Page 3 of A Holly Jolly Mix Up (Sweet Christmas Kisses #12)

Andrew

“I found a challenge for us,” I call out as I dig through the television stand. “Scrabble?”

I hold out the box and notice Jane shaking her head at me. I know that throwing down a gauntlet of words to a journalist might seem like a death wish, but I’m up to the challenge.

“You think you can hold up against me? I’m a dictionary.” She taps her index finger against her skull.

“I think she doth believe herself invincible. I might be a lowly man in blue, but I have a college edu-ma-cation backing me up.” I wink at her, which elicits a tinkling laugh that causes my stomach to do flips.

“You know I don’t like to make grown men cry, but I will if the occasion calls for it.” Jane smirks.

“Bring it on, Pearson,” I challenge her as I open the box, setting up the game between us on the coffee table .

We begin picking our tiles, and I look at the mismatched letters on my tray. I groan, silently of course. So far, just consonants, and I can’t figure out a single word. Finally, I get a vowel, but still, nothing comes to mind that might prove my spelling prowess.

My brain goes to mush, and I feel a tinge of panic set in. Jane is across from me, with a satisfied look on her face as she glances in my direction. Sort of like a cat who gets caught with a mouse tail hanging out of its mouth.

“You know we could invoke the ‘what happens in the snowbound cabin with a stranger stays there’ rule,” she offers. “I mean, it could save your ego if we agree to never talk about this after your terrible loss.”

“I haven’t lost yet. We’re just getting started!” I try to sound confident, but a nervous chuckle escapes me. I’m a dead man here, and she knows it.

“I’ll give you a handicap and go first. Give you something to play off of,” she adds.

I roll my eyes and look back at my tray. V, G, R, A, S, Q, and an X.

I stare at the tiles, praying some word might formulate, anything at this point. I regret choosing this game and wish I could phone a friend.

She puts down her tiles, and I sigh. Zephyr .

“You know, this game is rigged. You said it yourself—you’re a dictionary.”

She grins. “You’re just saying that because you’re losing.”

“I’m saying that because it’s true.”

“Hey, you wanted to play.” She raises an eyebrow, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You could’ve chosen any other game, but noooo, you had to try and beat me at Scrabble.”

“I might have been slightly cocky.”

“Slightly?” she questions with sarcasm heavy on the word. “Come on, your turn, Andrew. Just one spectacular word. You can do it.”

I roll my eyes and look down at my tiles and then at the board. My eyes dash back and forth, and I release a sigh. I’m going to have to skip. Then I see it, a letter I could use. I grab my tiles and use the second letter of her word.

“Graves.” I smile smugly.

Jane gives me a knowing look. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see you floundering here. Not bad there, detective. That’s a good one for the points.”

“Generous of you to notice.” I count out the total.

“I just don’t want this to be overly lopsided,” she scoffs as she tosses down her next word: elusive, across a double-word score .

“Of course,” I mutter. “You just happened to have that in your pocket.”

She shrugs. “What can I say?”

She’s a wordsmith. I stare at her flushed, beautiful face.

The spark in her eyes as she gives me a hard time.

It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact we have known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and already, I do not want our time to end.

The storm can keep storming, and I’ll just stay here and enjoy this woman’s company.

“You gonna take all day?” she teases, her fingers tapping lightly against her mug. It’s barely 10 a.m., and she’s on her second cup of coffee.

“You know gloating isn’t a good look on anybody.”

“Isn’t confidence supposed to make a woman more attractive?” she says sarcastically.

“Confidence can be attractive…sometimes,” I mutter.

I shift the tiles around a bit, trying to come up with something—anything—that would save me from this humiliating defeat. But nothing is coming to mind.

“No ring, no mention of a girlfriend. Are you in a relationship, detective?”

I stare at her, trying to keep up with the quick change in direction.

Personal relationships would be something else, along with Scrabble, that I am a complete failure at.

Still, it’s interesting to me that Jane is curious, and that alone keeps me feeling happiness that has zero to do with the game at hand. Or is she just trying to distract me?

“You’re not helping me go any faster.” I stare at my tiles like a word will pop out of sheer will.

A laugh bubbles out of her. “I’m not trying to distract you. I’m genuinely curious. I am a journalist, after all.”

I chuckle. “My last girlfriend was in high school. We dated for three years, but when we graduated, her dreams took her abroad for some mission work, and that’s where she found her soulmate.”

“And nobody since then?” she asks as I think through a list of excuses for my bachelor state.

“No,” I reply with a head shake. “First, the academy. Then, my mom was sick for a few years, and I cared for her.” Jane’s face fills with sympathy.

“I would go on a date from time to time, but they were with all the wrong people. It’s hard just going out and hoping you’ll mesh well with this stranger.

So, I put dating on the back burner and focused on my career.

Maybe I’ll find Mrs. Right at some point. ”

“Yeah, I get that,” she says as if deeply considering my words.

“So, Ms. Journalist. Has your romantic life been more interesting than mine? ”

Her eyes widen slightly before she breaks eye contact with me. I turn around to see what has captured her attention.

“Looks like it’s finally easing up a little,” Jane says, her voice softer, more contemplative.

I nod as I stand and walk to the windows. I turn to see a sweet smile on her face as she stands there next to me.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She stares out the window, taking in the winter scene outside.

“Yes, it is.”

There is something peaceful about it—the way the snow silences everything, making the world feel more intimate. It’s just me and Jane for a moment. Somehow, it feels exactly right to me in a way I can’t put into words.

“Even though this wasn’t the weekend I had planned, I’m actually pretty okay with the twist of circumstances.”

“Me, too,” she says, turning her gaze to me.

There is an abrupt thud behind us as we pivot in unison. Angus is staring at us as he stands on the coffee table.

“Angus! No!” I shout. I dash toward him, trying to grab the board, but I’m too late.

In one swift, ungraceful motion, his paw hits the edge of the Scrabble board, sending tiles flying into the air.

The game is over—literally and figuratively.

Letters scatter across the floor in a chaotic mess.

He looks up with guilt on his sweet face as I gaze at the pile of tiles and the board now on the floor.

Jane bursts out laughing. “Oh my, Angus, you are a little menace!”

I stare at the destroyed board, half in disbelief, half in relief. “Well, I guess that means I don’t have to finish losing.”

“Consider yourself saved by the dog.” She wipes tears of laughter from her eyes. “That’s one way to end a game.”

I lean down to ruffle Angus’s fur. “Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”

Jane shakes her head, still smiling as she starts gathering up the tiles. “You’re lucky you’ve got him. Otherwise, I’d have beaten you so badly you’d never want to play Scrabble again.”

“Trust me,” I say, grinning as I bend to pick up the board, “I wasn’t planning on losing that bad, but still, my ego is grateful to my buddy for having my back.”

She looks up at me, still laughing, her eyes soft.

“Your ego? You could barely form a six-letter word.”

“I was just warming up,” I retort, attempting to defend my shattering pride.

“Uh huh, I think you owe Angus an extra treat tonight,” she says with that smirk of hers, the one that’s become familiar in the short time I’ve known her. It’s like she already knows every button to push to keep me on edge. And the strangest part is that I kind of like it.