Текст книги "Release Me"

Автор книги: Ann Marie Walker

Соавторы: Amy K. Rogers
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty

The doors to the walk-in closet stood open, and in the bathroom steam still hung in the air. On the bed a deep crimson silk tie lay strewn across a crisp dress shirt. At Allie’s insistence, formal had been ditched for comfort. So in a quick shift, Hudson ducked his head through the neck of a navy V-neck sweater and pulled the cashmere down his torso. He had offered to take her out to some fancy dinner, as was the thing among the Gold Coast crowd she ran with. Shit, and according to his address, so did he. But Allie had wanted to cook for the three of them. She’d had enough formal holidays to last a lifetime and wanted something small and intimate, the opposite of what her mother used to throw to please her whims and fancy.

On his way out of the room, Hudson paused in front of the full-length mirror for a quick check of his fly. He stared at his reflection and thought of the way his life had played out and an unfamiliar feeling took shape. He was happy. The two things that mattered most to him were coming together.

One was his brother, who he’d do . . . had done, the unimaginable for. The other was the woman who owned him and was probably making a damn mess of his kitchen. Like he gave a flying fuck. As it was, women’s clothes were multiplying by the day, and for some reason he didn’t care if tampons appeared next to the toilet paper. Then he thought of the time he’d spent shaving and arranging his hair. And the gel, he’d even used goddamn gel and it still looked like shit.

He hit the lights on his way out, laughing quietly at what a whipped sonofabitch he was, and set off for the kitchen. In front of him Mother Nature was delivering a white Christmas to Chicago and snow swirled outside the floor to ceiling windows. But it was the sound of the door slamming shut on a Viking oven and the clanging of pots and pans that drew his attention. The scents wafting through the living room teed off his hungry stomach as he closed in on the source of all the noise.

Allie, in his kitchen.

God, she was a sight.

He leaned against the wall just on the periphery of the room and watched her, absorbing her determination to make this dinner the best damn one in history.

She pirouetted to grab pot holders that were taking a nap in between two mixing bowls. When she pulled them up, two wooden spoons clattered to the floor. Allie was clearly in way over her head. His lips twitched on a suppressed laugh as he surveyed the damage. The granite counters were littered with bowls, spoons, knives, and cutting boards of every size, make, and model. The sink was piled high with colanders, more bowls, and what must have been his entire set of All-Clad. He wondered if there was still a clean dish left. If there was, it was only a matter of minutes before it would be used and abused.

She bent over to check the bird in the oven, giving him one hell of a view of her ass. As he watched her body move, he felt himself begin to harden. And knew just how long it would take him to get her out of those pants and be buried deep inside her.

“Looks good.” Hudson grinned. When she straightened, he saw she wore a white chef’s apron, the string wound twice around her waist and knotted in the front. He owned an apron? Who knew.

“You think so?” Allie bent down and looked through the window once again, then popped back up.

His head cocked to the side. “Absolutely.” He moved toward her like a predator, his shoulders rolling with his stride.

“The turkey should be done right on time. The potatoes are done, the stuffing . . .” she ticked each item off with a finger “. . . rolls, cranberry sauce . . . from the can, as requested.” As if reading his mind, she started to back away from him, only to bump into the counter.

He stopped in front of her, his arms coming around her and settling on the small of her back, urging her closer.

“Hudson.” Allie tilted her head to the side at the same time his lips made contact with her neck. “There’s still so much to do.”

“Numerous things,” he said, his hands slipping under her sweater and smoothing up the sides of her ribcage. His cock hardened between them and he sealed his mouth over hers.

“I want you,” he murmured.

“You just had me just a few hours ago.”

