Page 14 of Holding Out For A Holiday Hero

They’d been worlds apart as teens.

Now their worlds were colliding.

True doesn’t know it, but I’m not some piss-poor punk any longer. He’d more than made his own fortune over the years. He could afford to buy the biggest house in town, if he wanted. He could have a luxury car. Five of them. Go on trips to the best places in the world.

But he didn’t do that shit. Because he was fine just as he was.

Alone?

The last thought slithered through his mind. Might have made him shift uncomfortably.

“I’ll just…change clothes real fast.” True was back in her red dress as she bent over the front door’s lock. “Give me a few moments to freshen up, and we can hit the museum. I’ll show you exactly where I was when the crash occurred.”

He trailed behind her as she opened the door and slipped inside. Anticipation filled him because he was quite curious about what the inside of True’s house would look like and?—

And it looked as if Christmas had exploded.

He nodded. Yep. That fit.

She’d wrapped green garland—with red bows—around the banisters that led up to the second floor. Two small, fully decorated trees were strategically placed on either side of the staircase. He could have sworn that he even smelled cinnamon hanging in the air. Of course, the woman’s house would smell delicious. How could it not?

“I’ll run upstairs. Please, make yourself at home.”

He strolled toward what he took to be her den. His eyes went first to the massive Christmas tree near her fireplace. Eight feet tall? Ten? And how had she gotten the bows to flow down the tree that way? His gaze followed the ribbon and bows as they twisted and flowed down to the bottom of?—

Shock rolled through him. “True?”

He could hear her steps on the stairs.

“True!” Louder. “I need you.”

And those steps immediately rushed back down the staircase. Her boots padded over the hardwood of the small foyer and then into the den as she breathlessly asked, “What is it?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. A giant Christmas tree. A stocking hung with care.” He took a step back so she could take in the full sights in the den. “And a dead body tucked in with the holiday presents.” When he made that last, bald statement, Jake was watching her face.

Absolute horror flashed across her expression even as she opened her mouth and screamed.

Jake nodded. “Right, guessing he is not supposed to be there.”

“What?” Another shriek. “Of course, he is not supposed to be there!”

“Then we have a problem.” When she lunged toward what was clearly a dead body, complete with a bullet hole in his chest—did the woman think she was gonna help the guy, now?—Jake wrapped his arms around her stomach and hauled her back. “Let’s not touch the body, sweets. Better to not contaminate the scene.”

“There is a dead body under my Christmas tree!” True shrieked.

Jake lifted her up and carried her back toward the front door.

“Jake, there is a dead body under my Christmas tree!” Slightly hysterical.

“Yep, I did notice it.” Hard to miss it, in fact. “Pro tip, sweets, I’d probably throw out all of the presents that have blood on them.”

She shuddered in his arms.

Chapter Four

“I’m dreaming of…a Christmas that doesn’t include a dead body. Is that really so much to ask? And why the heck was he under my Christmas tree?”

– True Blakely

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