Love, Lies & Mistletoe

by Jennifer Snow

  Her eyes widened. “I threw you a party for a fake birthday?”

  He nodded. “My birthday is actually in February.”

  Heather tore her hands away and scrambled to her feet.

  He stood. “Heather, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. My family’s lives were in danger...”

  “So why tell me now? You’ve lied this long, why not continue?” She folded her arms across her chest and backed away from him.

  He sighed. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should have just continued the lie and told her he didn’t love her so that she would take the job. “Because I trust you and I didn’t want you to give up this opportunity in the city, when I’m hoping to get back there someday myself.” He reached for her, but she shook her head, so he jammed his hands in his pockets instead. “Heather, please...”

  “And then what? What happens when you get back to New York?”

  He knew what she wanted to hear, but he refused to lie to her anymore. “I go back to my job as an undercover cop.” Keeping people at arm’s length and never allowing himself the pain of falling in love...ever again.

  * * *

  THE DRIVE FROM the sledding hill to the B and B was painfully slow and silent. Heather kept her gaze locked on the world outside the passenger window. Her jaw was clenched, and her fists were balled on her lap as she willed herself not to say anything, not trusting her voice or the words that might spill out. But when Jake passed the Brookhollow Inn’s driveway without pulling in, she finally spoke up.

  “That was the B and B.”

  His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, and he glanced at her quickly before turning his attention back to the empty road ahead. “I know. I’m just not ready to drop you off yet. I can’t help but believe this will be the last time I get to be with you.”

  She pressed her lips together. He was darn right about that. If he thought he could drop that kind of bomb on her all of a sudden and that she would just forgive him for lying to her, he was wrong. “Please, drop me off.”

  Instead, he pulled the car to the side of the road.

  No way. Not again.

  She reached for the door handle, but he stopped her. “Wait, please.”

  She pulled her arm away, moving closer to the door and away from him, away from the touch she craved. She’d find no comfort there now. “I would like to call it a night.” A crappy night that she hoped she would be able to forget sooner rather later once she was back in the city...

  “I’ll take you home. I just want to try to explain first.” His expression was pained as he leaned against the steering wheel and ran a hand through his hair.

  She was silent. She didn’t think there was anything he could say that would ease her troubled mind and conflicted heart, but she waited. Hoping.

  He sighed and sat back. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  Well, that was enlightening. “Okay, then...” She reached for the door again.

  “Talks-a-lot, please...”

  Hearing his nickname for her made the tiny crack in her heart break wide apart, and she swallowed a lump in her throat as she got out. He wouldn’t see her cry. “It’s fine, Jake. There’s nothing to explain. You’re not a backstory guy, and you’re not a future kind of guy, either.” With that, she closed the door, and, head forced high, she made her way back to the B and B.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “SLOWLY...SLOWLY,” HEATHER SAID, guiding the parade float out of the barn. She suppressed a yawn as she sipped her coffee and struggled to keep her tired, swollen eyes open. The night before she hadn’t slept at all, lying awake, wondering how she’d completely misinterpreted this thing with Jake. His lies and his reluctance to get close, she could sort of understand and forgive—he’d been trying to protect his family. But his unwillingness to admit that there was something real between them, something she hadn’t felt in a long time...made her chest ache.

  She hadn’t misinterpreted anything, she thought angrily. He’d been playing her. She shook it off as she watched Luke hitch the trailer to the truck the pool hall had rented. She went over to thank him.

  “No problem,” he said, handing her the keys. “Who’s driving this?”

  Not her. She still hadn’t renewed her license as she’d promised. And she was actually relieved to have an excuse to avoid the parade; she wasn’t feeling very festive this morning, and her plan was to go back to bed as soon as the float was on its way. “Candace said she’ll do it. She should be here any minute.”

  “Great. May the best float win,” he said with a smile as he headed toward the B and B float at the other end of the parking lot.

  She raised her coffee cup, lacking all enthusiasm. She no longer gave a rat’s bum about the float competition. If it was up to her, she would already be on her way to New York. But Victoria had insisted that they couldn’t miss the parade, and sans valid driver’s license, Heather was at the mercy of her friend’s schedule. She’d agreed to stay until the following morning, but she hadn’t promised to go to the parade.

  She glanced across the parking lot to where Jake’s gingerbread float sat hitched up to Sheriff Bishop’s truck, relieved that he hadn’t shown up. It made avoiding him easier. And for the next twenty-four hours, that’s exactly what she planned to do.

  He’d been lying to her all along. And though he had a really great reason, she still felt stupid. The worst lie was the one she’d told herself—that he was in love with her.

  She saw Cody climb into the driver’s seat and pull away to get lined up at the edge of Main Street.

  Candace waved as she approached. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” she said, out of breath.

  “No problem. Here are the keys to the truck. Enjoy.” Heather drained the contents of her coffee cup, not feeling any more awake or alert.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to drive along the parade route?” Candace asked, studying her. “I mean, this float was your baby.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure.”

