The Holiday Hideaway

by J. L. Jarvis

  The incident did have an upside. Luke had stopped a predator from continuing to hurt other women. It was troubling to consider how many women would have been assaulted by that monster if Luke hadn’t been so alert and sprung into action. When she’d given her statement to the police, they told her that her drink had, in fact, been drugged. They’d also mentioned that Luke had stopped by the station and given a statement. She wondered when that had happened. He must have stopped on his way out of town. The important thing was that a predator would have to account for his crime. She had to admit the situation had ended well.

  She realized that Luke would never have let anything happen to her. For that reason alone, there were worse sorts to have as a neighbor. Aunt Eleanor must have figured that out about him, hence her obvious trust. That reminded Chloe of the key. She really needed to do something about swapping the house keys when he got back. Not that she didn’t trust Luke. If a rabid bear or ruthless criminals broke into her home, Luke would be her first phone call from her hiding place under the bed. But she didn’t trust anyone with her house keys, except maybe her mother, so she wanted them back.

  She found herself counting the days he’d been gone, so his going away was for the best. It gave her time to calm down and acquire a philosophical attitude toward him. She was curious, though. He didn’t owe her an explanation, but she wondered where he was. And that was the crux of the problem. She wondered too much about things, about Luke in particular. As Winston Churchill would say, Luke was a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigmatic and staggeringly good-looking neighbor. Churchill might not have put it exactly that way, but the essence was there.

  With one more look at the house across the road, Chloe exhaled and went to get ready. She glanced at her watch. She had an hour, which was time to shower, dress, and put on some makeup. She was going out on a date.

  Slightly past noon, a car pulled into the driveway. Chloe waited at the door for the doorbell to ring, then she took a few slow breaths and opened the door. “Easton. Hi!” She grabbed her purse.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  As they walked to the car, he stopped and looked into her eyes. “You look nice.”

  Chloe felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Thank you.” They gazed at each other for a moment as if frozen in time. Then a car engine broke the spell.

  Luke pulled into his driveway. Chloe watched, but he didn’t get out of his car.

  “Shall we?” Easton touched her back lightly and gestured toward the passenger’s side with his other hand. She got in, and they were off for an afternoon at a Christmas festival. Easton got it—Christmas and everything that came with it, including decorations and carols. They were meant for each other.

  Chloe stole a wistful glance at Luke’s parked car before Easton drove out of sight.

  Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

  Nine

  The Christmas craft fair was everything Chloe loved about Christmas. Kiosks were filled with every Christmas craft and gift item imaginable. They were never more than ten yards away from a food tent with treats like hot chocolate, eggnog, Christmas cookies, and pastries. A corner of the grounds was devoted to children, with cookie decorating, gingerbread houses, games, and face paint.

  Easton bought two hot chocolates, then they found a bench and sat down. Chloe studied him as he told her about himself. He had the sort of square-jawed, athletic good looks one would expect of someone manning a yacht, with the positive outlook of one whose life had been sheltered from any negative aspects.

  They arrived at the Ferris wheel, which they’d agreed to save for last since they both had a passion for them. When it started, Easton put his arm around Chloe’s shoulders. It was sweet and romantic, yet Chloe found herself trying to figure out why she felt nothing. From the start, she’d had great expectations for what she and Easton might be together. They had so much in common. But looking at him was like gazing into a new picture frame or an outdoor-clothing catalog full of nice-looking strangers she felt nothing for. They might exhibit all the right features, but she had no desire to make out with any of them, which she realized as she took one more look at Easton was a crying shame.

  She surveyed the grounds as they rounded the top of the Ferris wheel. What a perfect afternoon it had been. They’d acted like two kids without parental supervision, going from one ride or booth to the next. He was fun and companionable. Was the lack of chemistry between them some cruel trick of nature?

  It began snowing. Easton turned to her with wonder in his eyes. “Could it get any more perfect?”

  Chloe smiled. No, with one glaring exception. The snow floated down then melted when it landed on the ground. By the time they got off the ride, snow was beginning to cover every surface with a light gauzy coating. Easton took Chloe’s hand, and they walked to his car.

  They were quiet on the ride home, but it was a comfortable quiet. She liked that about Easton. He didn’t force conversation. By the time he pulled onto Chloe’s road, the snow clung to the branches, and the trees looked like lace. Everything was so beautiful, a perfect romantic vision.

  There couldn’t have been more than an inch of snow on the ground, yet Luke emerged from his garage and began scraping his shovel over the driveway in straight, tidy rows. Seriously? It was as if he thought his all-wheel-drive SUV couldn’t make it through in an emergency—for instance, if he ran out of beer.

  Without turning her head, Chloe looked sideways at Luke as Easton made the turn into her driveway. He told her to wait then walked around to open her door. He offered his hand, and they walked hand in hand to the door.

  “Thank you. It was such a nice afternoon.”

  Easton looked happy to hear it. “I’m glad. I enjoyed spending it with you.” He glanced away almost bashfully then gazed into her eyes. “May I kiss you?”

