A Very Merry Nanny (Very Merry #2)

Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

EMMA

L eaving Hudson with that expression on his face was difficult, but he needs to learn to trust me, even if it means taking the hard road.

When I return tonight, we have a lot to discuss. I've spent the last two days reflecting on what we're going through. The higher I climb with him, the harder we’ll fall together. My mended heart can’t withstand another break, but I’d risk it for him if he’s willing to take the same chance, even if it’s just until January when I leave.

Having him for the holidays is better than not having him at all—I truly believe that. Hudson Jolly, Mr. Grumpy, makes me smile. Butterflies swarm in my stomach again, and after I park, my nerves start to get the best of me.

Taking a deep breath, I get out of the car and knock on the door.

I hear footsteps lightly thump across the floor, followed by gentle laughter. The door swings open, revealing an older woman with bright green eyes. She draws me in instantly.

“You must be Mawmaw.”

Her smile radiates like golden sunshine.

“And you must be the woman who's marrying my grandson.” She pulls me into her arms, and her scent is reminiscent of brown sugar.

I hug her back as if I've known her my entire life. “You flatter me. But… which grandson?”

“I already love you,” she exclaims. “But you know which one.”

Claire warned me that she's the town gossip. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a file on me hidden somewhere among the Texas Monthly magazines scattered across her coffee table. A crocheted blanket hangs on the back of her couch, and behind it sits a stand filled with dozens more; I suspect she made them all herself.

I follow her down a narrow hallway adorned with pictures of children. The delicious aromas of food waft through the air. My stomach growls, but I slow down to examine each photo.

It's clear she's a proud grandmother and great-grandmother.

“Whoa,” I say, halting at a picture of Hudson in a cap and gown. His green eyes seem to look right through me, as if he knows something I don’t.

“Cookie graduated with his master's degree in agriculture,” she shares. “He was the first grandbaby to do it—top of his class, too.”

“So he's a smart cookie?” I quip, and she laughs. The fact that she calls him Cookie is so endearing I can hardly contain it. I have so much more to learn about Hudson, and I hope one day I’ll know him like the back of my hand.

The thought makes my smile linger.

She steps into the dining room, and that's when I spot Claire. Of course, she's early; being late is a cardinal sin for her. She must have parked on the opposite side of the house.

On the table, there's a feast of golden-brown fried chicken, cheesy macaroni, and green beans laden with large chunks of bacon.

“Mawmaw,” I say, astonished. “You didn't have to do all of this for me.”

We sit down, and she pours me a glass of thick eggnog.

“Sweetie, it was no trouble at all. First impressions matter.”

I take a big gulp of my drink and catch a hint of alcohol—it's spiked.

“Be careful with that. I added a little giggle juice,” she says, taking a sip herself. “By the way, I love that skirt. It makes you shine like the diamond you are.”

“Thank you! I do love shiny things,” I reply, feeling the conversation flow effortlessly. I nearly laugh at how nervous I was earlier.

Claire flashes a cheeky grin. “I was worried you'd be late.”

“No way.” If only she knew how close I came to ditching. Hudson almost convinced me to drop his grandma.

“Oh, by the way, Hudson thinks I'm on a date with Lucas right now.”

“You canceled that days ago. Didn't you clarify that with him?” Claire asks.

Mawmaw watches me intently, noting the small details.

“I asked him to trust me.” I take another drink of nog; I think it might be my new favorite holiday drink. The recipe is a must-have for sure.

“Honey, when it comes to men, sometimes it's good to let them squirm a little.”

I burst into laughter.

She continues, reminiscing, “I remember when men would do anything to win my attention. If only I could be young and flirty again. But anyway, tell me ab?—“

A knock sounds at the front door, interrupting her. We both stop talking and listen.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Were we expecting anyone else?” Mawmaw asks Claire.

My sister shakes her head. “It was a girls' night only. I told Jake and Lucas no boys allowed.”

The door creaks open, and heavy footsteps echo across the wooden floor.

“Mawmaw! Where are you?”

I freeze—I recognize that voice.

Claire smirks and lifts her glass, raising an eyebrow but she doesn’t take a sip.

