Page 4 of A Very Merry Mistake

I glance at the clock on the display and then turn my attention back to her.

“Trust me, I have other places I’d rather be, too,” I mutter. I wanted to get home before the rain started, but I’ve now wasted too much time. I’m pretty much fucked.

“Since you’re marchin’ to Merryville, hop in, because I’m also headin’ there now.” I tap the side of my truck, hoping she’ll read the Jolly’s Christmas Tree Farm logo and notice the town’s name in a block print across the bottom. I’m not some weirdo trying to pick up a random woman from the side of the road.

“Thought you should also know there ain’t nobody else out right now. I’m your last resort, so come on.” I pat the metal of the door again.

“Or what? Will you throw me over your shoulder and force me?”

All I can do is laugh. She’s feisty. Gotta give her that. Merryville is always full of tourists around this time, but I don’t think I’ve met one as stubborn as her.

Logic can’t win. That much is obvious.

I clear my throat, hoping to snag her gaze, even if only for a split second. I’m growing desperate. The dark clouds are rolling in, and I’m obviously taking this more seriously than she is.

“Ma’am. I don’t think you realize you’re ’bout ten miles outside the city limits.”

She glares at me, confidence oozing off her. “Ten miles? I’m certain it’s closer than that.”

I raise my brows. “Okay, I might be off by a mile, but why would I lie about that? It’s a long walk in the cold. If you stay at the current pace you’re hikin’, you’ll arrive in three hours.”

She tries to walk faster, but her fancy, heeled boots slip on the rutted pavement and she slows down again.

“So would ya like a ride or not?”

She looks at me, narrowing her eyes like she’s trying to read my mind. “You could be a murderer.”

I’m so startled a laugh flies out before I can stop it. “Come on now, Susan. I wouldn’t harm a fly.”

“Stop calling me that. And also, that’s what someone who buries bodies in their backyard would say to build trust. You wouldn’t want to accidentally give away your true identity to the single woman who broke down on the side of the road, would you? I won’t be a statistic.”

“Darlin’, you look like the type of woman that if you went missin’, someone would be quickly searchin’ for your whereabouts. I don’t need that kind of trouble in my life, and I much prefer stayin’ off the radar. Attention ain’t my thang. Anyway, you got a raincoat in that big ol’ suitcase of yours? ’Cause you’re gonna need it when it starts pourin’ in ’bout twenty minutes.”

She stops walking and places her hand on her hip. “Is that all?”

“I guess so. You seem real damn determined, so I’ll just leave you to it. Good luck. See ya ’round town. Oh, and if no one has told you yet, Merry Christmas.”

I place the truck in drive and creep forward, then make a U-turn to head back to town. As I pass her the second time, I shake my head. But when my gaze flicks to the rearview mirror one last time, I see her standing in the road, waving her arms in the air.

I sigh and put the truck in park.

Stubborn Susan prances toward the truck and cracks open the passenger door.

I lift my brows at her, unamused.

“Okay, okay. I would greatly appreciate a ride to Merryville if it’s not an inconvenience.”

My mouth slightly parts. “It’s not a problem at all. But it would’ve been nice if you’d have just said that ten minutes ago.”

“Apologies.” She rushes back to her suitcase.

As she struggles to lift it, I get out and help her, rolling it back to the truck and dropping down the gate so I can throw her bag in in back.

“Oh my God.” She stares at the wooden handles and blades in the truck’s bed. “Are you an ax murderer?”

I snort. “If you had to compare me to anything, I’d say I’m more like a lumberjack, but only durin’ the winter months, when it’s wood-choppin’ and Christmas tree-shoppin’ season.”

She studies me as if she’s memorizing my features. Her gaze moves down to my lips, then back up again, as I open the door for her.

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