Chapter Two
HOLLY
“T rish, you don’t understand. It’s like this town threw up Christmas.” I can’t help the disdain lacing my words as I look up and down the street.
Every pole is wrapped in ribbon and lights. Every tree is wrapped with multi-coloured bulbs and ornaments. Every window is painted. Every bench is covered in ribbon.
It’s as if I landed in the North Pole, not Candy Cane Creek, British Columbia.
Although, I should have figured it would be this bad by the name.
“So, get your car fixed and get out. What’s the problem?” my best friend, Trish, says on the other side of the phone, sounding more than mildly disinterested. I can picture her picking at her perfectly manicured nails, finding that more interesting than my current predicament.
“The mechanic said he can keep it in the shop, but they might not be able to get the parts in and fixed until after Christmas. I could be stuck here until the twenty-seventh.”
“That’s ridiculous. Who makes a client wait that long?”
“This holiday-crazed town,” I mutter under my breath. I readjust the grip on my suitcase as I wheel it behind me, wondering what I did to deserve to get the assignment in this Christmas snow globe of a town. The only thing that made it worse was having my car break down the minute I crossed the nauseating ‘Welcome to Candy Cane Creek’ sign. It even boasted a waving Santa decorated in striped candy.
Just my luck.
“Well, I guess you have to stick it out, then. It’s not like you had plans at home.”
While I don’t enjoy the holiday itself, the stark reminder that I would have been alone doesn’t help my mood. My heart sinks at the thought of the last time I wasn’t alone for the holidays. A time that was longer ago than I care to admit, but still burns a hole in my heart.
I place my phone between my shoulder and cheek, pulling up my falling purse when I’m jolted by someone walking into me and the quick assault of a sickly-sweet aroma mixed with hot liquid running down the front of my coat.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I bark. “Trish, I’ll call you back.”
My gaze lands on a dog wearing a Santa hat. Next to the annoyingly festive fur ball are a pair of black boots. I trail my eyes up to see dark jeans make way to an ugly Christmas sweater partially covered by a black leather jacket. I can’t help the anger that rushes out of me as I look down at my brand-new tan wool coat.
“Do you have any idea how much this coat costs?” I yank my hand off my luggage and pocket my phone with the other.
“I am so sorry. I’ll clean it for you. I mean, get it dry cleaned for you.” His voice is deep and gravelly. Not what I was expecting from someone wearing a knit sweater with elves climbing a ladder up a Christmas tree.
“I don’t think anywhere in this town would be able to clean a Massimo Dutti coat.” I frantically swipe at the coffee, hoping it doesn’t stain.
“I’ll take it to the next town over. There’s a great dry cleaner. Carl can clean anything. Even a Mario Dotti.”
“Massimo Dutti,” I correct.
After deciding that I’ve gotten off all the peppermint sugar monstrosity that I can, I look up into the most striking pair of blue eyes.
“Sure, that’s what I said.” The overly jolly Christmas elf with the nice eyes gives me a smirk. “I am really sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should be more careful when walking your dog.”
Nope, don’t let those blue eyes and that smirk fool you. He ruined your brand-new jacket. The one you saved for months for.
“Hey, now that’s a little unfair. You didn’t see me either.” Mr. Blue Eyes tilts his head as he looks at me. “I’m sorry, we got off on the wrong foot and this isn’t the impression of Candy Cane Creek I want you to have. I’m Rex Wellington.”
He holds out his hand to me, and all I can do is look at it as if it’s going to bite me. Rex Wellington? A name like that sounds like he should have a number like ‘the third’ behind it while living in a mansion in the city, not standing in the North Pole with Santa Paws’ helper at his feet. “How do you know I’m new here?”
“In this town? I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s not that big. Everyone knows when there’s someone new.” His hand is still reaching out to me, his eyebrow now raised.
I slip my hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine. I feel a rush pass over me at our connection.
Interesting.
“Holly Day,” I answer, watching to gauge his reaction. It usually goes one of two ways. They either don’t take in the ridiculousness of my first and last name together, or they think it’s the funniest thing in the world.
As a child, I thought it was the best name in the world. Now, not so much.
“Holly Day, huh?” he says with a smile, not letting go of my hand. “How fitting.”
“For?”
“For being here over Christmas.”