“In the dining room, Cookie.”

My blood races, and my heart begins to pound.

He's here

“I'm sorry to interrupt. I need to talk to you. I think I'm fall—“ Hudson pauses at the entryway. His scowl vanishes as he spots me, and the realization of my presence in his grandmother's dining room washes over him. He gradually relaxes.

“Ah, this is why you reacted that way.”

A playful smile spreads across my lips. “I asked you to trust me.”

Hudson glances from Claire to Mawmaw and then to the food laid out on the table.

“What were you saying, honey?” Mawmaw asks as she grabs tongs to serve a crispy chicken thigh. “Girls, go ahead and fix yourselves a plate. We're eating family-style here.”

The electricity between Hudson and me is palpable.

“Have you eaten dinner already? Join us.” Mawmaw gestures for him to hurry. “Come on now, no time for shyness, honey. What's on your mind?”

Hudson clears his throat. “Mom’s picking up a pizza from town.”

He steps fully into the dining room, wrapping his arms around Mawmaw from behind as she stays seated. “Love you, Mawmaw.” He plants a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll come over and visit again soon. I promise.”

“You better bring your Cookie Cutter,” she playfully pats his arm before turning to him. “Let me walk you out.”

“No, no, apologies for interrupting. Y’all have fun.” As he excuses himself, I catch a glimpse of a smirk on his face. The cocky bastard is pleased I wasn't with Lucas. Truthfully, I am, too.

His grandmother doesn't take the hint and follows.

Once they're out of sight, Claire's mouth drops open. “Holy shit. He's totally obsessed with you.”

I roll my eyes playfully.

“I'm serious. I've never seen him act like that, Em,” she insists. “You need to tell him that you and Lucas are a prank before it goes on any longer. Imagine if the roles were reversed.”

Just the thought of Hudson with someone else makes my head spin. “I'm going to talk to him after dinner tonight.”

“Oh my God. You're falling in love with him,” she whispers.

My cheeks flush, and I wonder if it's the eggnog or just my thoughts of Hudson.

“I—I don't know,” I admit. “But he makes my heart flutter.”

“You felt butterflies?” she asks in a whisper.

“Yes,” I reply.

She stares at me until Mawmaw returns to her seat. “Well, go on, finish your conversation and eat up.”

We each reach for a different dish. I go straight for the green beans and swap them for the macaroni with Claire.

“That was interesting, wasn't it?” Mawmaw glances at me, her lips curving into a smile. “Witnessing how Cookie looks at you... well, I've never seen him like that with anyone. Destined hearts and Christmas miracles,” she says.

“Are you sure?” I desperately want to believe her.

“Does the sun rise every day?”

We pass around oversized food bowls, serving ourselves generous portions. The savory aroma of fried chicken makes my mouth water.

“Yes.” I hiccup as the spiked eggnog finally kicks in. “Excuse me, sorry.”

“Help yourself,” Mawmaw offers.

“You're a very bad influence.” My cheeks tingle.

She chuckles. “Oh, honey, I've been told that many times in my life. Now, tell me about you and Cookie.”

“I, uh...”

She winks at me. “And don't forget to grab yourself a biscuit. And make sure to add more to your plate. There's more than enough to go around.”

I obey, not wanting to offend her, though I'm unsure how I'll eat all this food. I'll figure it out. I pick up a chicken leg and take a crunchy bite. The outside is crispy, while the inside is juicy and tender. “Oh my God.”

Claire chuckles. “Right?”

I glance at it. “How is this so good?”

“Now who's flattering whom?” Mawmaw asks, taking a bite of her own.

“Mawmaw's being modest,” Claire chimes in. “But she makes the best food in the South.”

“It’s pretty good. So, you’re living with Hudson and Colby?” Mawmaw redirects the conversation.

“I'm only temporarily staying there while my father is in town. At least until December 30th, then I'll return to New York.”

Claire's jaw nearly drops. “Wait. You'll be here for Christmas?”

Tears fill her eyes, and I feel a swell of emotion. I want to stand up and hug her. I hate seeing my sister cry, even if they’re happy tears. “I'm sorry. I'm just overwhelmed. I've been hoping for this.”