“Wasn’t enough. I feel like I can’t breathe unless I’m inside you.” He covered her mouth with his once more and she melted into his kiss. As she leaned into him, the pressure increased against his cock and he groaned into her mouth. “Fuck.” He drew the word out, his pecs tightening as his fingers flexed against her skin. He would have moved into position lighting-fucking-fast, but sweet hell there wasn’t an inch of counter that wasn’t covered with kitchen appliances he didn’t even know he owned or have shit spilled on it from her sojourn into Martha Stewartdom.

His palm cupped her breast and kneaded it through the thin lace of her bra, his fingertips brushing over her nipple. Then his tongue slipped into her mouth, lazily fucking it, before sucking her bottom lip between his teeth.

“God, yes,” Allie breathed against his lips. The sound she let out was part hum of approval and part moan. Screw the counter action, the floor would work just fine. He wanted his mouth on her, his tongue thrusting up inside her so he could taste her slick sex. He needed her naked skin against his, her breath hot and pleading in his ear. She was right, it had only been a couple hours but that length of time was a goddamn killer, making him more aware of the heartbeat pounding at the head of his cock.

Just as he was going to prove to himself how fast he could have her out of her clothes and flat on her back with his face between her thighs, the dull ding of the private elevator sounded in the distance.

“Your brother is here,” Allie mumbled against his mouth.

Hudson growled before dropping a kiss on her mouth and adjusting the hard-on in his pants.

Nick cleared his throat. “Yo, dude, you have eighty rooms in this joint. Get one.”

Hudson flipped his brother the bird over Allie’s shoulder.

“Nice. Real Christmas spirit.” Nick chuckled. “Where’s the fuckin’ love?”

Allie started to laugh. If it wasn’t snowing like a bitch outside, Hudson would’ve tossed his brother out on his ass and made him wait while he made love to his woman in every-single-mother-fucking-room. Twice.

A sharp gust of wind rattled the windows. “Weather dude is predicting record snow and shit.” Nick shook out his jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch.

“What the hell, Nick? Get your wet coat off the couch.”

“Seriously? You going on all fancy schmancy on me?” Nick grabbed his jacket, stopping short at the sight of Allie’s version of Santa’s Village. “Holy shit.”

As expected, she really had overdone it. Hudson’s penthouse looked like one of the window displays at Macy’s on steroids. If there was free space she’d thrown garland and lights on it. Christ, there were enough tiny lightbulbs to land a 747 in his living room. But he knew her heart had been in the right place, and it gave her something to focus on besides it being the first holiday without her family. Plus, the expression on Nick’s face was priceless. Hudson hadn’t seen that look on him since they were kids. And seeing the two people he loved most in the world happy was all that mattered to him. Even if his house looked like Clark Griswold’s.

Allie had scored a winner. And in that moment he crashed even harder for her.

Nick’s eyes darted from the tree that rivaled the one standing front and center in the Walnut Room to the table set with red-and-white poinsettias and mosaic votives. The candles were lit, making the place smell like a potpourri of spices that sucked the coldness out of his highly stylized penthouse. It was the first time his place had felt like a home, and it had everything to do with the woman currently destroying his kitchen.

As if on cue, Allie appeared at Hudson’s side. He threw an arm around her shoulder, then kissed the crown of her head, watching as Nick zeroed in on the wooden pyramid. He reached out to give the thin wooden paddles a spin, but the moment his finger made contact the intricate contraption fell apart; angels fell from heaven, propellers hit the ground.

“Jesus Christ,” Hudson muttered under his breath. “Some things never change.”

Allie covered her mouth to hide her laugh as he strode over to the wooden carnage.

“I just wanted to make the little guys spin faster, dude.” Nick gathered the paddles that had flung in every direction while Hudson rescued a fallen angel from the ground.

“Does the concept of leaving shit alone ever enter your head?”

“Does chillin’ the fuck out ever enter yours?” Nick plugged one of the propellers into its designated hole, his hand hovering over the pyramid until he was sure it would stay put.

Hudson pushed Nick’s hand aside. “Give it to me.”

“Hey, leave the CEO at the office. I got it.” Nick popped another paddle into position, then another before wood took another trip to the ground. “Son of a bitch.”

