Page 92 of Cabin Fever Baby

TWENTY-FOUR

2 Days til Christmas 11 PM

The British voiceof my maps app turned me onto another winding street that looked like the last. I had no idea where the heck I was going, but I hoped my maps app did.

I’d turned off Lakeview Road to find a series of houses in different styles. A magnificent Victorian with charming gingerbread accents was fully lit up. Even the trees were filled with bright white holiday lights.

The house itself was dark save for a single light on the upper floor.

My app told me I was arriving at my destination to the house next door. It was a split ranch which was as different from a Victorian as could be. And the house a little farther down was a Craftsman.

None of them should have been built at the same time as the other.

Crescent Cove, and especially the lake area, was a delightful mix of houses, large and small. It felt like it could be home.

And that was saying something, since my childhood home was gone.

I’d been afraid I would never feel like that again.

Maybe with Hudson—if I could make him give me a second chance—we might find the right combination for each other.

At least when I wasn’t on the road with Q.

That was my sticking point. Could I keep Hudson and still head out on the road with my brother?

I shook that off as I turned into the driveway.

One thing at a time.

Quickly, I flipped down the mirror in the car and fussed with my hair. Mel had put some sort of treatment on it that made the strands feel softer than silk. Whatever she’d done, I’d need a whole bottle of it because she’d made me look phenomenal.

I straightened the neck of my sweater and unzipped my coat because I was sweating to death. Nerves buzzed under my skin.

“You can do this,” I said to my reflection, then I slapped the mirror shut and flipped up the visor.

The lights in the house were still lit up and the outside lawn had an eerie glow under mounds of snow. The decorations had probably been buried, thanks to the storm. But it was a tidy house and people seemed to be awake.

That had to be a good sign.

“You’re insane, Ocean. It’s so late,” I whispered to myself as I walked up the drive.

The closer I got to the house, my gaze zeroed in on someone on the porch. I picked up speed as I recognized the shoulders and body type.

I ran up the steps. “Please don’t send me away. Can we talk? Please?”

The man turned. His high-end topcoat swung open to reveal a suit.

What was Hudson doing in a suit?

Did they have more than one midnight mass? Wasn’t that tomorrow?

I rushed forward and threw my arms around him. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to keep things from you—” I cut myself off.

The man froze, his arms wide and away from me.

His scent was wrong.

Not cedar and spice.