Page 2 of A Holly Jolly Mix Up (Sweet Christmas Kisses #12)

Jane

Being double-booked with a stranger isn’t even the weirdest thing to happen to me this week.

This is supposed to be my honeymoon with Daniel, albeit a short one due to his work schedule.

I’m supposed to be Mrs. Pearson right now.

But instead, I’m the pepper-spraying crazy lady who ran away from her wedding and is currently in this snow-covered rental with a hot detective.

Yes, I noticed. How could I not?

Andrew is very fit with muscles testing the fiber strength of the T-shirt he’s currently wearing. I would imagine a host of abs are hiding beneath it. He’s tall, and his warm brown eyes and ridiculously long lashes draw your gaze to him, and that killer smile finishes you off.

“So, you cook?” He flips the chicken in the pan.

“Normally, I’m too busy chasing the next story, but I love it when I can.” I look up to meet his eyes when I notice him oddly examining my face .

“You’re a journalist?”

“I am. I’m betting you love my kind in your line of work,” I offer back, with a challenging arch of my brow.

“Journalists are…both friend and foe to those of us in blue. Several times, their writings have helped bring in new leads to an investigation, and other times, it’s thrown up roadblocks.

I’m sure, like all careers, some are great at what they do but some…

need an attitude adjustment,” he says carefully.

“That was super diplomatic.” I roll my eyes.

“I am snowbound in a house with you, for who knows how long, and have already experienced how you will defend yourself should I say anything untoward. I’m going the kind and friendly route solely out of self-preservation,” he teases.

“Good idea,” I laugh.

He grins at my response, his dimples making a mischievous appearance. “So, why journalism?” he asks, leaning against the counter with his arms folded across his broad chest.

I shrug, my eyes glinting in thought as I stare into the cozy glow of the fire. “I guess I’ve always had a knack for asking questions, and I enjoy storytelling. And why not use that to, hopefully, make a difference.”

“I understand that—making a difference. ”

“Is that why you’re a detective? Wanting to make the world a better place?”

“I want to help and serve the community. While I’m only one man, everyone on the force, as a team, makes a difference.”

“Teamwork makes the dream work.” I chuckle and so does he.

“Something like that.”

A comfortable silence envelops us. For a moment, I forget about Daniel, about the wedding mess I left behind.

The next hour goes by quickly, and the day comes to an end.

We both retire to our rooms for the night.

While Andrew seems like a sweet-guy-next-door man, he could also be the turn-to-the-dark-side kinda cop.

That’s why I didn’t give him my real last name.

So, I lock my door and wiggle the desk chair underneath the handle.

Better safe than sorry.

The bedroom is beautiful. The décor matches the rest of the house with a rustic but elegant feel: a queen bed centered on the wall with Christmas sheets and pillows, pretty white curtains, and a small desk in the corner.

There’s a bathroom connected, which also looks freshly renovated, and while it’s all white, the colored towels, rug, and accents make it charming.

It has a large soaking tub, which I fully intend to take advantage of.

A relaxing candle-lit bath and a good night’s sleep sounds like the perfect end to this eventful day.

The crackling sounds from the fireplace, a sweet pup cuddling into my side, and a mystery I’ve been dying to read are the perfect recipe for a cozy morning.

As a journalist, my life is controlled chaos.

Most people don’t understand that moments of silence and nothing worth reporting happening are rarities in my line of work.

Normally, I’d be checking the latest news and assignments that might have been sent to me throughout the night. This morning, with no cell service, nowhere to be, and snow piled high outside the window—I’m choosing to enjoy this quiet time.

“Morning,” a voice calls out.

I look up into Andrew’s swollen, red, just waking eyes. Ouch. That pepper spray really does pack a punch. I’m surprised the man hadn’t put me in cuffs for assaulting a police officer, but then again, it was a justifiable mistake based on the circumstances.

“Morning,” I reply with the brightest of smiles as my hand rubs Angus’s head .

“I see you’ve made amends with the menacing dog.” He cocks his head at Angus.

“I might just be a friendly place to rest his head,” I retort, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

Angus digs his head in closer for more snuggles. He’s still a puppy who craves every ounce of attention. I look back up to find Andrew squinting his eyes at Angus that, I’m sure, is intended to be intimidating but instead causes fluttering in my stomach.

I know, I just called off my wedding, and the first guy I run into I’m already getting butterflies.

But let me tell you, Daniel never made me feel this way.

Daniel Pearson was nice and treated me well, but we didn’t love each other.

Not in the way we should have. Isn’t love supposed to sweep you off your feet?

Isn’t love supposed to be unconditional?

Daniel and I had more of an agreement and understanding than a love.

And we both realized it the night of our wedding rehearsal.

“Did you get a look outside yet?” he asks with a groggy voice.