  “You okay?” the girl asked as she got into the cab.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” She wasn’t, but the sooner she could get out of Brookhollow, the faster she could be on her way to fine.

  * * *

  JACOB WASN’T GOING to attend the parade. He’d been more than happy to let Cody drive the float from one end of Main Street to the other. But he hadn’t counted on getting stuck behind it as it crept slowly down the street. Almost everyone in Brookhollow was out on the sidewalks, waving and smiling and enjoying the Christmas sights and sounds. He checked the time. It was after noon; he’d thought the parade would be over by now.

  He cranked up the heavy metal rock station to try to drown out the sound of Melody and Brad, dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Claus, belting out “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” on the float in front of him—Heather’s float.

  He could see Joey’s Diner...so close, yet so far.

  Walking might be faster, he decided, parking and getting out. He’d already taken his insulin, so if he didn’t eat soon, he’d be low.

  The festivities surrounding him as he walked did nothing to help his mood. He’d been miserable since dropping Heather off the night before, and he’d been too much of a coward to show up at the barn that morning. As much as he regretted it, he hadn’t been lying when he’d said that once all of this was over, he was returning to whatever life was waiting for him in New York, and that a relationship didn’t really fit into that world.

  But he’d known that going in. So why did the thought feel like a punch to the gut now?

  As he passed through the crowd, he glanced at his float. Sheriff Bishop’s nephews were throwing candy canes to the spectators. At least they were having a good time, he thought, remembering how much Kyle enjoyed the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The poor kid had missed out on so m
any of their holiday traditions this year, and it was all his fault.

  Noticing a man standing across the street, Jacob froze.

  Lorenzo?

  The familiar, knee-length wool coat, black leather gloves and brimmed hat made Jacob’s pulse race. He peered through the gap between the floats. The man was turned slightly, but he was alone and looked out of place. He couldn’t be sure. But his gut was telling him all he needed to know.

  A float stopped in front of him, blocking his view, and he muttered under his breath. Jacob pushed his way to the curb, trying to see around it. Why wasn’t it moving?

  Without another thought, he climbed up onto the float and stumbled over the wires hooked up to the speakers. The music stopped, and several large candy canes fell over. He ignored the confused, annoyed look from Danielle O’Connor, the owner of Dog Eared Books, as he made his way across her float, knocking over several other decorations. His foot stuck to the white foam bedding that was supposed to be snow, and the sound of crunching glass made him wince as he crushed a bulb and all the lights went out.

  “Sheriff Matthews, you’re destroying our float,” Danielle said.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, jumping onto the street on the other side and scanning for Lorenzo. Where had he gone?

  He saw him a block away...and a little farther down the street, he saw Heather walking toward the B and B. His heart hammered in his chest. How did they know where he was? How did they know about Heather? He started to run, pushing past the families on the sidewalk, ignoring their protests as he hurried to catch up to the guy before he could reach Heather.

  The guy was six feet tall, his dress pants and expensive shoes out of place on the slushy sidewalk. Definitely Lorenzo. Jacob saw him reach into his coat and picked up speed, as the man touched Heather’s shoulder.

  She turned, and her surprised expression gave Jacob the energy to sprint the rest of the way, drawing his gun as he ran. He leaped and tackled Lorenzo to the ground, flipping him over and holding him at gunpoint.

  Heather gasped. “Jake? What are you doing?”

  His mouth dropped open as he studied the man he’d pinned to the ground. It wasn’t Lorenzo. In the guy’s hand was an envelope, not a gun.

  “Jake, get up!” Heather said, grabbing his arm.

  He shook his head as the other man continued to stare up at him in shock and fear. Quickly, he got to his feet and extended a hand to the fellow, but he didn’t take it as he stood.

  “Sorry,” Jacob said.

  “Put the gun away!” Heather told him.

  He holstered it and once again apologized. “I’m sorry. I thought you were...someone else.”

  Heather released an exasperated sigh. “Jake, this is Mr. Ericksen—the owner of the pool hall.”

  Her annoyed tone said everything. She thought he was insane.

  Maybe he was. Maybe the stress of all of this was finally getting to him. But the guy had looked... His monitor beeped. Damn, and now he was low.

  “Mr. Ericksen, this is Sheriff Matthews,” Heather told the other man as he stood and wiped snow from his coat. “He’s a little overprotective,” she said with a forced laugh through clenched teeth.

  Jacob extended his hand again, but the man ignored it. Instead, he gave Heather the envelope. “Here’s your final paycheck... I wanted to give it to you myself and thank you for everything,” he said tightly, an eye still on Jacob, seeming ready to defend against another attack.

  Jacob couldn’t possibly feel like more of a jerk. He stood back as the two of them talked for another minute, and then the man walked away quickly.

  “Heather, I’m—”

  “Crazy? Overzealous?” she said, arms folded across her chest.

  He couldn’t help but notice that she looked as tired and confused as he felt. “Yes. And yes. I thought...”

