Love, Lies & Mistletoe

by Jennifer Snow

  “Sure, dear. So, about the party...”

  Yes, let’s talk about that. Much easier, much less confusing. “Well, I was thinking we could keep it simple—just invite maybe fifty or sixty people. I’ll close the pool hall side for a special event. We can ask Ginger to bake a cake...”

  “What kind does he like?”

  How was she supposed to know? Up until a week ago, no one in town knew anything at all about the man. And now all she knew was he had a sister and a nephew and the most beautiful set of dark brown eyes she’d ever gotten lost in. “Chocolate seems safe enough,” she said.

  “Okay, well with fifty plus people, we’ll need at least two—maybe a cheesecake and a regular cake—and then what about catering?” She grabbed her day planner and opened to a blank note section in the back.

  Heather remembered what he’d said about Joey’s Diner tampering with his food, and she giggled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s just...they were totally messing with him at the diner last week...” She shook her head, laughing again as she remembered the look on his face when he’d asked if she, too, had been messing with his drinks.

  “Yeah, you’re not attracted to him at all,” Darlene said sarcastically.

  “I just thought it was funny,” she said quickly. “Anyway, catering should probably be the Fireside Grill. I want him to feel safe eating.”

  “Yeah, but that could get pricey, dear. Especially on short notice, this time of year.”

  She hesitated. Darlene was right. The Fireside Grill was the only real fine dining they had in Brookhollow. The five-star restaurant was located on the border of the town park with a fantastic view of the lake. Their menu wasn’t cheap. She bit her lip. Her savings were dwindling...but hopefully soon she’d have a new job. Oddly enough, it was that thought that made her feel uneasy. “You know what? Let’s do it. The guy saved Lily’s life after all, right?” And besides, the revenue the bar would make on drinks at the event would ease her guilt over quitting.

  Not to mention she was most definitely not not falling for Jake.

  * * *

  WHEN HIS SHIFT ended that evening, Jacob drove straight past the pool hall without stopping. In fact, he sped up a little.

  He had to put some distance between himself and the gorgeous brunette whose intense “oh, no, what did we let happen?” expression a few days before had told him everything he needed to know. She was into him, but she wasn’t happy about it.

  He wasn’t exactly thrilled about his attraction to her, either.

  He’d always done well keeping things casual with the women he dated. One of the most fortunate aspects of his circumstances when he’d applied to go undercover was that he hadn’t been married, seeing anyone or attached in any way. No children or wife who would suffer or cause him any guilt or grief while he focused on his assignment. He’d been capable of going under full-time until the case was solved, which made him the first choice among the applicants. He’d always been motivated by the idea of serving a greater good, so he’d been stoked when he was promoted.

  At least until he’d told Amber...

  “What do you mean undercover?” Amber’s eyes had narrowed over her glass of wine. He’d taken her out to celebrate his good news.

  “Exactly what it sounds like. I’m being promoted to the narcotics division,” he’d said quietly.

  “Promoted?”

  “Yes. The pay raise is almost fifteen grand, and my first assignment starts in a few months.” His commanding chief officer had been eager to get him on assignment, but first he’d needed to undergo training with a senior undercover officer who had experience with similar cases. The other officer would teach him how to dress, how to act and how to talk like the drug cartel he would be infiltrating. Fitting in would be key to the success of the operation and—most of all—his safety.

  “How long is the assignment?” she’d asked.

  He’d looked away then, cutting into his steak. “Not sure. Some assignments are a few weeks...others a few years.”

  “Years?!” Her raised voice had caught the attention of other diners, and he’d shushed her.

  “Yes, possibly. Hopefully not.” Knowing he’d have little or no contact with Amber and Kyle while he was working the case had been the only drawback, and it was a big one.

  Amber had sat back in her chair, her lips set in a thin, straight line.