“Move.” Hudson shoved Nick out of the way as his little brother played pick-up sticks.

“Have at it.” Nick dropped the propellers into a pile on the table and sauntered over to the tree. “Dude, that’s a mountain of boxes.” He squatted down and started rifling through the packages. “I see a ton of shit with my name on it. What’s the holdup?”

“After dinner.”

“After dinner? Hells no. I know when you’re hiding something. And when you do, it’s worth it.” Nick stood up. “C’mon, man. What’s the fuckin’ deal?”

“Hey, there’s no ‘fuck’ in Christmas.”

Allie leaned closer, whispering so only he could hear. “That’s not what I heard in the kitchen.”

“That was different.” Hudson brushed his lips against her temple.

“Now or later, bro, you’re still going to give me the prezzie. I know you and you can’t resist. So hand it over.”

“No. Later.”

“Oh, please.” Allie rolled her eyes. “You’ve been excited about this all day. Just give it to him.” She’d busted his balls on that one.

“Fine, you can open one.”

With that, Nick dove for the mass of boxes under the tree and began his own version of a scavenger hunt. He surfaced with a huge rectangular box that had his name scratched on it in Hudson’s handwriting.

“That’s your choice?”

Nick grinned. “Bigger is better.”

“Not necessarily.” Hudson strode toward the tree and closed in on a small red box with silver satin ribbon tied in an elaborate bow. All Allie’s doing, of course. He had no patience when it came to wrapping presents, always opting for a stick-on. Peel, slap, done.

“The little one?” Nick eyed it skeptically.

“Fine, if you would rather have the box with the cashmere sweater in it. Your choice.”

Allie looked on, unable to contain her smile as Nick’s eyes volleyed between the big box in his hands and the little one Hudson held in his palm. “You know what they say about big things coming in small packages,” she prompted.

Nick laughed. “That’s what she said.” He tossed the larger box aside and snatched the smaller one out of Hudson’s hand. After ripping off the ribbon, he lifted the lid to find a silver key nestled inside with a chain that read HARLEY DAVIDSON. Nick was speechless for about a nanosecond, then his head shot up. “No fuckin’ way.”

“There’s still a few minutes before dinner’s ready,” Allie said. “Why don’t you take him down to the garage and show him.”

“It’s here?”

“You want to go see it?”

“Uh, hell yeah.” Nick dropped the box and was on his feet, bouncing on the balls like he did when he was a kid.

Hudson crooked an elbow around his little brother’s neck and dragged him toward the foyer with a knuckle to the head. “Get the lead out, little man.” It was possible he was as excited as his brother was. They were hanging out again and Nick was flashing a smile that reminded him of when he was a kid opening up some POS present Hudson had managed to scrape enough money together to buy. But this time he was giving his brother something that made up for a childhood of crap cars with wheels that fell off after a week. This time his brother was getting the real-fucking-deal Hot Wheels.

Nick broke free and ran ahead. He punched the button for the elevator. “C’mon, old man. Ditch the walker and hurry up.”

Hudson had barely stepped onto the elevator when Nick thumb-punched the Door Close button. He thought his brother was going to bounce off the walls during what must’ve been the longest elevator ride of his life.

In three . . . two . . . one . . . the doors opened.

Parked next to Hudson’s gun-metal gray DB9 was Nick’s unicorn, a Harley Davidson Fat Boy, laid back and luxurious with the unmistakable nostalgic profile.

Hudson Chase didn’t fuck around when it came to motorcycles.

Nick moved toward the shiny black classic as if he got too close, the mirage would disappear. “Is this mine?”

Hudson chuckled. “Yeah, merry Christmas.”

His brother let his hand drift over the chrome badge emblazoned on the side of the leather strap tank, then threw his leg over the bike.

