A Very Merry Nanny (Very Merry #2)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

EMMA

“ E mma?” Claire’s voice calls from the hallway. “Are you awake?”

I walk across the room and crack open the door.

She leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. “Did Hudson just deliver a cup of coffee to your window, or did I imagine seeing him stalk across the yard?”

A wide smile spreads across my face as I hold up the red cup with a white lid. “It’s hot cocoa.”

Her mouth drops open in disbelief. “I don’t know how you do it. I’m honestly convinced you’re a man whisperer.”

“If that were true, I wouldn't be single,” I mutter, sipping the cocoa with a smirk. I would have any man I want.

Claire reaches for my cup.

“Hey!”

She lifts it high, and I notice something written on the bottom.

HUDSON JOLLY WANTS TO FUCK YOU!

The handwriting is surprisingly neat.

I burst into laughter, and Claire quickly joins in.

“So, he’s your Mr. November?” Her eyes sparkle with mischief.

“You're not playing into this, too. You know the internet decides, not me.”

“Maybe this time they got it right?” she shrugs.

“Who knows? Oh, can you please sign my cookie contest form? I need permission from a resident.”

She tilts her head, surprised. “You’re serious?”

“A citizen of Merryville has to approve my entry, but they forfeit their right to compete. It’s a new rule this year.”

“It’s that serious?” she asks, signing at the bottom. “Just remember me when you’re the Christmas cookie queen, okay?”

I snicker. “I will. Oh, and speaking of rules, Hudson knows mine.”

...and he kissed me last night.

I keep that last part to myself, tucked away with the butterflies that flutter each time I think of him. I’m so afraid of falling for this grumpy man.

I set a sweater and a pair of jeans on the bed, then rummage through my suitcase for my boots. I didn’t travel light because I wasn’t sure how long I’d stay. “You only give those to men you’re interested in.”

“It’s not like that,” I explain, knowing I can never share the details of our conversation.

A teasing smile stretches across her face. “You’re lying.”

“I wish he’d give me the time of day,” I confess.

“Then let him. Fuck around and find out.”

“What have you done with my sister?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, recalling how strict she used to be during her CEO days.

“Jake and I started as a fling. Highly recommend it. It was hot and passionate, and knowing there was an end date to our situation only made it more intense.”

I’m surprised. “What? I had no idea.”

“It was the catalyst, a part of our origin story.” She smiles sweetly as if reliving the memories.

I take a moment to get dressed, sliding on my tight jeans and appreciating how they fit. There are perks to having best friends who are fashion designers. After I wiggle into my sweater, I turn to her.

“So, what rules did you give Jake?” I wonder if they’re similar to my own.

“I didn’t.”

My eyes widen in shock. Claire, who has always been anti-love, was determined to protect herself after discovering she was the other woman. “Jake put rules into place? I didn’t realize he had it in him,” I mutter. He’s too nice .

“When he's in a mood, he quickly turns into Hudson.”

My curiosity piques. “Oh my God, tell me these rules. I’m invested.”

“There were only two: no strings attached and no falling in love,” she says, shaking her head playfully. “I agreed to it like I could control my emotions.”

Laughter escapes me. “Yeah, that's hilarious, considering how obsessed you two are with each other.”

“I came to Merryville to show Dad how ruthless I could be. Most men are good for only one thing, so I was happy to have a fling with a hottie for the holidays. After that, the rules didn’t matter.”

I wrap my sister in a tight hug.

“What's this for?” she asks.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I admit.

“One reason why you shouldn't leave until after New Year’s.” She squeezes me and laughs, and I meet her gaze. The older she gets, the more she resembles our mom. “Who were you with last night? Is it safe to assume it was Hudson, considering he delivered hot cocoa to your room?”

“How do you know I was with someone last night?” I wonder if Jake spilled the beans. If he did, I won't trust him again.

She shrugs. “The hickeys on your neck.”

My smile fades immediately. I move to a full-length mirror in the corner of the room and tilt my head to the side. Dark spots pepper my skin, and memories of Hudson’s mouth and teeth flash in my mind. He smelled so good like he had just stepped out of the shower.

I swallow hard as I meet Claire’s eyes in the mirror.

She smirks. “Must've been a good night.”

“He's a bastard,” I whisper. He knew exactly what he was doing—claiming me as his.

“Do you think he’ll be your Mr. December, too?”

I bite my lip. At the rate my heart is racing, he might be my Mr. Forever.