“Aww, don't do that.” When she cries, I cry too, just like we did as kids. “Hudson interviewed nannies today, and I think they all sucked. Tonight he told me that if I wanted to help with Colby, I could. The kid and I are going to have so much fun. I seriously can't wait.” The thought of not being alone while everyone else works fills me with excitement.

Mawmaw notices my mood. “He's a sweetheart, just like his daddy. Colby reminds me so much of Cookie when he was little.”

I take a forkful of velvety macaroni that’s creamy and smoky. It’s the most delightful taste I've ever experienced. “This is my new favorite food.”

Claire chuckles. “I love it too. But this woman is super secretive with her recipe. Every time I make it, it never tastes like this.”

“Honey, you know I don’t measure anything. It’s tricky to get it right when I go by taste alone.”

“Did Jake tell you my sister's entering the Christmas Cookie contest?” Claire shifts the subject.

“Oh, fantastic! I love hearing that. Any idea what you're baking?” She looks at me with curiosity.

“Not yet. I wanted to get your opinion. Gingerbread is the most popular cookie, followed by chocolate chip.”

She smirks. “You did your research. What do you want to know?”

“What would you bake if you were me?”

“Hmm.” She drinks her eggnog and refills our glasses. “My favorite cookies are gingerbread. It’s a secret family recipe that no one’s cracked yet.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” I laugh. “I’d love to taste them.”

“I have,” Claire replies, taking a bite of green beans. “The night Jake and I made gingerbread houses together was magical. I’m pretty sure that’s when we fell in love.”

“But you don’t know the recipe?” I ask.

“No, Jake takes that secret seriously. He won’t even prep it in front of me.”

My mouth drops open. “Okay, so I guess the only way to get it is to marry a Jolly, right?”

She rests her chin on her hands. “So, when are the weddings?”

I burst into laughter and lift my left hand. “Ringless, Mawmaw.”

“Just wait,” she says and then turns to Claire. “I had a dream about you, honey. You were pregnant.”

“That's so random.” Claire laughs nervously, and I notice she hasn’t taken a sip of her eggnog. Our eyes meet briefly as she catches me staring.

“I made chocolate pie,” Mawmaw says, redirecting the attention in the room. I watch Claire let out a breath of relief. This conversation may be over for now, but I won’t forget.

We chat about the weather, the farm, and the snow globe shop. Mawmaw shares tidbits about contestants in the cookie contest, so I make mental notes of what to expect.

Mawmaw makes a pot of coffee and pulls out the Baileys from the fridge. “Do you want a pour?” she asks.

“Sure,” I reply, and we enjoy our chocolate pie with homemade whipped cream, smiling so hard my face starts to hurt.

Once we finish eating, Claire answers a call from Jake while I help clear the table. “Mealtime is special. It's not just about nourishment; it's about bringing joy to the table and sharing an experience with loved ones. I know you’re looking for the secret to winning the cookie contest.”

I nod and gather the silverware. “I went through a tough breakup a few years ago, and whenever I felt myself slipping into depression, I would bake. I baked a lot. For months, I perfected my recipes because baking was all I had. Winning this isn’t just a contest for me; it’s proof that I can bake for fun, not just as an escape from a difficult time in my life,” I explain.

It’s just the two of us now. She puts the leftover chicken in a plastic storage bag.

“You want to know how to win, and it’s simple: Bake with love. It always shines through and makes everything better.” Mawmaw pulls me into a tight hug. “Plus, you have my Cookie to help you. He was always my good luck charm.”

Claire returns to the kitchen, moving directly to Mawmaw who releases me from her embrace.

“Well, I'm going to head out. Thank you for everything. It was incredible, as always,” Claire says, kissing Mawmaw on the cheek as if they were at an art gallery.

“I should go, too,” I tell her, and she pulls me into another hug.

“Take care of him,” she advises. “You're what he's been waiting for all his life.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as I step away.

I follow Claire to the porch.

“Are you pregnant?” I suddenly ask.

If I were guessing, I'd say she doesn’t blink for at least twenty seconds.

“Oh my God, you are,” I whisper, realizing the truth.