“It’s a Twin Cam 103 with six-speed cruise drive transmission. It’s got a chrome speedometer and ignition switch console.” Hudson pointed. “All the info you need at a quick glance.”

Nick’s hands darted to the handlebars that were set wide and made of stainless steel with bare-knuckle chrome risers. “This is one sick-ass bike.”

“If you don’t like the color or the make, we can trade it in.”

“No way. This is the best present in the world, bro. I love it.” Nick kicked back on the throne of metal, surveying the concrete wall in front of him like it was the open road. “When are we going riding?”

“Bike, snow, not a good combo.”

“Ah, come on, buzzkill.”

“No bike in this weather. Not to mention you’ll freeze your balls off.”

“Like I said. Buzz. Kill.” Nick cocked a grin.

“Common sense.” Hudson took two quick strides forward. “It has mirror chrome wheels and a NextGen security system that automatically arms and disarms the ride,” he said, pointing out the bells and whistles. “The thing is better than what’s on my bike.”

Nick was touching everything, skimming his hands over every inch. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Try thank you.”

He looked up. “Thank you, Hudson.”

“You’re welcome. Glad you like it.” Hudson felt his phone vibrate in the ass pocket of his pants. He dug the thing out and with his thumbs working, punched a message before slipping the phone back in his pocket. “Dinner’s ready.” As soon as he finished his sentence, his phone vibrated again.

“We better get our asses upstairs,” Nick said, swinging his leg over the bike in a dismount.

“Yeah.” Hudson typed a reply and put the phone away again, then shot his brother a stern glare. “No drinking and riding, feel me?”

“Dude, when are you going to let up? Sober, remember?” Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a thirty-day chip. He flicked it at Hudson.

Hudson caught the chip, studying one side, then the other. There were numerous things to say, yet he stood there with not a damn thing coming to mind except, “This is my Christmas present, Nicky.” He cleared his throat. “We better hit it before Allie starts texting my ass again.”

Nick laughed. “So whipped.”

“No denying.” He grinned. “And one day, it will happen to you.” Hudson clapped his brother on the shoulder as they headed toward the elevator. On the ride up, he launched into more details about Nick’s new piece of horsepower. While he pontificated, sound effects rumbled out of Nick’s piehole and echoed off the wood paneling.

When they stepped off, Allie looked up from setting a platter of food on the table.”Perfect timing. Grab a seat, you two.”

“Can I help you with something?” Hudson brushed his lips against her cheek.

“No. Oh wait, yes! The wine.” She jockeyed between the table and the kitchen, trying to work out which way to go.

“I got it.”

Allie stopped him with a touch to his forearm. “Unless you’d rather not.” She glanced at Nick, who was sticking his finger in the sweet potatoes.

The affection this woman had not only for him, but for his brother as well, was an arrow to the heart. “We’re good, baby.” Nick had made it clear he didn’t want everyone walking on eggshells around him. He wanted things as normal as possible, and since Hudson would normally serve wine with a dinner, he would tonight as well.

He’d just returned from grabbing a bottle of Chardonnay out of the wine fridge when Allie came out of the kitchen. Her arms were loaded with yet another dish, but damn it was his favorite: green bean casserole with extra crispy onions. The dish might have been low-rent to some, but hell if it wasn’t a classic.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he said. As out of her element as Allie had seemed, everything was pulled together perfectly.

Hudson released the cork with a soft rush of air and started to fill their glasses. Allie brought out the last dish, and fuck him, he was going to drop down on bended knee.

“Oh shit, are those scalloped potatoes?” Nick blurted before he could even get a word out.

“You got it.”

“Dude, Hudson, she’s a keeper. Don’t fuck this up.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Sit, please. Eat while it’s hot.” Allie sat down, and just as she did her phone let out a muted shrill of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

Hudson raised a brow at the 1980s tune that was a pop-culture anthem to do just that.

“Harper.” She smiled sheepishly. “She programmed it, not me.”

Hudson and Nick both laughed at her quickly offered defense.