Claire moves to the door. “Be careful, Em. The Jolly boys are addictive. One minute they're leaving hickeys on your neck, and the next they're sliding diamonds on your finger.” She wiggles her ring, which shines brightly in the overhead light.

“I'm already screwed!” I cry playfully as she leaves. I return to the mirror and grab my makeup bag, knowing I can't go out in public like this—though I can't stop smiling. He wants people to know I’m taken. Here I am, already marked by a beautiful, mischievous man.

The fantasy of him pressed between my thighs is quickly ripped away when I remember his words: this can never happen again.

I take a picture of my battle wounds and text it to him.

Emma

Please explain.

A moment later, he hearts the image. I expect a follow-up message, but none comes. I wish I could see his reaction.

I apply concealer and blend it with a brush. Once the bruises are mostly covered, I dust on some powder. Now, it’s like it never happened—well, until I shower.

After Claire leaves for work, I jot down the ingredients I need for the cookies I'm baking this weekend. I have two recipes in mind: a chewy oatmeal raisin and a raspberry almond shortbread. While I’m most excited about the latter, I need to research previous winners.

I’m determined to become the Christmas cookie queen.

Tinsel prances toward me as I leave my room with my grocery list. Her bell jingles as she dances beside my feet. I bend down to pet her, and instead of running away, she nudges her head into my hand.

“Aww, did we become instant friends?” I ask, squatting to scratch her chin. She purrs and rubs against my fingers.

“Did you drool?” I giggle. “Claire told me you hated people. That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

Then she bites me.

“Ouch! Okay, maybe it’s not.”

I pull my hand away, but she begs for more pets. “You're a Jolly. You give too many mixed signals.”

I scratch under her chin a little more, and I pull away before she bites me again.

On the drive to town, I try to recall the name of the guy who helped me. Was it Ethan? Brandon? Brent. Yes, it was Brent.

Once on Main Street, I notice more people stroll the sidewalks than had a few days ago. Heads turn as I drive by, making me self-conscious. I slide into an open parking spot in front of the building.

A guy stops me on the sidewalk.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen an M5 in person,” he says.

My brows lift, and I nervously laugh. “Excuse me?”

He smiles. “Your car. Expensive.”

“Oh, it’s a rental. I didn’t pick it.” I glance at the car, realizing how extravagant it is. “Anyway, have a good day.”

“You too,” he replies, and I decide it’s time to trade that vehicle in for something else. I don’t want attention. Not here.

I enter city hall and spot a familiar face. “Hey, Brent. How have you been?”

Today, he’s wearing a bright red polo with a Santa beard and hat logo. “Hey Emma, great. Did you get your form signed?”

I smile, realizing I’m already on a first-name basis with someone who remembers me. It makes me happy.

“Ah yes, the paperwork.” I slide it across the desk to him, and he checks everything. “So, is there a place where all the past winners are listed?”

He chuckles. “You sure you’re not a master cookie maker? That’s what they usually want to see, too.”

I tilt my head at him. “Look me up on the internet. You’ll learn plenty about me, but baking cookies isn’t one of my hobbies.” It’s a secret; only those close to me know. I never flaunted my sadness; I quietly baked my way through it.

“The application looks good.” He tears it off the back and hands me the rules packet. “Don’t forget to turn in a batch of cookies on the first Saturday in December.”

“Okay. Got it. The Hall of Fame?”

“Right, if you walk down that hallway and take a right, you'll find a glass case. You can't miss it.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck.”

“You said I'd need it,” I remind him.

“Oh, you will, especially when the purple hairs find out you've entered.”

“They're going down,” I say with a laugh. “You'll see.”

As I move down the hallway, I’m struck by how this part of the building resembles a museum. The guided tour begins with the history of Merryville. My eyes scan the billboards until I find one detailing the town's story.

Merryville was founded by three families whose names are synonymous with the holiday spirit: the Merrys, the Jollys, and the Mistletoes. This unique community quickly emerged as a sanctuary for individuals with Christmas-themed surnames. Six months after its inception, two additional families, the Gingerbreads and the Sleighs, joined the growing settlement. Within the first decade, Merryville experienced a steady influx of new residents, most of whom shared a common heritage linked to the holiday—a phenomenon locals attribute to the enduring “Christmas spirit.” This distinctive characteristic makes Merryville unmatched, with only a handful of imitators managing to survive.