  For one moment, she wondered if maybe there was some untapped chemistry hiding under the surface and waiting to burst into unbridled passion. She had to find out. “Yes.”

  His kiss was gentle and nice, just like him. He even knew just when to end it. She hoped she did, too, because they, as a couple, were not going to happen. What had she expected—that his kiss might awaken her hormones like some sort of modern-day Sleeping Beauty? It hadn’t. She didn’t feel a thing except that she liked him and truly regretted not feeling more.

  “Easton?”

  He gave her a boyish grin that probably made all the girls sigh.

  “You’re just amazing, but…”

  He exhaled, looking relieved. “You too?”

  Chloe held back. She didn’t want to assume.

  “It’s okay. I think you’re amazing too, but…” He laughed, and Chloe joined in.

  Still laughing, she said, “I really did have a fun afternoon. You’re fantastic, and I love anything Christmas.”

  “Me too.” He gazed at her. “Maybe we could get together sometime, just as friends. I do like you.”

  Chloe nodded. “That sounds great.”

  With a resolved nod, he said, “Good.” Then he held out his arms, and they hugged.

  The loud scrape of a shovel cut into the silence. Chloe glanced over Easton’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of Luke’s glare a split second before he turned and went into his garage. The door hummed as it closed.

  Chloe waved at Easton as he backed onto the road and drove off, then she went inside, poured a glass of wine, and sat at the kitchen counter. She wondered if it was by design that the stool where she sat was the ideal height to look out the window at Luke’s house. She sipped some wine. His driveway looked nice. God knew that inch of snow would have really hampered his exit—the exit he wasn’t going to need to make any time soon. She frowned. And what is the deal with the shovel? Ernest Shackleton’s ship didn’t make that much noise when the polar ice crushed it. Probably. She didn’t actually know.

  What she did know was that just when she’d decided to forgive Luke, he had managed to annoy her again. She rolled her eyes in frus
tration. The only thing for it was wine. She took a sip and, as she set down her glass, spied his house keys. Well, those have to go, and I want my keys back. She glanced at her wineglass. “Be right back.” Pausing at the mirror, she grabbed her purse then dug out some lipstick. Because my lips are dry! Why would she care about how she looked?

  One minute later, she stood outside Luke’s door. She only rang the bell once before he answered. “Chloe, hi.” He stepped aside so she could enter, then he closed the door.

  Oh, don’t look so surprised to see me. She was tempted to ask if she could borrow his shovel, but she refrained. “How was your week?”

  “Good.” His seemed distracted. “And yours?”

  “Good.”

  “Have a nice day with Weston?”

  She stared into his eyes, but she couldn’t for the life of her tell if he was joking. He had to be. Didn’t he? “Easton.”

  As he nodded, his mouth twitched at the corner. Okay, he was joking.

  “Yeah, it was great,” she continued. “We’re getting married tomorrow.” It just came out. She said it as if they were getting mani-pedis together. She held Luke’s gaze with a straight face while his face went through some transitions.

  He did a double take when he realized what she’d said. She could see the wheels turning before his eyebrows drew together. But his look of alarm was the best.

  “Not really. We were going to go steady, but he couldn’t find his class ring.” She chuckled, but it didn’t feel as good as she’d thought it would. That was probably because Luke wasn’t laughing… at all. “I’m joking.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I don’t know.” She lifted her shoulders. “To be funny?”

  His only reply was a slightly confused but otherwise blank stare.

  Wow, this is really… awkward.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  Her jaw dropped, then she closed it and peered at him. “Why would you say that?” She blew out a breath. “Two sips. Maybe three. Which reminds me, that’s when I saw these.” She fished the keys from her jacket pocket and held them out to him.

  He stared at them but made no effort to take them. “Keep them. Eleanor and I exchanged keys in case of an emergency. I’ve got a set of yours.”

  “Yeah, so I figured. I’d like mine back if that’s okay.” If that’s okay? It had better be!

  He gave her a questioning look then went into the kitchen. A minute of small scraping and rattling noises followed that sounded like the shifting of contents in a very full junk drawer. He emerged with her keys, and they made the exchange.

  “Look, Chloe, I can see you’re still upset with me about that evening.”

  “No, not at all. I just wanted my keys back.”

  “I forgot they were there, to be honest. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

  “No, it’s okay. I just… well, anyway, we’re good, right?”

  “Sure.” He didn’t look good at all.

  Chloe searched his eyes, wondering why the two of them couldn’t seem to get anything right. Because you made it awkward, Miss Give-Me-My-Keys-Back. “Well, thanks. I should get back.” She turned toward the door.

  “Easton seems like a nice guy,” Luke said.

  “Yeah, he is.”

  He nodded, and she smiled half-heartedly. She walked back to her house, but she wanted to run. She would need another week on her own to get over the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. Luke did that to her. No, the truth was she let him affect her that way, and she couldn’t seem to help it. Why is this walk home taking so long?

  When she arrived home and made it inside, she looked at her wineglass. “You and I have some thinking to do. Did I say thinking? I meant drinking.”