“Hey there,” she said into the phone. “How’s St. Louis? Uncle Eddie still have his pants on?” A frown marred her perfect brow. “You’ve been at O’Hare this whole time?” She stood and moved toward the panoramic windows overlooking Lake Shore Drive. Snow shifted one way, then sharply to the other with each gust of wind. “It’s coming down pretty hard, but traffic is moving.” There was a beat of silence. “Well obviously you’re not getting a flight tonight . . . No, we haven’t eaten yet.”

Hudson slid the napkin from his lap, resting it on the table.

“Why don’t you hop on the L and come spend Christmas Eve with us? . . . No, it’s no trouble.” Allie was back at the table lifting the platter of scalloped potatoes as Nick was spooning into them. “Oh no, the food won’t be ready for another thirty minutes, so it works out great.”

Hudson and Nick shot each other a look that their own hunger might become a liability.

“Head on over,” Allie said before ending the call. Without pause, she turned to Hudson and Nick. “Will you give me a hand with the rest of these?”

“What the fuck?” Nick’s words rushed out under his breath as Allie left the dining room with an armful of platters.

“Just go with it.” With that they both worked on hauling plate after plate of food to the kitchen. Allie raced to set another place setting and Hudson reached for his phone.

“Max, there will be a feisty redhead arriving soon by the name of Harper Hayes. Send her up.”

Allie gaped at him. “Max is working tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Send the man home. It’s bad enough you’ve had him follow me everywhere for the past two weeks, but it’s Christmas Eve.”

“Crime doesn’t break for the holidays.”

“I’m in your penthouse. Nothing is going to happen to me here.”

Hudson exhaled. “After she arrives, you can leave for the night,” he told Max.

She lifted a brow.

“And I’ll see you on the twenty-sixth,” he added reluctantly before hanging up the phone. While he wanted Max on standby, Allie was right. He shouldn’t keep the man from enjoying time with his family.

“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “Maybe give Nick the rest of his presents?”

“I could think of a better way to spend the next half hour.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Drop the cookie, Nick,” he said, without looking up. He turned to catch his brother red-handed, then kicked his chin in the direction of the tree. “There are more presents with your name on them.”

Chapter Twenty-one

“Sweet hell,” Hudson muttered under his breath when the elevator doors opened. Harper looked like she’d brought her whole damn closet in the guise of two suitcases the size of an Escalade. With his hands planted on his hips, he checked out the set of mix ’n’ match luggage. If he didn’t know better he’d have sworn the redhead was moving in.

Allie rushed to the elevator at the same time Harper started to unravel herself from the layers of clothes she’d armored herself with against the weather. All he could see at the moment was a set of bright green eyes.

“Oh my God, you must be freezing,” she said.

“Not too bad.” Harper’s teeth chattered and the snowflakes along for the ride dusted his wood floor. She sat down on the bench in the foyer and tugged off her . . . Christ, were those fire-engine red boots?

“And I didn’t know you had all this luggage.”

“Hello, have you met me?” Emerald-green gloves came next, falling to the floor with a wet slap.

“We should have met her at the L stop.” Allie shot a frustrated look at Hudson. “Come on, let’s get you in front of the fire.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and Nick as she ushered Harper toward the living room. “Will you take care of those?”

The two brothers looked at each other. Hudson ran a hand through his hair and bit back a curse. It was bad enough he was playing host-with-the-fucking-most, but now a goddamn bellhop? Jesus Christ, he was going to drag his brother down with him. “Well, don’t just stand there, make yourself useful.” He threw out his arm, slapping Nick against the chest with the back of his hand.

“Ouch.” Nick mock-flinched. “Know your own strength, bro?”

Hudson moved toward the elevator, and as soon as he reached it, jerked one extending handle up while Nick grabbed the other. The two brothers hauled Harper’s luggage—a multicolor polka-dot and a rainbow stripe—into the foyer and clicked the handles back down. When they were done, they found the two women sitting in front of a roaring blaze. Allie had obviously tossed in a couple more logs, turning the living room into an inferno.

