Page 1 of A Holly Jolly Mix Up (Sweet Christmas Kisses #12)

Andrew

“Who’s there?” I call out sternly as I hear footsteps entering the front door. “You better turn around and get out of here.”

My hand goes to my side, expecting to find my weapon in its holster. I scoff as I remember that I’m supposed to be on vacation and don’t have my normal gear on. Thankfully, I’m a trained law enforcement officer, and I can handle whatever comes my way.

“Excuse me? You’re the one who shouldn’t be here,” a woman’s voice calls back. “I have pepper spray, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Who is this person ordering me around? I’m the one who rented this place for the next four days. And I’m not letting a stranger disable me with pepper spray. A calm, collected talk with proof of my reservation should resolve this soon enough .

I turn the corner of the kitchen to get a look at the woman making these demands. Before I can see her or respond, a flash of fur runs past me. My Scottish terrier is bolting straight toward the intruder and lets out a bark.

“Angus, no!” I lunge for him, trying to snatch his collar. I hear the woman shriek, then the unmistakable hiss. “Ahh!”

The searing pain hits me as pepper spray floods my vision. My skin feels like it caught fire. I inhale, coughing as my throat constricts painfully.

“I told you I would use it,” the woman says as I turn back toward the kitchen.

“I wasn’t attacking you.” I try to blink the chemical out of my eyes, and uncontrollable tears stream down my face.

“How did I know that? Your dog is menacing.” I can’t help but laugh.

“He is more likely to lick you to death than maul you,” I retort sarcastically.

I make it to the sink and fumble for the faucet. I turn it on and quickly place my head under the water. The sweet reprieve of cold water starts to relieve the disorienting pain.

Back in the academy, I got shot with a face full of this stuff in preparation for facing down criminals. Never had I thought that training would come in handy for vacation-busting women with an attitude. And here I thought I was prepared for anything.

“I’ve rented this place for the long weekend. You can’t be here,” she demands.

I don’t respond as I finish up with the cold water to get myself back to a semblance of normal.

Water works to dilute some of the potency of the pepper spray, but it’s going to hurt for a little while.

I dry my face and blink to focus. My vision is still fuzzy, but I see the silhouette of a short brunette standing with her hand on her hip, probably glaring at me.

“I have a reservation for this weekend,” I sigh.

The lady gives me a perplexed look and starts backing out of the room. I’m not sure where she’s headed, but I follow. She bizarrely does this all the way out the front door, onto the porch, and then looks at the house.

Her eyes go wide as she pulls her phone out of her purse and glances at it. I’m sure she’s verifying her reservation and will tell me at any second that she has made a horrible mistake.

“This is definitely the number on the rental agreement,” she mutters as she holds out her phone to me.

I blink. The pepper spray is still making it tough to focus .

“May I?” She hands me her phone, and I pull it closer to my face. I squint until the address comes into view. She isn’t wrong—it’s this address, and the dates coincide with this weekend.

I didn’t make a mistake, did I?

I quickly pull my phone out of my pocket to bring up my reservation. I glance between my phone and hers.

“Looks like there’s been a mix up.” I hand her phone back to her. “Well, we need to call the owner. They’ll need to find you a new place to stay.” I hit the call button on my reservation and put the cell phone to my ear.

I see the woman doing the same.

Nothing, no ringing. I glance at the service bars.

“No service,” she sighs. “The weather was miserable driving in, so I’m not surprised. What are we going to do?” she asks.

Angus barks, demanding the woman’s attention.

I stick out my hand. “I’m Andrew Harrington. And you are?”

“Jane Pearson.” She shakes my hand. “I guess I can try the resort down the road.”

I glance behind her. The snow is coming down in blankets. I can’t send her out in that in good conscience.

“I don’t think either of us should go out in that tonight.

” I blink, bringing Jane a little more into focus.

Her hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head with glasses framing her face.

Her coat is snug up to her chin. “Listen,” I pull my badge out to prove to her my identity, “I’m a detective.

I think it’s best you stay here for the night, and we’ll sort it out in the morning. ”

I extend my badge to hopefully assuage any fears Jane might have about sharing this home overnight. She bites her bottom lip, and I can tell that she is teetering on acceptance of our situation. She glances over her shoulder one last time at the snow and then steps inside to close the door.

“We need to keep trying to reach the owner,” she says finally.

“Understood. There’s two bedrooms. I can show you where you can settle in.”

“Thanks.” She flashes an adorable smile.

“First, a little tour.” I motion for her to follow.

We walk through the entryway to the living room.

The back wall is lined with floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of an open field filled with snow-covered pine trees.

To the left is a wood-burning fireplace with a navy blue L-shaped couch.

To the right, there is the open-concept kitchen with a large island perfect for cooking.

The entire space is decorated with rustic Christmas decorations and a fake tree tucked in the corner between the two rooms .

“The hall off the living room leads to my bedroom, and that one,” I point to the one next to the kitchen, “leads to a small office and what will be your bedroom.”

She walks around the couch, her hand grazing over the plush fabric, and stops in front of the wall of windows. The sun is barely peeking through the bottom of the trees, and the sky is almost dark now.

“It sure is beautiful here.”

“I’m sure it is.” I rapidly blink, trying to see what she does.

She turns to look at me. “I’m sorry for the pepper spray. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“In my line of work, I’ve seen…” My mind wanders to my last case, but I quickly shake my head and dismiss the thought. “It’s not the first time I’ve been pepper sprayed,” I reassure her before walking to the kitchen. “I was about to cook dinner when you arrived. Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” she responds with a sigh, placing a hand on her stomach.

“I’ll get to cooking then.”

“Oh! I have groceries in the car. I completely forgot about them, given the…circumstances.”

I chuckle. “I’ll help you bring them in.”

We head out into the cold, the swirling snowflakes sparkling in the dim porch light.

Jane quickly unlocks her car, her face flushed against the chill of the wind.

She pops the trunk and reveals a stash of brown paper bags filled to the brim.

I grab a couple, feeling how heavy they are, before following her back into the warmth.

Once we’ve brought all her groceries to the kitchen, Jane removes her boots and coat, revealing a green sweater tucked into jeans that hug her curves just right. I, now, notice her expressive green eyes and freckles that dance across her nose.

At thirty-two, I’ve seen many beautiful women, but Jane…she’s a simple beauty. She wears minimal makeup and dainty jewelry. Her outfit isn’t flashy, not like the girls from the city.

Jane offers a small smile to me. That’s when I realize I’ve been staring at her, doing nothing but standing here. Way to make her feel at ease being in a house with a stranger.

“I’m going to put these away and start on dinner while you get settled in.”

She nods then grabs her suitcase by the front door and wheels it down the hall.

As I put her groceries away and begin to pull supplies out of the fridge to make dinner, my mind is still grappling with the unexpected development. Never in a million years would I have imagined sharing my quiet and much-needed retreat with a sassy, pepper spray-wielding stranger .

The burning sensation had started to retreat, but chopping this onion only worsens it. Jane walks from the hallway and stands opposite me at the kitchen island.

“Need some help?”

“You could take over this onion before I go completely blind,” I joke, grateful for her assistance.

“I wouldn’t have taken you to be the dramatic type,” she teases back with a smile. “What are we making?”

I pass over the half-chopped onion, and she takes over with ease. “Chicken stir-fry. Any food allergies?”

“Thankfully, none,” she replies. “What can I do next?”

I point to where I had stored some vegetables, and soon, she’s busy chopping away while I handle the chicken.

While this has been quite an eventful day, I’m hoping the owner will get back to us tomorrow so I can resume my weekend getaway in Silver Valley without any more surprises.