  Jacob had sighed. He’d avoided marriage and kids of his own to prevent his life choices from being influenced by others, but thinking about what going undercover meant—leaving his sister and nephew—still made him feel terrible and second-guess his choice. But making the streets safer for his family had to be better, right?

  “You’re telling Kyle,” she’d said.

  “That’s fair.” He’d pushed his plate away, his appetite vanishing. His nephew was going to be upset, and the idea broke his heart. He hoped the little boy would understand, if not appreciate, the sacrifice he was making.

  The two of them were close. Especially since the boy’s grandfather had gone to jail. The little boy’s father was an artist whom Amber had fallen in love with in art school, but he’d left for a museum curator’s job in Paris shortly after graduating, which he’d claimed was the opportunity of a lifetime. She’d found out a month later that she was pregnant. She’d told him, but he’d refused to believe Kyle was his. Nice guy.

  “Look, I’m sorry.” He felt like a jerk for leaving them when he knew they depended on him.

  Across from him, his sister had been silent.

  “Amber, this is my life. I supported your decision to open the art gallery, didn’t I?” He’d more than supported it; he’d helped her with the deposit on the building’s lease.

  Obviously the same thought crossed her mind because her expression had softened just a little bit. “Yes, you did.” She’d sighed. “This sucks, Jacob.”

  “I know.” His excitement over the news gone, the full realization of the assignment’s implications setting in, he’d begun to worry whether he was doing the right thing.

  His sister’s ability to read him was uncanny. “Don’t question your decision. I never intended for you to be the father figure in Kyle’s life—that’s not something I meant to put on you. You’re right. You have no reason not to accept this promotion.” She’d picked up her wineglass in a toast. “To my stupid kid brother and his terrible life choices,” she’d said, but her tone was at least partly teasing.

  He’d raised his glass. “I’ll drink to both.”

  Jacob climbed the stairs to his apartment now, grateful the house was empty. He rarely had time alone. Cody had mentioned they were having his aunt over for dinner that evening, so Jacob went back down to the kitchen and took his time preparing a sandwich and a pot of coffee.

  Once he’d eaten, he went back up to the attic and grabbed a pen and piece of paper. A letter to his nephew was overdue.

  Dear Kyle,

  Sorry, it’s taken me a while to write. It’s been so great getting your letters, and I’m so glad you and your mom are doing well.

  You can assure your mom I’m not lying around on a beach...in fact nothing could be further from the truth. Tell her I’m sorry that this time apart has lasted longer than I’d hoped, and I’m doing everything I can to get us all back to New York before the holidays.

  I’m building a parade float here, and it’s a gingerbread-world theme. It reminds me of the houses we make together every year, just much bigger. I wish you could see it. I’ll send pictures once it’s finished.

  Don’t give up hope yet. Anything can happen at Christmastime.

  Love you guys.

  Uncle Jacob

  He folded the letter and slid it into an envelope, then he wrote his nephew’s name on the front. Sheriff Bishop would fill in the res
t. He tucked it into his jacket pocket and sat back against the sofa cushions, thinking about what he’d just told Kyle. Anything could happen at Christmastime. An image of Heather flashed in his mind, and he groaned. Anything could happen. Did that include falling in love?

  * * *

  “I THOUGHT YOU said he comes in every night?” Lindsay asked Heather above the noise inside the pool hall.

  It was Friday night, and the last-minute party had miraculously come together, thanks to Darlene. But the guest list had somehow spiraled way out of control. There were at least two hundred people in the small space. For a guy who had rubbed everyone the wrong way just a few weeks ago, Jake certainly had a lot of fans now. Including a lot of young female fans, Heather noticed, eyeing the tables of beautiful twentysomethings whom she was pretty darn sure had not been on the original guest list.

  “He used to. This is weird,” she said, glancing at the clock. 8:05. This was the fourth night in a row that Jake hadn’t sat on the bar stool across from her while she worked. It was driving her crazy, and she was afraid it might have something to do with whatever had passed between them in the squad car...or had it been her rebuttal? He was avoiding her either way, it seemed. “I’ll call Sheriff Bishop and see if he’s at the station,” she said.