“Why in the world do you need that much luggage?” she asked. “I thought you were only going for a few days.”

“One has the presents for my nieces, my mom’s Frango mints, and . . .” With her head finally free of outerwear, Harper fully took in her surroundings. She let out a descending whistle as her eyes darted around the Great Room, from the oversize tree that was visible from space to the Kapoor sculpture, to the Fazoli piano and the vaulted ceilings.

Hudson had only met Harper a few times, but gauging by the opportunities he had, he was sure as hell that few things ever cut off her capacity for speech.

“Holy cow,” she finally said.

“I sort of overdid it with the decorations, huh?”

“Sort of. But crap, this place is huge.”

Nick laughed. “There’s no half-assing it with my brother. It’s always ba—”

Hudson cut Nick a look, effectively silencing him from finishing what he knew was a sentence that would contain the word “balls.” “Something to drink, Harper?”

“Um sure, thanks. Maybe a glass of wine?”

“Red or white?”

“Whatever everyone else is having is fine by me,” Harper said. She shrugged out of her coat and any further thoughts on host duties were derailed by the outfit that was revealed. Allie’s friend was done up in a mixture of patterns and colors that might as well have been an outfit from 1985, with a retro twist of the hipster movement. Hudson was clueless when it came to women’s trends, but even he could tell this woman marched to the beat of her own drum.

“Get her something to warm her up a bit first,” Allie said. “She can have the wine with dinner.”

Demanding little thing. Hudson smirked at her, then lifted a brow at Harper. “Scotch?”

“Sure, why the hell not.”

He felt his stomach growl as he made his way to the bar. Cocktail time had expired about two hours ago, but the fact that he was pouring scotch and starving to death was proof he’d say or do anything to keep that look of happiness on Allie’s face. Hell, who didn’t deserve a good shot of happy?

“So what’s the story with the redhead?” Nick asked. Hudson cut his brother a glance out of the corner of his eye and as he poured the amber liquid, having a brief moment of concern over Nick being in such close proximity to the liquor.

“Allie’s . . .” He paused as he put the crystal stopper back in the decanter. “BFF.”

Hudson held back on doing the whole finger quotations, but Nick couldn’t stop himself. “BFF?”

“Yeah, ‘Best Friends Forever,’” he said, picking up two crystal glasses full of high-octane scotch.

Nick laughed. “How long did it take for you to figure that one out, bro?”

“Hell of a lot faster than you.” Hudson strode over to the two women huddled together by the fire, deep in some female, fast-as-lightening convo.

“So after three delays and an aircraft switch, we were all set to board and then the tower closed the runways.”

“Your mom must be so disappointed.”

“She’s been in a panic since this morning.” Harper mimicked her mom’s voice. “‘Al Roker is saying it’s going to be worse than the blizzard in 2011.’” She shrugged. “But hey, it could be worse. I could be like those people stuck at O’Hare, sleeping on a cot on Christmas Eve. At least I get to have dinner with my bestie and sleep in my own bed.” Hudson held out the tumbler and Harper took it without missing a beat. “Thank you.”

“Did they rebook you for the morning?”

“Yeah, if this snow ever stops.” She glanced at the flakes coming down in a curtain of white outside the window, then took a sip of the scotch and choked. “Whoa, that will put hair on your chest.”

“Sign of a good scotch.” Hudson smirked. “Too much?

Harper took another sip. “Nope, all good. Although this one better be careful,” she said, nodding to Allie. “One glass and I’m liable to spill all her secrets.”

Hudson watched as Harper took another slug of scotch. Well, well, well. Perhaps the evening would be more interesting than he first thought.

Allie pushed to her feet. “Okay, loose lips—”

“Sink ships?” Harper smiled and Nick chuckled.