The legacy of Merryville, rooted in its founding families and their festive vision, continues to thrive, captivating visitors and residents alike with its enchanting holiday magic. The magic of Merryville is much more than an old wives’ tale; it lives in the hearts of its townsfolk.

I continue around the room until I spot what I've been searching for—the Christmas Cookie Hall of Fame. Each winner has a professional photo taken of them receiving their trophy, with their names etched in golden letters alongside the year won and the type of cookie.

“Mostly gingerbread,” I whisper, scanning down the names until I stop at Betty Jolly, who won consecutively for nearly two decades.

I text my sister.

Emma

Who's Betty?

Claire

Jake’s grandmother.

Emma

I want to meet her.

Claire

What a coincidence! She wants to meet you too!

Emma

Oh, can you set something up?

Claire

I’d love to.

I can’t help but smile mischievously; this woman must know the secret to winning that contest. There has to be an advantage. Excitement courses through me, and I can't wait to meet her.

As I leave the building, I notice a corkboard covered with various papers tacked to it. A bright green garage sale sign catches my eye. Next to it are a couple of photos of lost pets and a few help-wanted advertisements—one for Main Street Coffee and another for the grocery store. Then, I spot a hastily pinned notice at the bottom.

Temporary Nanny Needed

(Just for the holidays!)

Must be local and have a valid driver's license.

Job ends on December 31st.

In-person interviews will be held this Saturday.

Call to schedule an in-person interview.

At the bottom, numbered tabs flap in the breeze. Many have already been taken. I confirm the number in my contacts. It's him.

I frown, genuinely disappointed that I won’t be helping out with Colby. He loves LEGOs, just like I do. The kid overloads me with his cuteness, especially when he talks a mile a minute. With Claire and Jake at work, I’ll be lonely.

Now that I’ve deactivated my social media accounts, I have nothing to fill my time except for baking and my thoughts of Hudson.

Lucky me!

Hudson meets me by the pavilion at noon, looking deliciously attractive. He’s wearing dark-washed jeans tucked into boots, with his hands resting in his jacket pockets. The Jolly Christmas Tree Farm baseball hat obscures his face, but I can feel his gaze on me. As I approach, a hint of a smirk flits across his lips.

“Hi,” he says, his eyes taking me in.

“Hi.” I admire the scruff along his chiseled jaw.

“I almost thought you wouldn’t show.”

His gaze drifts to my neck, and I smirk. “I’m a pro at keeping secrets.”

He chuckles, unable to suppress his amusement.

Ah, I broke through already. Always a good sign when he’s laughing. “So, what are we doing today?”

“I’m on stable duty,” he replies.

“There are horses here?”

“Of course,” he says, glancing at his watch. “And we should hurry. We don’t have much time.”

Hudson unlatches the radio at his hip and speaks into it. “It’s Hudson. Goin’ to the barn.”

“Heard,” Jake calls back.

I follow him across the pasture to the four-wheeler. He hops on and then looks back at me. “Coming?”

“Yes,” I reply, eager for the adventure. I swing my leg over the back and scoot closer to him.

“Hold on to me,” he instructs.

Carefully, I wrap my arms around his body and hold on tight. He lifts my thighs effortlessly, pulling me closer. My breasts press against his back.

“That’s better,” he says, releasing me. I can’t help but smile, relieved he can’t see the giddiness on my face.

I squeal, tightening my grip as we take off. He smells like leather and earth, and I inhale deeply, wishing I could bottle it.

“Wow,” I exclaim as the breeze tousles my hair.

He laughs as we continue down a trail wide enough for a truck. I bask in the warmth of his body while my heart races.

Conifers line both sides of the trail, stretching as far as I can see. I imagine what it would have been like to grow up here, playing freely on this property. I would have loved it, but instead, I was shuttled in and out of boarding schools. Often, I wonder how different my life would have been if I had experienced a normal childhood without all the glitz and glamor.

When we reach the big red barn, Hudson shuts off the engine. I reluctantly release my grip on him as he climbs off.

“I envy you,” I say as he helps me to my feet, feeling steady on the ground. “I don't know if you realize how lucky you are.”

He grins. “I do know, and these days, I don't take any of it for granted. After becoming a dad, I truly understood how wonderful life is on the farm. It's why I never want to leave. This is home.”

I study him, appreciating that he trusts me enough to share something personal. Hudson could keep it simple with short sentences and straightforward answers, but he’s making an effort.

“Well, the farm feels like home. I can almost imagine living here.”

