Page 57 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

One of my hometown’s most iconic spots had been completely transformed, with oversized candy canes framing the steps, fake snow dusting the railings, and massive red bows tied around every post. In the middle of it all, a pair of actors with cameramen circling them were locked in what appeared to be averyserious holiday-related argument.

Sofia stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes lighting up like a kid who’d just spotted Santa at the mall. “Shut up! They’re filming a Christmas movie!”

Something about her excitement tugged at me. After everything she’d been through, seeing her look so happy—for a change—made me want to stand here as long as she wanted, no matter how ridiculous this whole setup was.

I was no stranger to movie sets after growing up here, but Sofia? She could watch every second of it if it kept that smile on her face.

“You wanna hang out and watch?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the small crowd that had gathered.

The locals were bundled up in their winter best, some holding steaming cups of cocoa, others just enjoying the free entertainment. A few older residents whispered their own running commentary about the scene being acted out in front of us.

“Did you hear they’re filming four different endings for this one?” one woman murmured to her friend.

The friend nodded. “I hope they pick the one where she leaves him and goes back to her high school sweetheart. This guy’s eyebrows are too distracting. I can see them from here!”

“Pretty sure they’re not supposed to be invisible, MaryAnn,” the first woman replied dryly.

Sofia stifled a laugh, and I had to admit, it was contagious.

The actors on set were giving it their all, though. The man was one of those classically handsome guys with the kind of jawline that probably came with a Hollywood price tag. Though, he really did have some seriously bushy eyebrows. He pleaded with the leading lady, who stood with her arms crossed and a look of defiance on her face.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d skip Christmas for a business meeting!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying thanks to the now-quiet set.

“Oh, please,” she shot back. “You skipped last Christmas, and the Christmas before that. This is about more than just one holiday, Chester. It’s about us!”

“Wow,” Sofia whispered, her eyes wide as she leaned a little closer to me. “They’re really going for it.”

I smirked at her comment as the feel of her breath on my skin sent a flash of heat up my neck. “Think he’ll win her over?”

“Probably. It’s a Christmas movie. I bet they kiss under the mistletoe before the next commercial break.”

“They’re filming a movie. No commercials.”

“Details,” she said, grinning up at me as she kept her voice as low as she could. “But seriously, how much do you wanna bet this scene ends with fake snow falling and as they realize their love is stronger than the nonsense they’re fighting about?”

“Too predictable,” I whispered back. “I’m betting the dog shows up with some conveniently placed mistletoe.”

“Deal,” she said, shaking my hand like we were settling on high stakes.

We stayed like that for a while, her hand still in mine as we watched the overly dramatic scene unfold. Sofia laughed softly atsomething one of the movie characters said—a cheesy, over-the-top line about love and miracles.

I couldn’t help but watch her. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed. The way she let herself enjoy the moment, even with everything hanging over her head.

It hit me then, like a punch to the gut: the lengths I’d go to make sure she stayed this way. Safe. Smiling. Herself.

Whoever had chosen to mess with her—whoever was watching or waiting or whatever else their twisted plan involved—they wouldn’t hurt her. Not while I was around.

Sofia turned, catching my gaze, and cocked her head. “What’s with the look?”

“What look?”

She narrowed her eyes, but her lips twitched into a smirk. “You’re so serious. Relax, Hudson. Let’s just forget about the drama for today.”

“I’ll work on it,” I said, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto my face. “For you.”

“For me,” she echoed, her grin widening. “There’s a real softie under that stoic Marine mask, isn’t there?”

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