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Kiss Me Under the Mistletoe: A Small Town Holiday Novella Collection

Page 8

by Christine Kingsley

When she’d left Louisiana two days ago, she hadn’t had any destination in mind beyond getting away. She’d packed up her car and driven off, no course set, no idea of where she’d end up. She’d just gone north. Driving through Arkansas and then Missouri, she’d arbitrarily decided to stop in Kansas City when she’d gotten a flat…and then the blizzard hit.

  What rotten luck, she thought with a sigh. Could she ever do anything without screwing it up? The answer was definitely no, she couldn’t. Holly had dropped out of college her junior year, never finishing her degree, to run off with her then-boyfriend. She’d been twenty-one, in love, and stupid.

  Now she was twenty-five, sick of love, and only a little bit wiser.

  “Found it.” Matt came into the living room, the beam of the flashlight bouncing off of the walls. The dogs barked; he shushed them and told them to go lie down on their giant dog beds in the corner.

  Holly couldn’t help smiling now. When she’d been stuck in that ditch, the snow falling all around her, she hadn’t expected that anyone would be driving by, let alone a man like Officer Matthew Haldon. Tall, with dark hair, he wasn’t what she’d classify as handsome, per se, but his face was kind, and he’d taken her into his home without protest. She hadn’t known a lot of people who would be that kind to a stranger.

  A small voice had whispered that she was crazy to go to a strange man’s house, but he was a police officer, right? And looking at him, she felt like she could trust him.

  She almost snorted at that thought. Didn't you think the same thing about Sam?

  But she and Sam were over. Dunzo. She’d never see him again, and for that, she was infinitely thankful.

  Matt switched on a radio, which broadcasted the obvious news that there were power outages all over the state, and crews were working to get the power back on. He swore underneath his breath.

  “It’s below zero out there, and no electricity.” He rubbed the back of his neck before looking over at Holly. “It’s going to be a cold night, I’m afraid.”

  “Then I’m glad I took a hot shower before the power went out,” she replied.

  In all honesty, she’d experienced worse. Last year, when Sam had decided that they were going to save money and only spend ten dollars a week on food? She’d never been so hungry in her life. But Sam was like that: full of mad schemes, some that were brilliant, while the rest were completely insane. Holly had admired him for those schemes in the beginning. By the end of their relationship, she’d hated him for everything he’d put her through.

  She shook off the memories. Right now, she was sitting next to a man who was so completely different from her ex that it was almost difficult to reconcile the two in her mind. Matt was…dependable. Staid. Solid. He probably had never schemed in his life.

  Her lips turned up at the thought.

  After getting the fire started, Matt sat back down next to her. He drew a blanket down from the couch and placed it on her shoulders. “You look cold,” he said gruffly.

  She clutched the blanket closer, staring up at him. He seemed to be looking at her mouth, she realized with a start. Turning away, he returned his gaze to the fire.

  “So, tell me about yourself. You never answered my question,” Holly said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You are persistent, you know that?”

  “It’s one of my best traits.” She moved a little closer to him and patted his knee; that touch, though, sent electricity zinging through her hand and up her arm. Her body heating, she snatched her hand back and hid it underneath the blanket, like it had been branded.

  No more touching Matthew Haldon, she told herself.

  “Where did you go to school? What was your major? Do you prefer pies or cakes?” Holly chattered, throwing out random questions, trying to find her equilibrium. She couldn’t look into his eyes right now. If she did, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t find her way back.

  Finally, he sighed. “You really want to know about me?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, let’s see…” He rubbed the back of his neck, like he was embarrassed. “Like I said, I grew up in Illinois.”

  “Where in Illinois?”

  “Springfield.”

  She nodded again. “What were you like as a kid? Shy? Outgoing? Bookish? Athletic?”

  He barked out a laugh. “None of those things. I was just a kid. I played basketball briefly. I had okay grades, but nothing spectacular. That was my sister—she was the valedictorian. I had friends, I really liked PE…” He shrugged. “Look, I told you, I’m a boring guy.”

  Holly wasn't sure why she wanted to know these details about him. Maybe because he was so reticent to talk, so embarrassed by anyone being interested in him. She rubbed her hands together. If she were good at anything, it was getting people to talk.

  “Okay, you know what we should do?” she asked.

  “Should I even ask?”

  “Let’s play Truth or Dare.”

  He stared at her, and then he laughed that husky laugh that sent shivers down her spine. “Holly, this isn’t some seventh grade girls’ sleepover.”

  She ignored that. “You can start. Go on.”

  Leaning back against the couch, he assessed her. The fire crackled and a log collapsed in the grate, which made Holly jump.

  “Okay, truth or dare?”

  She smiled. “Truth.”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “That’s a boring question! No, no, no, you have to ask something juicy. Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never played!”

  He let out a breath and thought for a moment. Waiting in anticipation, Holly set her chin on her hand.

  “Fine,” he said, “what did you want to be when you grew up?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. I wanted to be a unicorn.”

  “A unicorn.”

  “Yes, a unicorn.”

  “That’s not exactly a profession.”

  “It is when you’re four.”

