“I’ll make you a deal. Tell me the filthiest scene you want to work on while we string lights and”—he paused to wave to Mrs. McKenzie across the street, continuing our conversation as if we’d been discussing the weather report—“put up the garland.”

“Okay…” I grinned at our neighbor as I collected the first string of lights and handed it to my husband. “I read a new one with a cowboy and an insurance salesman. The salesman sells the cowboy a bag of goods, and as they say, a skirmish ensues. They wrestle to the ground and well…one thing leads to another.”

Hudson fastened the lights to the hooks on the roof, a wide grin on his sinfully handsome face. “So you want to wrestle with me?”

I pushed my glasses higher on my nose and shook my head. “That would be a swift and unfortunate battle, so no. But we could pretend.”

“We could,” he agreed. “What about a naughty holiday story?”

I beamed like a madman. Not everyone was as lucky as I was, and I knew it. I’d married my soul mate and best friend—the one person who understood me, accepted me, and always put me first.

Three years ago, we’d made a vow not to rush into a major commitment. Sure, we were boyfriends, but we didn’t have to adhere to a timeline. But one year later, Hudson moved into my house and commuted to the ranch. Six months after that, he proposed on a cliffside overlooking the winery. There was a sumptuous picnic, a glorious sunset, and a few mosquito bites. But gosh, it was so romantic.

We were married at the ranch that December…one year ago. It was the largest venue in the area, and we’d had quite a few out-of-town guests to accommodate. We divided our time evenly between Christmas Town and Oak Ridge, so it made sense to have a classy country wedding before returning to the land of year-round holiday shenanigans.

And yes, Hudson’s mom was a regular visitor. She fell in love with Christmas Town, just as her son suspected she might. I think she could tell we were madly in love and that Hudson was happy here. That was all she’d wanted for him.