  “What? That he was one of the bad guys? Here in Brookhollow?” she scoffed, looking past him toward the crowd that was no longer watching the parade but staring at them. “You just ruined the parade for all of those people. Poor kids are totally freaked-out,” she said, pointing to two kids hugging their mother’s legs, hiding from him.

  He sighed. “I made a mistake.” He swallowed hard. “I made a lot of mistakes...” His monitor beeped again.

  “You’re low?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “You should probably go take care of that before it leads to even more clouded judgment,” she said, turning on her heel.

  He wanted to run after her, but she was right. He did have to take care of it. He had to take care of a lot of things before he could even think about them being together.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I KNOW YOU and I have had our moments over the years—” Luke began as he carried two of Heather’s suitcases to his truck. Victoria was sitting eagerly behind the wheel, waiting to drive her to New York. “—but I just want to say thank you for all your help around here, in the last few months especially.”

  “It was nothing, Luke.” She faced the man who looked terrified as he gazed at his wife, who was singing off-key to the holiday music on the radio. “Don’t worry,” Heather said, touching his shoulder. “I’ll be sure to send her back.”

  He laughed, but it was tense. “I know I’m being stupid, I’m just not sure I can compete with New York.”

  Heather hugged the man for the first time ever, the awkwardness of the action overshadowed by her need to reassure him that Victoria had chosen love once before, and she always would...just as Heather would have, given the opportunity. She gulped as she pulled away. “New York is no competition for you, Luke. She’ll be home tomorrow, I promise.”

  “All right, travel safe...good luck with the new job. And if you ever need anything or a place to crash...”

  She shook her head sadly. “I won’t be back. So let your beautiful girls visit me in the city once in a while, okay?”

  He nodded. “This town left a mark, huh?”

  Not Brookhollow. Jake Matthews—Jacob Marx—had left a mark. A scar so deep in such a short period of time. “I’ll be fine. I’m like a cat—always land on my feet.”

  “Don’t you mean six-inch stilettos?” he asked, touching her arm. “Good luck, Heather.”

  “Thanks, Luke.”

  As she climbed into the truck, Luke tapped on the driver’s-side window. Victoria rolled it down, and he drew her face toward him for a long kiss.

  Seriously? Heather had just gotten her heart broken two nights ago. Have some compassion for the unlucky in love, she thought. Leaning forward, she wailed on the horn, causing both of them to jump. “We need to get going,” she said.

  “Right. Sorry. Bye, Luke. Take care of my baby...”

  “I’ll be fine.” He sounded anything but.

  Victoria laughed. “I was talking about Harper,” she said as she rolled up the window.

  Luke waved to them as they pulled out of the drive. “He’s totally freaked-out,” Heather said, envying her friend’s relationship, not for the first time.

  “He’ll survive. I’m coming back...maybe,” Victoria said, teasing. Then she added, “What about you? Do you think you’ll be back to visit at least?”

  “I don’t know, Vic. I think it’s better if you visit me.”

  “Are you sure about this—leaving?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely.” The fact was, what she felt didn’t matter. Jake had made it clear that eventually he would be returning to the city himself...and to his job. They had no future together. There was no point sticking around only to be disappointed and heartbroken in the end anyway.

  * * *

  JACOB TOSSED A football up into the air and caught it. He threw it up again and caught it...the same thing he’d been doing for the past hour and a half. Putting the football on his de
sk, he stood and stretched. He could work out again or do yet another circuit of town in the squad car. It didn’t matter. Nothing he did would make the time that had seemed to come to a complete standstill since Heather left go by faster. And nothing he did could stop his mind from wandering to her.

  He was dying to call her to find out how she was, how she was adjusting to life back in the city, whether or not she’d found an apartment yet...what she had for breakfast—anything. He didn’t care. He just wanted to hear her nonstop voice.

  He could block his number and call her. Just to hear her say hello or no doubt ream out the prank caller, he thought with a smile, the temptation to do it growing even stronger.

  He couldn’t. There was no way he would be able to remain silent on the other end. Not when there was so much he wanted to say.

  The front door opened, and Cody entered the station.

  “You did this, didn’t you?” Cody demanded angrily, as he waved a piece of paper inches from Jacob’s nose.

  “Hey, take it down a notch, man. What is this?” he asked, taking the paper.

  “They are refusing my request for an interview and physical.”

  Jacob quickly scanned the letter from the Boston Police Department. “Why?” All the letter said was that his application had been denied.

  “You tell me,” Cody said, leaning across the desk.

  “Okay, you need to back it up a little,” Jacob said, advancing toward him. The kid had picked the wrong day to accuse him of something.

  Cody straightened and took a deep breath. “Go ahead and deny that you didn’t fill out those forms I left here for Sheriff Bishop.”

  The forms? Oh. The recommendation letter. The kid thought he’d had something to do with this? True, he didn’t want Cody to take the job in Boston, but he hadn’t seen those papers since the day he’d left them on Sheriff Bishop’s desk.

  “You can’t deny it, can you?” Cody said when he hesitated. “I knew it. You kept saying that I should wait, hold out for a position here. Why, Jake? Did you want the job in Boston?” His eyes flared with anger.