  He stared at her, like she’d sprouted a unicorn horn right in his living room. Smiling widely, she explained, “My mom read The Last Unicorn to me when I was little, and after that, I decided I was going to become one. I told everyone who’d ask that that was what I was going to be when I grew up.”

  His gaze had softened, and her traitorous heart sped up at the look. “So why didn’t you grow up to be a unicorn in the end?”

  “Some kid told me they didn’t exist, and that was that. My dream was dashed into pieces.” She stared into the fire. It was silly, but she rather thought that that had been the first moment where she’d grown up. Before then, she’d believed she could become anything or anyone. After that, she’d had to learn the hard lesson of tempering expectations.

  “Truth or dare,” she asked him, wanting to push those memories away.

  He considered. “Since I have a feeling you’ll make me go outside and freeze, let’s do truth.”

  “Who was your first kiss?”

  To her amusement, a wash of red climbed up his cheeks. Or it could’ve just been from the reddish glow of the fire. She waited expectantly.

  “Are we really talking about this—?” He sighed. “It was Danielle Hanson, third grade.”

  “Third grade!”

  “She was my Valentine, you see.” His voice was low, and Holly pulled her blanket closer to control her sudden shivering. “I gave her a Valentine, and she told me to meet her behind the slide at recess. She told me she wanted me to be her boyfriend, and I kissed her.”

  “What happened after that?”

  He smiled wryly. “She stomped on my foot and said I was gross and to never kiss her again. So, my first love ended.”

  “Was your heart broken?”

  He shook his head. “I had a new girlfriend a week later.”

  “For shame!” The dogs looked up at her rebuke, and she laughed. “Who knew that Office Haldon was such a playboy?”

  Now he was definitely blushing, which was intriguing. She’d gotten so used to Sam and his ilk
that she’d forgotten there were people in this world who’d remained innocent. She’d lost her own innocence years ago, shed like a skin that had never fit her in the first place.

  “Truth or dare?” Matt asked.

  “Truth.”

  “Okay, who was your first kiss?”

  She smiled at the memory. “Aaron Slater in sixth grade. He was the most popular boy in school, and I’d had a crush on him the entire year. He asked me to the school dance, and then afterward, took me outside and kissed me.”

  Frowning, Matt replied, “I hope he only kissed you.”

  “We were twelve!” Indignant, she added, “We didn’t even know how to kiss, let alone do anything else. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d tried to go further. I’m sure you were the prettiest girl in school.”

  To her surprise, a blush crawled up her cheeks. She looked away from his gaze, staring at the fire, which had been steadily fading as they’d talked. What time was it? What was she doing?

  Matt grunted something and got up, and she wondered if she’d done something to offend him. But he just returned with a few beers, telling her they might as well drink something while they talked.

  They bantered and revealed silly secrets from their pasts, and Holly discovered that Matt had missed his high school prom because he’d been suspended for a senior prank (it involved crickets and pigs set loose in the school), and that he’d almost given up his dream of becoming a police officer to take over his father’s business when his father became ill.

  “I’m the only son, but my parents never expected me to take over the business,” he explained. “When my dad got cancer, things changed. I had to take off a year from school to keep things afloat. By the end, I wasn’t sure if I’d even go back.”

  “What changed your mind?” she asked softly.

  He smiled, but it was a sad smile. “My dad knew he didn’t have much time left. He took me aside and said that there was no reason I should throw away my future because of him. So I didn’t.”

  Holly wished she could tell a story like that about her parents, but she’d never known her father, and her mother was God only knew where right now. Holly’s mom had dragged her from place to place, boyfriend to boyfriend, always looking for drugs and a place to sleep. By the time Holly had been in junior high, she’d run away enough times that the state put her in foster care. She’d left on her eighteenth birthday to attend college before she’d met Sam.

  The conversation lulled, and Holly finished off her second beer and began on the third. She was pleasantly tipsy at the moment, and warm from the fire, the blanket, and the alcohol. She noticed that Matt had unbuttoned his shirt, which revealed a golden throat with light stubble dotting it. Wondering if he would taste as yummy as he looked, she willed herself not to reach out and touch him.

  It’s just been too long since you’ve had sex, her hazy mind reasoned. Once you get on the road, you’ll forget all about him.

  She had a distinct feeling that wouldn’t be the case, but she was good at lying to herself. And her brain was too mushy to combat the idea, anyway.

  “Tell me why you left Louisiana.” Matt lifted his beer to his lips as he looked at her.

  She swallowed. Sipping her own beer, she called herself all sorts of foolish for starting this game in the first place. Then again, there was a feeling of relief in the idea of spilling everything to this man. Would he understand, though? Or would he look at her in disgust instead of with his eyes flashing in the firelight?

  “I broke up with my boyfriend a month ago,” she said, staring at the dancing flames of the fireplace. “But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Sam, he is—was—volatile. Emotional. We’d break up, and then he’d come back, begging for me to take him back. I always fell for it, but this time, I was done.”

  Matt just waited for her to continue.

  “I got my own place and everything. I’d gotten a decent job down at the mall, and I was paying my rent. I’d never done that before—Sam had always done it. I’d changed my number, all the things they tell you to do. But he still found me.”