  Ten

  Chloe paused to look past her easel and sighed. It was snowing, and she was painting. It didn’t get any better than that. On her easel was a watercolor paper on which she’d sketched the view behind her house. She was ready to paint.

  Her phone beeped with a weather alert. A snowstorm was coming. It had been on the news for a week, but the forecast had worsened. The foot of snow they’d been predicting had increased to two. She set down her brush and went to the window. The snow was at least a foot deep already. Chloe needed to shovel the driveway. It would take her forever to shovel a foot of snow. Even done in installments, two feet of snow would be overwhelming. She assessed the effort and time as if they were part of a math word problem, and the answer was no. She frowned as she faintly recalled seeing a business card in her aunt’s kitchen drawer. She went to the kitchen and found it. Relieved, she dialed the phone.

  Ten minutes later, she put down the phone. Her aunt’s plow guy was booked. He referred her to two other buddies of his. They also had their hands full with their seasonal clients. She slumped down on the stool and stared at the counter. She should have planned ahead. After divulging in a full minute of regret, she got up and got dressed for some quality time in the snow. Aunt Eleanor kept a snow shovel in the garage, next to the door. Chloe grabbed it on her way out. Duh. Gloves. Shovel in hand, she went back for her gloves then stepped outside and stared at the task before her.

  An hour later, she leaned on her shovel and surveyed her work. By her estimation, she’d finished about ten percent of her driveway. Would it have killed them to build the house close to the road? She picked up her shovel and resumed. Only nine or ten hours to go.

  The rumble of a motor destroyed the one thing she’d been enjoying, the pristine stillness of fresh snowfall in a pine forest. She looked over at Luke, who was cutting a swath through his driveway with a big-ass snowblower. I hate you. She did her best to ignore him. So what if I’m old school? I’ll get the job done, and goddamn it, nothing under my upper arms will ever jiggle again. But as she worked, she fantasized about the snowblower display she’d walked past without thinking on her way into the hardware store to buy light bulbs. Any one of those bad boys could have been mine.

  Twenty minutes later, the rumble came closer. Luke waved for her to move out of the way. If the snowblower weren’t so loud, she might have heard a chorus of angels. He proceeded to make quick work of her driveway. Mere minutes later, he waved and steered his snowblower back to his garage. Chloe was beginning to think that maybe it was time to put aside their past differences. The least she could do was send him a thank-you text.

  She reached into her pocket for her phone, but it was not there. She realized she must have left it on the counter when she’d put on her gloves. Chloe went to the front door, which was locked. She could envision her keys as clearly as if she were inside. Her phone and her keys were on the counter inside, where it was warm. But she was outside in the cold and desolate wilderness.

  This can’t be happening. She tried the garage door, but it was locked too. Next, she trudged through the snow to the back door. She knew that one was locked. At that point, Chloe felt as if she were dreaming. She heaved such a deep sigh, she practically made snow—like she needed any more. There was something to be said for keeping a key under the doormat or exchanging keys with a neighbor. Crap.

  Chloe walked back to the front of her house and looked in through the window. Yup. There they were, keys and phone. Okay, think.

  Footsteps crunched through the snow. She winced. No…

  “Everything okay?”

  Chloe turned and faced Luke. “Yes. A-OK.” A-OK?

  “Okay. Well, don’t let me keep you.”

  She tried to sound light and carefree. “You’re not.”

  He hesitated, studying her. “Okay. Well, I guess I should be going.” He turned away.

  “Luke? Can I use your phone?”

  He turned back with a look of surprise then patted his pockets. “It’s in the house.”

  “Yeah, mine too.” Oops. I mean, err… “It’s dead.” Good save.

  “But your landline still works, right?”

  Maybe not such a good save. “I don’t need a landline. I’ve g
ot my cell.”

  “You should keep it. The signal up here is spotty at best.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  He looked past her to the warm light that shone from the window. “It shouldn’t take long to charge your phone just enough for a phone call. But if that doesn’t work, you’re welcome to come over and use mine.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “No problem. See you later.”

  “Bye.”

  He didn’t move. “You’re locked out, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  A light came to his eyes, but he didn’t say a word. Chloe waited for him to point out that she wouldn’t be in this predicament if she hadn’t asked for her key back. To her surprise and tremendous relief, he didn’t say it. God knew he could have. Instead, he stood for a moment, apparently thinking and probably savoring the moment. Then, with a crooked smile, he went to the door and looked at the lock. He tried to turn the handle. “Yeah, it’s locked.”

  Chloe frowned. “I’m aware.”

  He took off his gloves and stuck them in his back pocket. Then he pulled out his wallet and took out two small metal tools no larger than unwound paper clips. He put one of them in the keyhole and tilted it slightly. Then he inserted the other tool with it. Using both tools, he pushed, pulled, and jiggled for several seconds. Then the handle turned, and he opened the door. “There you go.”

  Chloe stared. “How did you do that?”

  He shook his head. “It’s just something I’ve picked up along the way.”

  “Really? ’Cause that didn’t come up in my college coursework.”

  He grinned. “Maybe you took the wrong courses.”

  “So getting my key back from you…”