“Shh,” she replies in a whisper. “I’m not. Not yet. We’re trying, though. It’s my Christmas wish.”

I wrap my arms around her and squeeze tight, and she screams with joy. “No one can know, okay?”

“Okay. Oh my God. It’s going to happen,” I say. “Even if it doesn’t happen by Christmas, okay?”

“I’m excited. I think everything went great tonight. She likes you,” Claire ensures.

“It did. I already love her,” I say, giggling, realizing how tipsy I am.

“Do I need to drive you home?” she asks.

I shake my head. “I’m going to text Hudson.”

Claire wraps me in a hug. “Okay. Goodnight. I love you. Oh, I parked over there.”

“Goodnight,” I say, and we exchange a smile. Seconds later, the engine cranks, and she slowly drives down the driveway onto the main road. I look up at the night sky and find myself wishing upon the stars.

As I approach my car, I pull out my phone to text Hudson. When I look up, I see his truck parked beside my car.

He leans against it with his arms crossed, staring at me as if I’m the only star in the sky. He’s a wet dream.

I take a deep breath, a smile spreading across my lips.

He shakes his head, and the silent conversation moves me forward. “I'm not letting you drive after drinking Mawmaw's giggle juice. It’s tons of spiced rum, and you’re a lightweight.”

He opens the door for me, and I climb inside. “I was going to text you.”

“I know,” he says, gently shutting the door.

The scent of his clean skin and aftershave fills the cab as soon as he joins me. When he backs out of the driveway, gravel crunches under the tires, and a country song plays on the radio.

“Oh, by the way, I gave Lucas your message. He said you can go fuck yourself back,” I say.

Hudson shakes his head but can't hide his smirk. “I was going fucking crazy. I almost drove to Moonshiners and threw you over my shoulder like a caveman.”

“Please,” I reply. “Men don’t actually do that.”

As we park outside his house, he opens my door. Moments later, to my surprise, he lifts me over his shoulder and carries me across the yard. I squeal and burst into laughter.

“Real men aren’t afraid to carry their women,” he teases, giving my ass a playful smack before he strides through the living room and places me down on the couch.

He leans over me, his intense gaze locking onto mine.

“I'm your woman?” I ask, half amused.

“Do you want to be?” he responds.

Our lips collide, our tongues dancing in perfect harmony. He grinds against me, and I can feel him through my soaking wet panties.

“Be mine,” I whisper. “At least until Christmas.”

“Fuck, Emma,” he breathes, his teeth grazing the delicate skin of my neck.

“No strings attached, and no falling in love?” I question, my hands reaching for his jeans button.

“I can settle for no strings attached. The other part? It might be too late for that,” he admits.

I place my hands on his face, leaning in to ghost my lips over his. Even though it’s early winter, it feels like the height of summer in here. “Hudson.”

Just then, the front door swings open. “Sorry, I forgot?—“

Hudson jumps up, and I turn my gaze toward the door.

“Shit. Mom!” he exclaims.

I close my eyes tightly, wishing I could vanish.

The front door shuts, and I hear her instruct Colby to return to the SUV.

Hudson chuckles lightly into my ear.

“Did she see us?” I ask, a hint of panic in my voice.

“Yes,” he replies, sitting up and brushing my hair away from my face. “I don’t care who knows. If you’re mine for the holidays, then you’re mine, Emma. Just make sure that’s what you want.”

The doorbell rings, and he takes a deep breath. “Surprised that thing works. No one ever uses it.”

He adjusts himself and buckles his belt as he stands, and I sit up as he makes his way to the door.

“Oh, hey, Mom. Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says like she didn't just witness our tongues in each other's mouth and him grinding against me.

“Forgot to grab Colby's overnight bag,” she tells me. I glance back and spot it beside the couch where he had placed it earlier.

I hand it to her, and she studies me for a few seconds. “Have a good night.”

“Good night, Ma,” Hudson replies, and the door closes behind her.

Before he walks away, the deadbolt clicks into place.

Hudson turns to me, a grin on his face. “Want some more eggnog? I’ve got Grandma’s giggle juice in the cabinet.”

“Fuck yes,” I whisper, eager to relax after being caught by his mother.