I stick out my hand. “I’m Andrew Harrington. And you are?”
“Jane Pearson.” She shakes my hand. “I guess I can try the resort down the road.”
I glance behind her. The snow is coming down in blankets. I can’t send her out in that in good conscience.
“I don’t think either of us should go out in that tonight.” I blink, bringing Jane a little more into focus.Her hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head with glasses framing her face. Her coat is snug up to her chin. “Listen,” I pull my badge out to prove to her my identity, “I’m a detective. I think it’s best you stay here for the night, and we’ll sort it out in the morning.”
I extend my badge to hopefully assuage any fears Jane might have about sharing this home overnight. She bites her bottom lip, and I can tell that she is teetering on acceptance of our situation. She glances over her shoulder one last time at the snow and then steps inside to close the door.
“We need to keep trying to reach the owner,” she says finally.
“Understood. There’s two bedrooms. I can show you where you can settle in.”
“Thanks.” She flashes an adorable smile.
“First, a little tour.” I motion for her to follow.
We walk through the entryway to the living room. The back wall is lined with floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of an open field filled with snow-covered pine trees. To the left is a wood-burning fireplace with a navy blue L-shaped couch. To the right, there is the open-concept kitchen with a large island perfect for cooking. The entire space is decorated with rustic Christmas decorations and a fake tree tucked in the corner between the two rooms.
“The hall off the living room leads to my bedroom, and that one,” I point to the one next to the kitchen, “leads to a small office and what will be your bedroom.”
She walks around the couch, her hand grazing over the plush fabric, and stops in front of the wall of windows. The sun is barely peeking through the bottom of the trees, and the sky is almost dark now.
“It sure is beautiful here.”
“I’m sure it is.” I rapidly blink, trying to see what she does.
She turns to look at me. “I’m sorry for the pepper spray. Better safe than sorry, right?”
“In my line of work, I’ve seen…” My mind wanders to my last case, but I quickly shake my head and dismiss the thought. “It’s not the first time I’ve been pepper sprayed,” I reassure her before walking to the kitchen. “I was about to cook dinner when you arrived. Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” she responds with a sigh, placing a hand on her stomach.
“I’ll get to cooking then.”
“Oh! I have groceries in the car. I completely forgot about them, given the…circumstances.”
I chuckle. “I’ll help you bring them in.”
We head out into the cold, the swirling snowflakes sparkling in the dim porch light. Jane quickly unlocks hercar, her face flushed against the chill of the wind. She pops the trunk and reveals a stash of brown paper bags filled to the brim. I grab a couple, feeling how heavy they are, before following her back into the warmth.
Once we’ve brought all her groceries to the kitchen, Jane removes her boots and coat, revealing a green sweater tucked into jeans that hug her curves just right. I, now, notice her expressive green eyes and freckles that dance across her nose.
At thirty-two, I’ve seen many beautiful women, but Jane…she’s a simple beauty. She wears minimal makeup and dainty jewelry. Her outfit isn’t flashy, not like the girls from the city.
Jane offers a small smile to me. That’s when I realize I’ve been staring at her, doing nothing but standing here.Way to make her feel at ease being in a house with a stranger.
“I’m going to put these away and start on dinner while you get settled in.”
She nods then grabs her suitcase by the front door and wheels it down the hall.
As I put her groceries away and begin to pull supplies out of the fridge to make dinner, my mind is still grappling with the unexpected development. Never in a million years would I have imagined sharing my quiet and much-needed retreat with a sassy, pepper spray-wielding stranger.
The burning sensation had started to retreat, but chopping this onion only worsens it. Jane walks from the hallway and stands opposite me at the kitchen island.
“Need some help?”
“You could take over this onion before I go completely blind,” I joke, grateful for her assistance.