“Oh, there’s nothing fitting about that.” I take my hand back from him, once again grabbing my suitcase. “And I didn’t intend to be here over the holidays. I came to do my job and leave. Sadly, my car had other plans.”
“Your car?” he repeats, running his finger over his lower lip as he looks at me pensively.
“Yes, it decided to break down as soon as I crossed that…” I wave my hand, not knowing how to describe what I had seen. “Welcome sign.”
“Ah, yes, that sign is something.”
We stand for a moment, looking at each other. The silence is awkward, but not as much as the dripping sugar that is passed off as coffee is running down my expensive wool coat.
“So anyway, if you could point me toward the closest hotel, that would be great.”
“Oh, it’s right over there.” He points behind me. I turn to look at a large red brick building with an iron hanging sign that reads ‘The Mistletoe Inn.’
They really play up Christmas here.
“Thanks, I’ll just make my way over…”
“Oh, it’s full,” he says as I turn back to him. He hasn’t moved from his spot. His dog tilts his head as if judging me.
“Do you work there?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it’s full?” I raise my eyebrow as I ask him.
“It’s the week before Christmas.”
I look at him, confused, as if that should mean something to me.
“Right. You aren’t from here,” he continues. “The weeks leading up to Christmas are always busy with various events leading up to the big day, like the cocoa walk, pyjama shopping…”
“Okay, you’re going to need to elaborate on that last one.” I pinch my nose as I feel a headache coming on. I’m not sure what sort of Christmas dimension I’ve stumbled on, but I am not prepared.
“Everyone gets into their pyjamas, does some last-minute shopping, and then meets at the town square for hot cocoa and carols around the tree.”
I stare at him, not knowing what to say. My mind can’t wrap around the picture of adults and children wearing their pjs in public to do all of that. “Alright—where’s the next hotel?”
“There is no ‘next hotel.’ We just have the one.”
“Of course you do,” I spit out the words before taking a breath, trying to find some inner calm to deal with this situation. “Is there a bus to the next town? A taxi? Anything in this holiday-loving town stuck in time?”
“Not at this time of day.” He looks down at his dog and visibly sighs. “Look, I know this will sound ridiculous, but I have a guest house that’s free.”
I narrow my eyes at him, considering his offer. If someone offered this to me in the city, I’d go running the other way. “I don’t know…”
“I promise I’ll try my best not to spill anything else on you.”
I let out an audible sigh and look up to heaven as I try to figure out how I landed here.
“But I really will get that dry cleaned for you,” he continues. “If you don’t feel comfortable, I understand. I’m sure I can find someone else in town with a spare room or drive you half an hour to Hope.”
It is starting to get dark, and to be honest, the last thing I want to do is get back in a car and drive after coming all this way. Looking at the man in front of me, I don’t get any mass murderer vibes, only a strikingly handsome man in a Christmas-loving elf sort of way. My experiences of travelling through small towns, especially at this time of year, have shown me that people genuinely want to help one another. Even strangers.
I take one last look around the deserted street before my shoulders sag and I surrender to my circumstance. “Thank you. I would appreciate a place to stay.” I look up at his smiling face and feel my ice-cold heart start to thaw a little. “But just for tonight.”
“Just for tonight,” he says as he looks down at his dog. “Now, let’s go get you settled.”
He reaches behind me and takes my bag, rolling it behind him as he turns and walks down the street. “I can take care of my own luggage.”
“I know,” he says as he looks behind me, not stopping as he strolls down the street with his dog at his side.
“Then let me.” Every ounce of my independent, strong-willed city girl wants to yell and demand that I can do it myself. I force myself not to stomp my foot like a toddler as I rush to catch up with him.
He stops for a moment and turns to me. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you have to.” He looks at me for a moment before continuing. “I take it you aren’t used to having someone do things for you. Take care of you.”
Wow, if there was ever an understatement of the year, that would be it.
Thinking back, I can’t remember a time where I didn’t have to do things on my own. Where I had someone that would carry my luggage for me, make me a cup of tea, or even open a door for me.
Not even with Josh.
“That’s what I thought.” Rex turns and continues to stroll down the sidewalk.
I watch for a moment as this strange, but handsome, man walks away with my possessions, and I can’t help but feel—content. As if it is perfectly normal.
As I follow them down the road, I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a big mistake or stumbling onto something that might work in my favour.