Page 14 of A Holly Jolly Mix Up (Sweet Christmas Kisses #12)

Jane

“Jane, I’m headed out. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Tandy calls out.

“Bye, Tandy!” I shout back as the chime above the door goes off as she exits.

Since I took a few hours off to play dress up as Mrs. Claus, it means I’ll be here later than I originally planned. I need to finish the remainder of this inventory, and there’s still a lot to go through.

I get up to make a coffee from our little coffee station.

People get thirsty while browsing, right?

Yes. So we have a mini Keurig and mini fridge on a cart by the register (We don’t need kids fueling on caffeine.).

We’ve received so many compliments, especially from moms bringing their kids in.

It also saves me from spending money at Mr. Bradford’s coffee shop every day, but don’t worry, I still get a peppermint hot cocoa every once in a while.

The door chimes again, pulling me from my thoughts.

“We’re closed!” I call out without looking up, assuming it’s a late customer.

“Even for me?”

“Mom, I thought you were having a cozy night in?” I walk over to her and give her a hug.

“I changed my mind. I thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”

My brows lift in surprise as she holds up two bags from The Spot, our favorite diner in Oakridge Hollow.

“Mom, you didn’t have to do that,” I say, though the scent wafting from the bags makes my stomach rumble.

“Oh, hush.” She waves off my protest with a laugh. “You’re working late, and I know you wouldn’t have eaten if I hadn’t brought this.”

She’s right, of course. That cup of coffee I was making would have been dinner. Everything else fades into background noise once I bury myself into work, including hunger.

We settle down on the couch in the corner of the store designated for book clubs and reading get togethers. As I dig into my burger and fries, Mom watches me with an amused smile.

“So,” she begins, a casual lilt to her voice that has my guard up immediately. “How are things with Andrew? ”

My cheeks warm at his name, and Mom’s knowing smile widens.

“Good,” I admit, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Really good, actually.”

Her eyes soften as she reaches out to grasp my hand. “He’s a good man, Jane. And he clearly adores you.”

I bite my lip, looking down at our hands. “You think so?”

“Sweetheart, anyone with eyes can see it.” She chuckles softly, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “He’s smitten.”

The word sends a flutter through my stomach. Smitten. Like a teenager with his first crush.

“This is different than Daniel,” I admit.

“This time it feels...real,” I say softly, looking at my mom.

“With Daniel, we cared about each other, but it was more about knowing what we can get from one another. With Andrew, it’s more about giving than taking.

It’s about appreciating who we are individually and how we light up when we’re together.

It’s wanting to make each other happy and be there for each other. ”

My mom nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “That’s love, Jane.”

“Can you fall in love so quickly? Is that really possible?”

“Your father and I did. We knew very quickly, within a month, and married six months after that. And look at us now, thirty-five years happily married. You and Andrew spent a lot of time together too.”

“Mom, I’m scared.” I fiddle with my fries. “Is it too quick for me? I only called off my wedding a few weeks ago. Is that too soon to fall in love?”

“Honey, you said it yourself, you weren’t in love with Daniel. And while a wedding is a big deal, you weren’t in love with him. You’re not trying to heal a broken heart.”

“You’re right, Mom. It’s just...it feels so fast, and yet it has felt so natural from the very start, like we’ve always been meant to be,” I mumble, my burger suddenly uninteresting. “I just...I worry about messing up, Mom. About jumping in too quickly and making a mistake.”

“Listen to your heart, my dear. Don’t try to rationalize love—it’s not something that follows rules or timelines.

“There’s no right time or perfect formula for it. You’re allowed to be scared, but don’t let fear hold you back from something wonderful.”

“I just never expected this,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. “I never expected him.”

“But isn’t life better for it?” she asks, her warm hand covering mine.

“Yes,” I finally admit, my voice stronger with the realization. “Life is definitely better for it. ”

After we finish our dinner and chat about general things, Mom helps clean up before leaving me to finish off the inventory.

As I dive into my work, his face seems almost etched into my subconscious.

Every book I touch reminds me of him. The crime thrillers, the romance novels, even the cookbooks transport me to us cooking together.

The thrill of his chase, the unexpected romance between us, and the grand adventure of rediscovering my hometown with him.

It’s like he became a part of me without me even realizing it.

I pick up my phone and text him.

Still awake?

Almost immediately, his reply pops up on screen.

Just finishing some paperwork. Everything okay?

I type back, a little unsure.

Yeah, just wanted to say hi.

I’ve been wanting to say hi too, but I didn’t want to distract you at work.

Can’t be distracted when I’m already thinking about you .

That’s probably the boldest thing I’ve ever texted anyone. But it’s more than true. He’s becoming a permanent spot in my thoughts, a preferred distraction from all things mundane.

Oh, is that so?

His response is instant, making me chuckle softly. I imagine him in his small office at the precinct, paperwork strewn everywhere, a faint smirk on his face as he reads my message.

Yep, you’re even distracting me from counting books.

Sounds like you may need some help. Want me to come over and distract you in person?

I can hear his voice in the text, hear the humor laced into those words. I glance around the shop, noting the lack of progress I’ve made on counting my inventory.

No way, Harrington. I might never get this done if you show up.

His response is almost instantaneous.

Challenge accepted .

I laugh out loud at his audacity, shaking my head as I text him back.

Careful, detective don’t you have a crime to solve?

I’d say my case just got a lot more interesting.

My heart flutters at his flirtatious response. It’s these small exchanges that make me realize how much deeper our connection runs, how easily he slips under my skin and makes himself at home.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket and get back to work. But every few seconds, it buzzes with another message from Andrew. Each one is filled with his distinct humor, making even inventory bearable.

As I count and jot down numbers, I find myself grinning like a fool again.

Maybe it is too fast. Maybe it’s reckless and foolish and a little bit insane.

But right now, Andrew Harrington and his ridiculous texts are making me happier than I’ve been in a long time.

So how many books have you counted so far?

I glance around at the towering stacks of books surrounding me. The unfinished piles seem to mock my efforts.

Let’s just say I’ve barely put a dent in it.

In that case, I’ll bring coffee in the morning.

You’re too kind, detective. But I have a feeling you have ulterior motives.

His response is almost immediate.

Busted. Thought I could sneak in some book recommendations.

I snort, shaking my head at the device in my hand.

I’ll make sure to stock up on mystery thrillers.

And some true crime wouldn’t hurt.

I’m going to call it a night and get here a bit early tomorrow. 7 a.m. sound good?

I’ll be the dashing detective supplying the caffeine.

I’ll be the beautiful bookstore owner drinking the caffeine.

Yes, you are.

Text me when you’re home.

By the time I finally call it a night, it’s well past midnight, and my eyes are so heavy I can barely keep them open. But even though my body is exhausted and craving sleep, my mind is wide awake. As I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, all I can think about is Andrew.

His easy laughter, his warm eyes, the way he looks at me like I’m the only girl in the world. It’s overwhelming and terrifying and absolutely wonderful all at once.

Shaking my head, I try to push his image out of my mind and focus on getting some sleep. But no matter how hard I try, his face keeps popping up in my thoughts. And with each passing second, the realization hits me harder and harder.

I’m in love with Andrew Harrington.

And despite all my fears and reservations, I wouldn’t have it any other way.