“I did, earlier, and all I saw was white. I figured you would know better how to navigate the snow when you got up. So, I grabbed the book I brought with me and got comfy then Angus joined me. ”

“Well, let’s take a look.” He heads straight to the front door.

I pivot on the sofa in time for him to open the door. I gasp at the half-wall of white. There is an impressive snow drift blocking the door. You can see past it to the blizzard conditions still in effect beyond it. Andrew backs up and closes the door as he spins in my direction.

“Well, looks like this storm isn’t stopping anytime soon. We might be stuck together here all weekend.”

“Good thing we both brought food.” I chuckle nervously.

My journalist’s brain is always searching for the seedy side of a person or situation. I was initially hesitant to stay here with Andrew, but he doesn’t seem like a threat or weird. At least not beyond the normal amount, because everyone has their quirks.

“Guess we’ll really get to know each other then.”

“Oh! I have just the way to do that,” I tell him.

Andrew gives me a curious look that tells me he is worried about what might be coming next. I find it sort of endearing…and worrisome at the same time. I’m not sure how little ole me has turned this detective so suspicious. He’s probably just as cautious about me being he re as I am with him.

“I just figured that since we are stuck together in this cabin for the next couple of days, we might try to find out some things about each other.” I walk to my room to grab some cards.

“I got these at a meet and greet I did recently. Seems odd to need cards to ask questions about people, but there are actually very interesting questions.”

“Okay, I’m game,” he says with a lopsided grin.

“Perfect. Breakfast first.”

It feels easy between us as we find a flow to cooking our second meal together. We set the table, and I shuffle the “Get to Know You” cards, glancing up at Andrew as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Alright,” I say, pulling a card from the top of the deck. “You ready to tell me your deepest darkest secrets?”

He raises an eyebrow, that crooked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I think I can handle it. Hit me—I’m an open book.”

I read the card aloud. “What’s the oddest thing you’ve ever eaten?”

He leans back in his chair, arms crossed with a dimple flashing on his right cheek. “Oh, easy. Once, on a stakeout, I ate cold anchovy pizza with peanut butter.”

I wrinkle my nose, laughing. “That sounds absolutely disgusting. Was it a dare or just desperation? ”

“Desperation, pure and simple,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “I was starving.”

“Okay, I get pizza. Although, anchovies? Ew. But where did the peanut butter come from?”

“My partner had it in his car, and we thought, ‘why not?’”

“Maybe I should be the one to cook for the rest of the weekend.”

He chuckles. “What about you? I bet you’ve got something worse.”

I think for a second, tapping the card against the table. “Hmmm, does eating an entire sleeve of Oreos dipped in salsa count?”

Andrew’s face contorts in disgust. “Oh, come on, how do you justify that after the first cookie?”

I burst out laughing. “In my defense, I was on deadline and slightly out of my mind. You eat whatever’s in arm’s reach, no matter how questionable.”

He’s still shaking his head, but his smile tells me he’s not entirely horrified. “You writers, man. That’s a whole other level.”

I flip another card and grin. “Okay, next: If you had to choose another career, what would it be?”

Andrew doesn’t even pause. “Easy. I’d open a food truck. I’d call it—wait for it— ‘ Bites on the Beat.’ All the best food options I start drooling over when I’m super hungry. Mac-and-cheese bites, chili-mac hot dogs, the works.”

I snort into my coffee. “I would 100% eat there. But only if the food is as good as it sounds.”

“Deal. What about you, Ms. Writer? If you weren’t writing, what would you be doing?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “Professional dog whisperer.”

He chuckles. “Of course you would.”

“Hey, Angus loves me.” I flip another card, already smiling. “Okay, last one. What’s your biggest fear?”

His smile fades a little, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “I think my biggest fear is…you beating me at this game.”

I raise an eyebrow, grinning. “Nice try. But you’re not getting out of it that easily.”

“Fine, dog whisperer,” he says, leaning in closer. “Biggest fear? Being terrible at crossword puzzles.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Andrew, you’re a liar.”

“Okay, fine,” he says, giving in. “I guess my biggest fear would be losing someone important to me. You know, like a case I can’t solve in time to help them.”

The air shifts for a second, the weight of his words hanging between us. But before I can respond, he leans forward, that easy grin returning. “Also, spiders. Definitely, spiders.”

I laugh, the tension lifting instantly. “Good to know. I guess I won’t mention the one I saw in the living room this morning. It was massive and deadly looking.” I take a sip of my warm coffee.

“Maybe you should use your pepper spray on it.”

I choke on my coffee. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. The injury is still fresh.” He winks at me as he grabs my plate and walks to the kitchen.

And just like that, I feel my heart do that annoying little flutter again. This weekend is looking nothing like I initially expected, but at this moment, everything feels right.