  Lindsay pointed toward the bowling alley, where the over-fifty league was taking advantage of the empty lanes to practice for the upcoming holiday tournament.

  “Well, I guess he can’t help us,” she said.

  Lindsay reached for her cell. “I’ll call Noah. He’s on shift at the fire hall tonight.” She disappeared toward the washrooms, where it was quieter, and there was better cell reception, for some reason. Heather continued to watch the front door.

  Come on. She couldn’t believe he was avoiding her. Actually, she could believe it. It was probably the smart way to handle things, as annoying as that might be. She’d received a call from Mike Ainsley earlier, for an interview on Monday morning. Things were progressing, and she needed to keep her focus on what was important. A fling with a man who insisted he was done with city life, even though it seeped from his every pore, was not a good idea. She needed to worry about her future. If and when she decided to start dating again, it had to be someone with similar goals, similar life plans and a similar zip code, preferably.

  “Yeah, he’s there,” Lindsay said, returning a moment later. “Noah told me the squad car is parked out back, and he’s in the office. Do you want me to fake an emergency call or something?”

  Heather sighed. “No, he’ll see through it.” She grabbed her coat, scarf and hat from behind the kitchen door. “Just keep everyone here, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “There’s still food and cake, no one’s going anywhere,” Lindsay said, reaching for a bacon-wrapped scallop.

  Heather looked around the packed pool hall. It was true. The catering was going over quite well, with the guests, if not her credit card. She just hoped she could drag Jake back here while there was still some decent food left, so he wouldn’t be stuck with the usual bar pretzels.

  * * *

  THE OFFICE DOOR OPENED, and Jacob looked up to see the one person in Brookhollow he was desperate to avoid. He jumped to his feet, spilling his steaming coffee down the front of his jeans. Ow, hot...

  Heather’s gaze darted there, then she quickly averted it. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” he said, reaching for a paper towel and dabbing at the stain. “What are you doing here?”

  She shrugged. “Well, since the first day you arrived in Brookhollow, you’ve been occupying a certain stool at my bar. And the last four nights, not so much.”

  “So you came to get me?” he asked, irritation seeping into his tone unintentionally. That was a first. Someone in town actually wanted him to be somewhere.

  “Are you working?” she asked, ignoring his grumpy mood and glancing at the paperwork on the desk.

  His cell phone sat on top, “Candy Crush” illuminating the screen. He reached for it and tucked it into his pocket. Damn, he’d almost completed Level 156. Not being at the bar the past four evenings, he’d had plenty of time to catch up on his candy crushing addiction. “Sort of...”

  “Well, what time are you done?”

  “Why?” He squinted at her. She was up to something. Was she about to ask him out? Obviously, she’d felt the spark between them, but he’d hoped she would be just as eager to put it out as he was, not allow it to turn into a flame.

  She shifted from one foot to the other in her higher-than-usual boots. Red leopard-patterned boots that reached her midcalf over dark blue skinny jeans. Brookhollow or not, Heather Corbett was all New York. And for once her mouth remained closed, forcing him to ask again, “Why do you want to know when I’m off?”

  “I just thought you might stop by the bar for a drink...like you used to do every night.” He could tell she was upset, but he wasn’t a mind reader. He had no idea what he’d done wrong. Had she been expecting him to act on the feelings he was developing for her? Was she peeved that he hadn’t? She was leaving town soon, and he had his own agenda.

  “Um...no, probably not. I’m going to try to finish up the paperwork from Lily’s statement...” And try not to think about her in those skinny jeans and red boots. He reached for the file.

  “Can’t it wait?”

  Okay, Heather was definitely not the type to beg for a date, so that couldn’t be it. He stood, hands on his hips. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing,” she said, taking a step back as he came around the desk to study her.