“Put the drink down and come help me get dinner on the table.”

Harper uncurled herself from the couch. “How about I bring my drink with me and help get dinner on the table? I’m starved!”

Good God, that made two of them, Hudson thought as he took another swig of his scotch. “Need help in there, baby?” He crossed his legs ankle to knee and hoped like hell she didn’t drag his ass into the kitchen and find another apron for him to sport. Though Nick looked to be game-on.

“We got this.” She bent to press a quick kiss to his lips and he was a goner.

Hudson cupped the back of her head, holding her to him. “Make it quick, I’m eager for dessert,” he murmured against her lips. Allie turned and walked into the kitchen with Harper’s arm slung through hers. He watched her leave, then glanced at his watch, counting the minutes until dinner would be over and he could have her under him shouting his name.

‘Tis-the-season-of-giving.

From the kitchen he heard Harper’s voice pitch to a new octave. “Shit, this kitchen is the size of a studio apartment.”

He chuckled into his glass.

“Looks like the white stuff is really piling up,” Nick said from behind him.

Hudson craned his neck. In the distance the frozen lake was barely visible. He joined his brother at the window for a better view. The cars below them moved at a snail’s pace down Lake Shore Drive and were nearly covered with the snow.

“Dinner is served,” Allie said. She and Harper came into the room carrying two dishes a piece.

Already in motion, Hudson moved aside the table settings that seemed to be multiplying by the hour and found space for the platters weighing down their arms. “Smells amazing,” he said. When she smiled it knocked him upside the head: this was her Elysium. This disjointed family coming together at the last minute, weather be damned, was exactly what she needed.

Cutting through the sentimental meditation was Nick’s baritone laugh and Harper’s cheerful voice. “It sure does,” she said. Her gaze dropped to the empty place settings and a string bean that had jumped ship. “But seriously, guys, you didn’t have to wait for me. I’m sure the last thing you wanted was to put dinner back in the oven.”

Allie’s mouth popped open in surprise.

Harper rolled her eyes. “Please, like I couldn’t hear all those plates clanking together. And for the record, I totally pictured you snapping your fingers at these two,” she swung her pointed finger between Nick and Hudson, “to help you race it all back to the kitchen.”

Nick laughed. “Sounds like she’s got your number, Allie.”

“Like I said, I know all the secrets.” Harper smiled at Nick as she lifted her glass to her lips and took another sip of the throat-burning scotch. “You know,” she said glancing down at the crystal tumbler. “This stuff gets a lot smoother the more you drink.”

“Definitely no more for you, then,” Allie teased as Hudson filled the wineglasses.

“So where are you supposed to be tonight?” Nick asked.

“St. Louis,” Harper said, digging into the sweet potatoes and scooping up extra marshmallows.

“Is that where you grew up?” Nick asked. He’d loaded his plate with protein and the sum of a teaspoon of veggies.

“Yeah. Allie told me you guys grew up in Michigan. What part?”

Nick halted the spoon midscoop in the stuffing and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Um, yeah, we moved around a lot.”

“Northern peninsula, mostly,” Hudson interjected. Nick’s discomfort mirrored his own. Their past was a closed subject as far as he was concerned. Needing a change, he switched gears to a safer topic. “So tell me, Harper, what sort of celebration is going on in St. Louis tonight?”

“Oh jeez, let’s see.” Harper heaped another spoonful of potatoes on her plate and it dipped from the added weight. “Well, my mom for sure made a big bowl of her famous eggnog, the one Aunt Sue swears doesn’t affect her even though she’ll start singing show tunes on the way to midnight mass. My nieces and nephews are probably so amped up on cookies and candy canes by now that if we open the window we can probably hear my sister yelling about Santa’s hotline all the way from here.” Harper set her plate down and glanced at her watch. “And in about an hour Uncle Eddie will be passed out on the couch watching It’s a Wonderful Life with his hand tucked into the waistband of his pants.”