Page 1 of Christmas With My Mountain Man Landlord
CHAPTER ONE
TOM
The box of Christmas decorations stares at me from the corner of my office like it's judging my life choices. I've been avoiding it all week. December first came and went. Now we're crawling toward the middle of the month, and my Sheriff's station still looks like any other day of the year.
"Sheriff, you want me to put these up?" Deputy Rodriguez gestures toward the sad cardboard container. "My shift's ending, but I can stay."
"Leave it." I look back down at the paperwork covering my desk. "I'll get to it."
Rodriguez hesitates, clearly wanting to say more but knowing better.Smart kid.Been with the department two years now and has finally learned when to keep his mouth shut around me.
"Your daughter called again." He places a yellow message slip on top of my arrest report. "Third time today."
I grunt in acknowledgment. Savannah's been relentless lately, especially since she married that Reeves boy. Colt. Stillcan't believe my daughter married a former troublemaker, but I'm trying. For her sake.
"She said it's about Christmas dinner," Rodriguez adds, lingering by the door. "Said to remind you it's at their place this year."
"Got it." I don't look up.
When the door finally closes behind him, I release a long breath and reach for the message slip. Christmas dinner. Another tradition I'd gladly skip if Savannah would let me. Sixteen years of forcing holiday cheer for my daughter's sake has left me empty. Going through motions that mean nothing except pain.
My computer pings with a calendar reminder: 4:30 appointment with Mason.Perfect.Another thing I'd rather avoid today. I grab my jacket and keys, making sure no one sees me heading out the back. Nobody in Whisper Vale needs to know their sheriff is seeing a therapist.
Especially not during the holidays.
The drive to Mason's office on the outskirts of town takes me past storefronts already dressed in green and red. Twinkling lights hang from every lamppost. A banner across Main Street announces the annual Christmas tree lighting this weekend. The whole town seems determined to force holiday cheer down everyone's throat.
Mason's office sits above the old bookstore, accessible by a side staircase that offers some privacy. Another reason I picked him. That and he's actually good at his job, though I'll never admit that to his face.
"You're late," he says when I walk in, not bothering to look up from his notepad.
"Had paperwork." I drop into the leather armchair across from him, the one that's starting to form to my body after months of weekly sessions.
"The same paperwork as last week? And the week before?" Mason finally meets my eyes, his expression neutral but challenging.
I grunt. "Different paperwork. Same job."
"How are you feeling about the holidays approaching?"
I resist the urge to get up and walk out. This is why I hate therapy. No small talk. No easing in. Just right for the jugular.
"Same as always," I say flatly. "It's just another day on the calendar."
Mason makes a note. "Savannah mentioned you haven't put up any decorations at home yet."
"You talking to my daughter about me now?" My voice hardens. "Thought there were rules about that sort of thing."
"She mentioned it in passing when I saw her at The Grind." He sets down his pen. "She's worried about you, Tom. Says you're working more than usual lately."
"Crime doesn't take a holiday."
"Neither do you."
We sit in silence for a minute. That's another thing I've come to appreciate about Mason. He doesn't feel the need to fill every quiet moment with chatter.
"Look," I finally say, "Christmas was Caroline's thing. After she left, I kept it up for Savannah's sake. Now she's married, building her own traditions. Maybe it's time I just... opt out."
"Is that what you want?" Mason asks. "To opt out of Christmas?"
