Page 3 of A Mistletoe Mix Up
“Yes, ma’am.” I salute her, then turn to leave. “Oh, and Gramps sends his love. He says you’re due for another dinner.”
“I’ll never turn down his lasagna!” She takes another bite of the pancakes and hums.
I step back outside, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Tandy Vaughn, my best friend, never fails to brighten my day.
But as soon as I’m back in my truck, I think about the review again. Without Tandy to distract me, my anxiety creeps back in.
It’s my one-year evaluation with the department—a standard check-in and one I’ve done before at my old department in the city, but it feels like so much more. If I’m not a good fit here, maybe it’s time I go back to the city. The thought of leaving, though, doesn’t sit right. I hope I’ve done enough to stay.
Chapter Two
Tandy
“Tandy, did we get the decorations out from storage yet?” Jane comes around the corner, startling me.
“Jane, don’t you remember what happens when I get scared? I tend to throw things.”
I grin, thinking back to that fateful day I met Grayson.
Last year, Oakridge Hollow had a string of burglaries. They’d break in at night, steal small items and cash, but no one was ever hurt. I had just arrived here, but everyone said it was out of the ordinary—it’s usually a quiet town. One night, the bookstore was broken into. Luckily, no one was here, and the shop only suffered minor damage, but it was traumatic. Think of that! The place where I work was targeted.
Jane had only recently purchased the store and put a lot of effort into revamping it, only for it to get broken into. Tragic. Of course, Jane, being Jane, took it in stride and made sweet lemonade out of a sour lemon.
The day after the break-in, I came in to help Jane assess the damage. I was hunched over, looking through an aisle of books to see if anything was stolen, when a dark figure appeared in my peripheral vision. The nearest thing I had to a weapon was a hardcover copy ofWuthering Heights, and in a moment of panic, I launched it straight at the figure. When I actually looked at the person, he was in a police uniform with his hands covering his face. The book smacked him right in the chest.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” I stammered, rushing over to him. “Are you okay?”
He lowered his hands, revealing the bluest pair of eyes I’d ever seen.
“You’ve got a good arm, Bookworm.” He chuckled. “Officer Grayson Sanders, at your service,” he said, extending a hand toward me, his mouth twitching as if he was fighting back laughter.
I shook his hand. “Tandy. Sorry about the book. I thought you might have been the bad guy coming back again.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been hit with far worse things during my career. A classic novel is a new one, though. Nice to meet you, Tandy. I just have a few questions about the break-in.”
And that was how our friendship started. Grayson Sanders, the new-to-town cop, and Tandy Vaughn, the traveling nomad, became best friends. He was unlike anyone I’d ever met. He had a calming presence about him, sweet and gentle, and was witty too. I never planned on staying here, but then I met Grayson.
Jane breaks into my thoughts with a laugh. She raises her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I come in peace.”
“Just make some noise or something next time.”
“You’re always in your head. I don’t think that’ll make a difference.”
I stick my tongue out at her, and Jane laughs. “The decorations are in the back. I’m finishing putting this stack back on the shelves, then I’m going to start decorating the kids’ area.”
“Nonna and my mom are coming in to help decorate around lunchtime. Dee and Erin are coming in tomorrow to help with stock. So we should be able to hammer it all out pretty quickly. Oh! And Andrew’s coming by after work today.”
“Perfect. Speaking of Andrew, how are things going with you two?”
Her cheeks grow rosy, and a smile lifts on her lips. “Things are going splendidly, Tandy. We’re coming up on a year soon. You know, you should really give it a shot.”
“What? Love?” I scoff and roll my eyes, stuffing down the weird feeling bubbling in my chest.
What is that feeling?
Longing?
Can’t be.