  “You should know I specialized in interrogation. I will get the truth,” he said, moving closer.

  She backed up until her butt reached the edge of Sheriff Bishop’s desk. She met his gaze defiantly but refused to speak.

  He stared at her, waiting... The silent stare-down continued for several seconds, until he couldn’t remember who was trying to shake whom.

  “Fine!” she said, just as he was about to cave and follow her anywhere she wanted him to go. “I’m throwing you a party at the pool hall.”

  He blinked. A party? Why? For rescuing Lily? That was kinda extreme...

  “A birthday party,” she said, when he didn’t respond.

  “A bir—” He stopped. Oh, no. His fake ID listed his birthday as December 7. Today.

  “Yes. There’s like two hundred people there right now eating the expensive food I bought and waiting for the guest of honor to arrive, the man who never failed to show up at the pool hall before a couple of nights ago, before whatever weird connection or spark we had obviously freaked him out. But you don’t have to avoid me—you have nothing to worry about because I feel nothing for—”

  “Talks-a-lot, stop talking for once,” he said, before grabbing her waist and pulling her close. He trailed a hand along her cold cheek, brushing several strands of hair away from her face.

  Her breath was ragged as his fingers touched her slightly swollen lips. “Jake...what are you doing?”

  What was he doing? He shook his head and let his hands fall away from her. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  She seemed slightly disappointed as she cleared her throat. “Anyway...the party. You have to come.”

  He shook his head. “No, I really don’t.” The last thing he wanted was more praise, more attention... For the past week, his blood sugar had been on a permanent spike from all the cookies and desserts people kept dropping off at the station. Pretty soon, he would be in a sugar coma. A party with more tempting food and a certain tempting brunette was sure to kill him.

  “Jake, please.”

  He dropped his gaze and sighed. He was in Brookhollow for one reason only, and he hated that he’d let someone get this close to have this guilt-inducing effect on him. “I can’t, Heather, I’m sorry.”

  * * *

 
HEATHER ANGRILY REACHED for the door of the pool hall ten minutes later, her heart still racing and not from the brisk four-block walk from the station. She couldn’t believe him. After all the effort and money she’d put into throwing him a party, he refused to show up? Unbelievable.

  Everyone in town had been right to think he was a jerk. She sighed. A jerk who’d just sent her heart into overdrive. What had happened back there? Had he been about to kiss her before she’d opened her mouth and ruined the moment? Typical.

  “Where is he?” Lindsay asked her.

  “He’s not—” she started, but her words were drowned out a second later.

  “Surprise!” Everyone shouted as Jake entered the bar.

  He was here?

  Her gaze locked with his, and he faked his shock, but not before Heather noticed a brief look of annoyance. Sorry, he mouthed at her.

  She swallowed hard, nodding, then turned away quickly to start pouring drinks. The guest of honor was here. “Let’s get the party started,” she mumbled.

  * * *

  IN THE THIRTY seconds after Heather had stormed out of the station, Jacob had battled with his thoughts and emotions. Finally, he’d come to the conclusion that it would be a jerk move not to attend his own birthday party, even if it wasn’t his real birthday. Heather had gone through a lot of trouble for him, and that thought had made him feel even worse. So he’d sucked it up and headed for the pool hall.

  In three hours, Jacob had met more Brookhollow residents than he had since coming to town. But his thoughts and his gaze kept returning to Heather. Of course, she’d tried to act as though she were ignoring him while she poured drinks for the party guests, refilled the food trays and played DJ, but he could sense her looking his way throughout the evening. Just being in the same room as her, there was an electricity, something he’d never felt before ripping through him.

  His relationship history consisted of one awkward three-month experience in high school followed by a period of casual dating. The closest he’d come to a real relationship hadn’t even been real. His first year undercover, he’d fallen for Leo Gonzales’s younger sister, Maria.