Page 3 of Holding Holly
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HOLLY
The winter breeze whips my hair into my face, so I shove it more firmly under my hat. Maybe I should have waited for James to arrive before coming outside. But since he’s doing me a huge favor, I don’t want to hold him up for even a second.
What kind of guy volunteers to spend several hours with a total stranger? Although Maggie did say that he’s really sweet. And knowing her, she laughingly bullied him into it.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see I’ve missed a call from James.Shoot. Before I can listen to the voicemail, a big black pickup pulls up in front of me, and James gives me a friendly wave from behind the wheel before jumping out.
The man is seriously handsome. Maggie showed me a family photo, but it didn’t do him any justice whatsoever. It’s not just the rich brown eyes, short, tidy beard, and classic rugged profile. It’s his…presence. There’s something electrifying about him.
As he strides toward me, I’m reminded of one other important point: he’s at least six foot three, broad shouldered, and…well, takes up a lot of space, put it that way. I’m pretty fine-boned already, but James makes me feel positively tiny.
“Ready to go?” His smile is pure sunshine. Not the stereotypical grumpy mountain man loner type at all.
“Yes, thank you.” He’s already placing my suitcase and duffle bag carefully into the back seat. “Oh, you can just throw those into the truck bed?—”
“No way. If we hit snow, your stuff will get soaked. There’s plenty of room back here.” He offers his hand to help me up the big step and makes sure I’m buckled in safely.
“What was your voicemail about?” I ask as soon as he gets in. “I didn’t have a chance to listen.”
He points to two large cups in the holders between us. “Cream and sugar are in the bag so you can doctor it up any way you like. But did you want hazelnut or chocolate peppermint coffee?”
That’s so thoughtful. “Oh – I’m fine with either.”
He fixes me with a serious look. “Holly. This is holiday coffee from the semi-legendary Happy Home Bakery. I really like both. Please, pick your favorite.”
“Thanks.” I choose the hazelnut and add some cream before he pulls out into the road.
“Perfect. I like the peppermint one better.”
He laughs at my open-mouthed gasp. “Maggie said you’re an honest guy. Now I know you’re nothing but a liar.”
His rich brown eyes flick to me for just a second before he merges onto the highway. “Not a liar. I gently coax shy people into admitting the truth, how’s that?”
“Fair enough.” After a few sips, I rummage in my massive shoulder bag for a plastic container. “I made these in case we were driving in the morning. Breakfast cookies.”
“I will have breakfast any time of day,” he chuckles, reaching out as I place one in his hand. “Wow, these are thick.”
“Yeah. Oatmeal cookie batter but in muffin trays, so they rise straight up.”
“Cookie muffins? Cookuffins?” He takes a bite, then makes an appreciativemmmsound. After he swallows, I’m delighted to see that he’s legit beaming. “These are spectacular! Thank you.”
“Maggie said you really love eating. Are you one of those fancy foodie types?”
James shrugs one of his thick shoulders in my direction. “I’ve always loved food. Doesn’t have to be fancy. The entire ritual of eating, bringing people together to share sustenance.” His eyes flick to me with a grin. “Of course, stolen food always tastes the best. When I’m making my rounds, I occasionallyliberatea few fries or a cookie from friends. A bit of unexpected flavor at a random time of the day is a nice surprise for the palate, don’t you think?”
“You must work out a lot if you’re eating all the time.”
“I burn it off walking around three hours a day.”
“Holy. Do you really need to patrol the streets constantly?”
His rich chuckle makes the most of his deep register. “It’s part of the small-town vibe. People like to think I’m everywhere. It adds to the atmosphere, knowing the local cop is nearby for any problem that might come up. Plus, it keeps me close to any fries that need liberating.”
“How many problems are there in a day?”
“Almost none,” he grins proudly. “But I’m there if there is.” He takes another bite, nodding. “Oh yeah. Nutmeg and clove. Perfect with oatmeal. And pear juice instead of sugar to sweeten them. Good call.”