He's filled with gratitude. The fact that he can express that after everything he's been through shows he's not a Grinch. Hudson's just trying to protect his heart from being shattered; I can’t fault him for that, but I won’t be the next woman to hurt him.

“Would you move here?” he asks, leading me into the barn.

I glance at him as we walk down the center aisle. “When my sister has kids, I want to be involved.”

“That was a non-answer,” he replies. “It's a simple question.”

“Is it?” I ask, looking around the barn. Ten stalls line each side, and hay bales are stored in the loft. I peek into the tack room and see a handful of saddles.

“Another non-answer.”

I turn to face him. “There are a lot of hypotheticals that come with that. Is the love of my life here? If so, yes. Without question. If not, I don’t know. I won’t settle down until I find the person I’m supposed to be with. My original answer was easier.”

Hudson steps closer, and my back presses against the doorframe. My heart races as I feel the heat rising within me. “This is why we shouldn't be alone.”

“Why?”

He leans in slowly, my jaw tilting upward. “Because I want to kiss you.”

“Why do you resist it so much? Am I not your type?”

His mouth hovers over mine, and my eyes flutter closed. “You're everything I want.”

I gasp, warm breath escaping in quick bursts. I feel weak in the knees, his closeness makes me dizzy. “I'll take the risk if you do,” I whisper.

“Fuck, Emma,” he says, and our mouths collide. This time, we’re dangerously falling, tumbling through space together as his fingers weave through my hair.

I reach for his belt, and he reaches for my jeans, easily unbuttoning and unzipping them. I grab his hand and shove it inside my soaked panties as he continues to kiss me. As soon as his finger brushes against my clit, I groan. “No one...no one has touched me since?—“

“Shh,” he whispers, sucking on my bottom lip. “Right now, you're mine. And only mine.”

“Fuck.” I cling to his neck for support, and even though he’s barely touched me, I’m ready to come.

“Hudson,” I pant, wanting the orgasm to consume me as he slides a finger inside me while still teasing my clit. “Yes, yes. That feels so good,” I huff, every muscle tensing as I climb toward ecstasy.

“Hudson!” a deep voice suddenly yells.

“No,” I hiss, my eyes going wide as I hurriedly pull up my panties and zip my pants.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Hudson meets my gaze and kisses me fiercely before walking away, adjusting himself. I lean against the wall, breathless and squeezing my thighs together.

I was so close; my heart feels like it might explode. I shut my eyes, realizing my rules have completely unraveled. My sister is right...it's time to fuck around and find out. I run my fingers through my hair as I listen to their conversation.

“Wasn't Emma with you?” Jake asks, his voice unmistakable. He is, without a doubt, the biggest cockblock on the planet. I step into the open and glare at him, hands on my hips.

“You have the absolute worst timing.”

He looks at me apologetically. “Sorry, Claire told me to tell you your dad is in town. You weren't answering your phone.”

“Shit,” I mutter, remembering I put it on silent earlier. Lost in the moment, I hadn't paid attention to my notifications.

I check my phone—five missed calls and several texts.

Claire

Dad thinks he's staying in the room you're in until Christmas.

“Guess I’m sleeping on the couch until December 8th,” I groan.

Hudson watches me intently. “Why?”

“Because my dad just wrecked my plans. Per usual.”

Jake gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. We can get the cabin ready this weeke–”

“No. You can stay with me,” Hudson interjects. “The house has four vacant bedrooms.”

“You have six bedrooms total?” I ask, surprised. I knew the house was large, but not that big.

He locks eyes with me, and I can’t shake the feeling of his stronghold over me.

“Great idea,” Jake says, patting Hudson on the back. “Crisis averted, that’s settled.”

“It’s just temporary until Emma leaves,” Hudson clarifies.

I raise my eyebrows. “And what if I want to stay longer? Claire wants me here until New Year’s.”

“The invitation is open with no expiration date,” Hudson offers, but I see something swirling in his eyes—pure obsession—that sends a thrill through me.

“And what if that’s forever?” Jake asks with a laugh as he turns to leave.

Hudson and I both ignore him.

“See you two later,” he singsongs walking to the truck. When it rumbles down the road, kicking up dust, I know we’re finally alone again.

The tension thickens.

Hudson slides the finger that had been buried deep inside me into his mouth.

“You have no idea what you’ve agreed to,” he says with a sexy smirk.

“Mm. That’s my line.”