Page 5 of A Holly Jolly Mix Up (Sweet Christmas Kisses #12)
Andrew
“It is freezing out there,” I call out as I stomp my boots on the front porch and step into the house.
Jane hurries towards me. “How are the roads out there?”
“Well, I’m grateful that I had snowshoes to make the hike. There was one plowed lane in both directions and a line of impatient drivers for miles. But our cars are still buried,” I report.
“Guess we’re hanging out here today,” Jane says, which I agree with completely. “I wouldn’t risk it with the current conditions.”
“I agree.”
“I don’t know about you,” she spins around, walking toward the kitchen, “but my plan for the afternoon is s’mores.”
“That sounds great. Have you played Rummy before?” I ask .
“I have,” Jane says as she places graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate on a platter.
“Great, I think I have a fighting chance to redeem my confidence and gaming abilities from total obliteration at your hands.” I rummage through the entertainment center searching for the decks of cards I saw in here.
“I like your gusto,” she laughs. “Oh! I did make grilled cheese and tomato soup,” she offers. “I figured you might be hungry after the hike.”
“Thanks.” I turn to find her holding a plate and bowl for me.
“You eat, and I’ll set up a little picnic and game by the fireplace.” She hands me the plate and then spins on her heels.
I sit on the couch watching Jane organize it all. She takes out a blanket, arranges all the s’mores items on the coffee table, and then even has the cards shuffled and sits at the ready.
Her hair is tucked up in a messy bun, but a few wisps insist on floating loose around her face.
She’s makeup free, exposing the tiny freckles across her nose more than usual.
Something about those freckles causes me to turn to mush; they make her so uniquely Jane.
I can’t imagine never seeing this amazing, sweet woman before me ever again—that just doesn’t feel right on any level .
“You going to get a move on?” She turns, and that whiplash sharp tongue gets a smile crossing my lips in no time.
I gobble down the last few bites of the hearty meal. Sitting down, I shuffle the deck. This is my chance to redeem myself, and I’m not going down without a fight.
“Are you ready to lose?” she teases, leaning forward to grab a graham cracker.
“Oh, I don’t lose,” I reply, placing the cards down. “I let others win out of the goodness of my heart.”
She scoffs, “Is that what happened during Scrabble?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Hey now, it was a draw, and no winners were confirmed.”
“Only because this big guy,” she reaches out to rub on Angus, who is resting his head on her lap again, “saved you from certain defeat.”
“A man’s best friend always has his back,” I murmur as I deal the cards. “Shall we?” I ask.
“You’re on.” She gives me a serious game face.
I reach over and stab a marshmallow onto a skewer, holding it over the fire. “Do you like your marshmallows burnt on the outside or lightly toasted?”
“You’re only postponing the inevitable, detective.”
“Pregame snack. ”
She mimics my move with one of her own. “All right. I like mine somewhere right in the middle. Heavily toasted but not burnt. Just enough that you can remove the crunchy layer to eat.”
“I’m going all burnt, baby, just like my steaks,” I tease.
“Well-done steak?” she questions. “That is a travesty.”
“Let me guess, you like yours still mooing?”
“Pretty close. I want all those amazing, flavorful juices flowing. Though, it’s been a while since I had a steak worth remembering. Even great chefs now cover it in gravy or a sauce—not my thing.”
“You don’t like gravy?” I ask, shocked.
“No. If you need to cover a great piece of meat in all that stuff, you have to be trying to hide something,” she grumbles with a horrified look on her face.
“You’re very passionate about this.” I pull the marshmallow from the fire, put it on a graham cracker and chocolate, and pop it into my mouth. I hum as the warm, fluffy sweetness melts onto my tongue. “Seriously, is there anything better than s’mores on a cold night?”
I watch her delicately remove hers from the skewer and bite down on it. Her eyes close as she savors the sweet treat. “You are so right.”
“Wow, I didn’t think I would ever hear those words from you,” I tease.
“Call it my Christmas gift to you.”
“Well, aren’t you generous?”
She nudges me, her eyes sparkling. “Don’t push it, Harrington, or I might reconsider.”
“Noted,” I mutter. “Okay, back to this game.” I level Jane with a direct gaze. “I’m ready to obliterate you and have the perfect strategy to get a win in my column.”
“Oh, I’m terrified,” she says with mock shivering as she picks up her cards. “But I’m still going to beat you.”
“Let’s up the stakes…loser has to cook dinner tonight?”
Jane’s eyes light up with challenge. “Deal.”
The game is intense. We both have our strategies, and there’s no shortage of competitive banter as we play our hands. Her quick wit matches mine, punch for punch, and I find myself grinning despite the cutthroat game.
A burst of movement catches my attention, and I turn to see Angus darting off with a bag of marshmallows in his mouth. I quickly pivot and lunge for the treats, but Angus expertly evades my grasp. Jane launches over me to rescue the bag from the dog slobber.
“Victorious,” she declares triumphantly, waving the bag above her head.
Angus growls playfully at Jane as if reprimanding her for attempting to steal his prize .
“I suppose we’re not the only ones with a love for marshmallows,” she remarks, turning to me. “Please tell me you don’t give these to your dog,” she implores, holding up the bag.
I shrug sheepishly. “One won’t hurt, right.”
“It could,” she scolds me. “You really should read some books on how to properly care for a dog.”
“Does he look like he is unhealthy or unhappy?” I ask, squeezing Angus close to my side as I make a sad face in Jane’s direction.
“You both are distracting me from winning this all important game,” she tells me with a huff as she flounces back to a sitting position opposite me on the blanket. “No more marshmallows for either of you.”
“ You are no fun.” I pout for dramatic effect.
“Oh, I’m a lot of fun, up until you feed marshmallows to puppies. I have to draw the line somewhere.”
“See, Angus, you should be nicer to me. She’s a tyrant,” I tell my pup with a kiss to his head, as Jane just shakes her head good-naturedly. “Now, let’s win this game so we can control the marshmallows once again.”
“Bring it,” Jane replies as she lays down a set of four queens.
“Are you kidding?”
She just shrugs with a teasing laugh .
“Angus, grab her cards,” I whisper to his ear.
Angus barks, agreeing of course. Jane holds her cards close to her chest as laughter fills the space.
“Looks like you, Mr. Detective, are making me dinner.” She lays down the last of her cards, a small run, with a triumphant grin.
I throw my hands up in defeat. Jane’s victorious smile is radiant, lighting up her face. Her green eyes are sparkling, and I can’t imagine anything more beautiful.
“You cheated,” I mutter playfully, but I reach out to shake her hand. A sportsman-like gesture that’s meant to be casual but sends a current through me when our hands touch.
“Are you just a sore loser or do you always accuse people of cheating when things don’t go your way?” Jane teases.
“Only when I’m not doing the cheating,” I reply, my heart beating faster than normal.
“Admit it, Andrew,” she begins, her grin wicked and proud. “You underestimated me…again.”
“Fine,” I concede. “I did. But you know what they say about underdogs.” I lift up Angus and waggle my brows.
“That wasn’t very punny.”
Her cute, freckled nose scrunches as she laughs at my lame joke.
I’m having more fun this unexpected weekend than I have in a long time.
It’s almost surreal how naturally we fall into each other’s rhythm, teasing, and challenging each other every step of the way.
She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and I find myself hoping that this game night isn’t our last.
Her laughter dies down, an amused glimmer still present in her gaze. “It’s time to impress me with your culinary skills.”
“Any requests?” I ask only half-jokingly.
She bites her lower lip thoughtfully—a cute gesture that I find incredibly attractive. “Surprise me.”