  Her voice fell away, and she sensed the tension running through Matt’s body.

  “What happened?” he asked softly.

  She shrugged, but it was a pointless gesture. It was an attempt at levity where no levity could be found. “He came to my place, and we had a fight. A huge one. He…he pushed me up against the wall and tried to choke me.”

  Matt swore, and she looked at him in surprise. “That piece of shit,” he growled. “I hope you killed him?”

  She shook her head. “The cops came, and they took him away. But I knew that he’d get out on bail and find me. So I packed up my stuff and drove. I didn’t even know where I’d go. And now I’m here, telling you my sob story.”

  “Holly.” He looked like he wanted to touch her, but thought better of it. “I’m sorry.”

  “You know, it’s funny. When people say that, I never believe them. I always think, ‘why are they the ones saying sorry?’ They didn’t do anything. With you, I believe that you mean it.”

  They gazed at each other, and Holly felt her heart crack. Just a little—a mere fissure—but she wondered, with an overwhelming sadness, if the entire trajectory of her life could’ve been different if she’d met this man years earlier.

  Now, though, it was simply too late. She wasn’t going to get Matt involved in her troubles. She’d go underground, and forget any of this ever happened.

  This was what she told herself, even though she knew with a painful clarity that it was a complete lie.

  Chapter 3

  As the night waned on, Matt was aware of two pressing things: one, they were going to be out of firewood soon and the power hadn’t come back on yet; and two, he was becoming more and more unwilling to part with Holly in the morning.

  He watched as the fire slowly waned down to a mere spark, and he cursed himself for not getting more firewood before tonight. But who would have thought that the power would go out—and be out—this long? It had been close to three hours now, and the house was beginning to get colder, but nothing dire yet. He glanced at Holly, wrapped up in her blankets, and his very stupid mind told him he wouldn’t mind sharing body warmth with her if necessary.

  Leave her alone, he told himself. She’s been through hell and back again. She doesn’t need you getting handsy.

  This was what Matt told himself, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from pouring into his mind. He couldn’t sleep now. How could he sleep with her sitting next to him, smelling of flowers, her bright red hair glinting in the low light?

  He saw her shiver. “You want another blanket?” he asked.

  She rubbed her arms underneath the blanket around her. “I’m just so cold,” she said softly, like it surprised her. “Do you think they’ll get the power on anytime soon?”

  Considering they were out in the middle of nowhere…he doubted it. The storm raged on outside, and although he could maybe try to drive into town if he were desperate enough, he could also end up in a ditch like Holly, and then he’d been in real trouble. He couldn’t very well go out into the blizzard to chop down wood for the fire, either. So he got up, grabbed all of the blankets and comforters he had, and wrapped the fuzziest one around Holly’s thin shoulders.

  “Come and sit with me,” he said, not even thinking about what he was saying. If she were cold, he could warm her. It would be silly not to share warmth. “I’m basically a human furnace.”

  She hesitated, but after a moment of indecision, she scooted toward him. She didn’t sit right next to him, though, like they were in junior high on their first date. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “I won’t bite, I promise.”

  She laughed softly. Moving until her thigh pressed against his, she curled up against him. Matt wrapped his arm around her, and he couldn’t help the feeling that this was right. She fit perfectly against him.

  “Better
?” His voice was husky, low. If he didn’t know better, they were lovers, sitting together in front of the fire on a winter’s night.

  She looked up at him, her lashes dark, and she said in a voice that sent a shiver through him, “Better.”

  He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so badly he felt it in his bones. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe from everyone who would try to hurt her, and he wanted to make her smile and laugh. He wanted to tell her about his boring life and have her tell him that he wasn’t boring, but that he had as much to offer as anyone else.

  Reaching up to stroke her cheek, he reveled when she didn’t push him away. She just stared up at him, her gaze unreadable in the dim light, and he touched the silky softness of her cheek. He pushed a strand of her hair off of her forehead. He touched her hair. And then he leaned down, not thinking, just feeling—and wanting.

  “Matt…” She turned her face away. Was she breathing harder, or was it his imagination? “We can’t.”

  His heart plummeted to his toes. What the hell was he doing? Did he really take women home and then try to kiss them when they had nowhere else to go? Disgust filled him, but only directed at himself.

  When Holly tried to move away, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. But I don’t want you to freeze.” She didn’t say anything, so he added, “I won’t touch you again. I promise.”

  He saw a bit of a smile on her face. “It’s not that I don’t want you to, but I can’t. I’m too messed up. There’s too much of…everything.” She looked up at him again. “You know what I mean?”

  He did, and he didn’t. But he nodded, and they stared into the dying fire, and Matt told himself when the snow stopped, he’d let her go. He’d let her go, and he’d never see her again.

  But the snow raged on, and on, piling up outside, and when the fire completely went out, the house was plunged into darkness and frigid temperatures. Matt wished he hadn’t been cheap, deciding against a back-up generator. When he got up to go to the bathroom, he saw that the outside thermometer read 0 degrees Fahrenheit. He turned on the radio when he got back, and the weather report didn’t help him feel better.

 

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