Jake's Story: A Christmas Key Novella

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Jake's Story: A Christmas Key Novella Page 7

by Stephanie Taylor


  And Lieutenant England and the rest of the guys could laugh their tails off about the Turtle Incident—and they had laughed when he’d emailed them the details—but Jake had already come to terms with the fact that “to serve and protect” meant more than just patrolling crime-ridden streets and dealing with the darkest parts of society. There was nothing wrong with helping his elders make emergency trips to the doctor, or protecting wildlife, and he’d quickly realized that the stress he’d been under in Miami was more than he could bear when coupled with the loss of his partner. He watched happy tears slide down Holly’s smooth cheek, then he reached over and took her hand in his. She gave him a surprised smile.

  After everyone had spoken, the crowd walked out into the early evening, laughing and talking as they went. Iris and Jimmy Cafferkey had offered the use of the Jingle Bell Bistro just down Holly Lane, so some of the islanders walked the short distance, while a few of the older and more frail took their golf carts. Cap Duncan offered to drive Mrs. Agnelli, so Jake hung back with Holly, watching as everyone trickled down the unpaved road.

  “Wow,” Jake said, looking at the dusty toes of his black dress shoes. “Mrs. Agnelli has had an amazing life.”

  Holly nodded. “She has. The people on this island have so many stories…”

  “I believe it.”

  “Just think of all the different reasons people end up here, on an island in the middle of nowhere. It’s pretty fascinating,” she said, clutching her black purse under one arm. “Oh, no, these are my favorite shoes,” Holly moaned, looking down at her black sandals. They were covered with a fine, sandy powder. “I’m going barefoot,” she decided, reaching out for Jake’s arm to steady herself as she pulled the shoes off. She sunk about two inches without the boost from her heels, and without her ever-present baseball cap, Jake could actually see her whole face. “So, Officer—what’s your story?” Holly asked him.

  “Oh, you know, typical stuff: police officer gets caught taking money out of the ‘give a penny, take a penny’ box at 7-11, eats all the pastries in the break room in one go, deletes speeding tickets from the system for all his friends and family, and then gets banished to a castaway island. No big deal.” Jake shrugged.

  “The ‘give a penny, take a penny box’?” Holly laughed, walking so close to him now that their arms bumped every time they took a step. “So then you were pretty hard up for cash? Or maybe you’re some kind of thrill-seeker?”

  “Yeah, I’m getting my adrenaline fix right now by escorting widows to their own wakes and letting sixty-year-old women teach me how to do the ‘mashed potato’ to Fats Domino songs in the coffee shop before work.”

  Holly stopped walking as she laughed, her head thrown back in the soft afternoon light. “Fats Domino?” she sputtered. “Sometimes I forget how hilarious this place is. I’ve been here so long that it all seems normal to me, and then I get a reminder that not everyone lives like this.”

  “Not everyone does,” Jake said seriously. “You’re really lucky.”

  “I am. I know.” They walked in silence for a minute. “So they sent us a corrupt police officer to protect the island,” Holly finally said with amusement.

  “Actually, the worst thing I ever did was tell my youngest sister that we found her wandering the streets of Miami by herself, so we brought her home to keep as a pet.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She cried,” Jake admitted.

  “That’s so mean!”

  “Clearly you don’t have siblings,” he said. “Teasing them and making them cry is half the fun.”

  Holly and Jake strolled along slowly as the sun started to dip behind the waving palm trees.

  “Nope, no siblings.” Holly shook her head. She held her shoes by their straps, letting them swing as she walked. They ambled toward the Jingle Bell Bistro, watching as the other islanders filed into the restaurant that looked out onto the water.

  Everyone had dropped off their food before meeting at the chapel, and Jake had heard talk of pastas and salads, of deviled eggs and mini sausages. He loosened his tie, hoping to find a cold beer at the end of the road.

  “So, that’s really the worst thing you’ve ever done?” Holly asked, looking up at him with narrowed, disbelieving eyes.

  Jake stopped walking. He unbuttoned the top button at his throat, folding his tie and slipping it into his pants pocket.

  “No,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they were truly alone on Holly Lane. “I think the worst thing I’ve ever done is hit on a girl at a funeral.” His smile spread slowly and impishly as he watched awareness dawn on Holly’s face. To her credit, she took the bait.

  “What? That’s a terrible thing to do!” she said, giving him a disapproving look like an uptight school marm.

  Jake took a step closer; she didn’t move away. “I couldn’t help it,” he said quietly, reaching out and putting one hand on her waist. “She was smart and funny and she looked amazing in black.”

  “I bet she was classy,” Holly said knowingly, looking past his arm at the restaurant in the distance. “You know, the kind of girl who didn’t walk around barefoot in her dress clothes.”

  Jake nodded, using the hand that was resting on Holly’s hip to pull her closer to him. “Mmhmm. She was classy,” he confirmed, his gaze fixed on hers. “And she had good taste in movies.”

  “And music? I bet she had excellent taste in music,” Holly said, smiling as Jake’s head moved closer to hers.

  “Sure. She had a pretty impressive music collection. And she was a Yankees fan.”

  “Sounds like my kind of girl,” Holly said, letting both of her shoes fall to the sandy road. She wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck, looking into his eyes. “I’m disappointed that she’d lead you astray by making out with you at a funeral, but…”

  “Who said anything about making out?”

  Jake’s lips were inches from hers and he paused there, drawing out the moment. He might be moving too fast, and he might be making a mistake by starting something with the feisty, young mayor of an island the size of a nickel, but Jake couldn’t help himself: this girl was beautiful and funny, and he could tell the feeling was mutual. “Maybe it all started with a simple kiss,” he said.

  Holly’s eyes closed gently, her lashes resting on her cheeks as she tilted her head up to Jake’s. “It always does,” she whispered as their lips met.

  The waves crashed nearby, just beyond the sand dunes, and Jake pulled Holly to him completely. He could feel her heart beating through the thin fabric of her dress—could feel the warm skin of her arms on the back of his neck as she held him.

  For the first time in a long time, Jake felt like he was home.

 

 

 


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