A Heron's Landing Novella: Hold Me Close
highlight_author
Iris Morland
highlight_reads
60,9K
highlight_chapters
7
Chapter 1
When Officer Matthew Haldon saw the flash of orange-red in his rearview mirror, he first thought it was a fox running about in this blizzard. When he peered more closely, he realized it wasn’t a fox: it was a person. A person most decidedly stranded in a ditch on the side of the road.
Matt had been on the police force for five years now, four of those here in the tiny Missouri town of Heron’s Landing. At the moment, he wanted to get home safely, put his feet up, and maybe drink some spiked cider. Sighing, he knew that wasn’t going to be happening any time soon. He slowly did a U-turn, the snow falling so hard that you couldn’t see more than foot in front of you. Living in a place like Heron’s Landing made driving in the snow both a blessing and a curse: a blessing, because you were often alone on the road; a curse, because you were often alone on the road.
After what seemed like an hour, he finally got to the car and the person trying to dig themselves out. He turned on his lights so no poor soul would run into him, and he tromped into the ditch.
“Hello!” he called out. “Are you all right?”
A head popped up from the other side, with that flash of orange-red again. Then, to his astonishment, the person turned out to be a woman, and not only a woman, but a gorgeous, red-haired woman who also wasn’t wearing a coat.
So not only was she beautiful, she was crazy.
“Ma’am, do you have a coat? You’ll freeze to death.”
The woman waded through the snow, laughing. “I forgot my coat! Can you believe that? I packed everything but my coat.” She brushed snow off of her long-sleeved t-shirt and shrugged. “I’m more concerned about my flat tire, though.”
Matt took in the woman, his chest constricting despite himself. She was rosy-cheeked, with the fullest lips he’d ever seen. She didn’t seem the least bit dismayed regarding her situation.
So, yes, a high probability she was crazy.
“Let me drive you somewhere,” he offered. “It’s snowing too hard to put on a spare. Do you live around here?” Matt knew everyone in Heron’s Landing, and this woman was definitely not someone he’d ever seen before.
The woman’s initial good cheer faded. She bit her lip. “I was on my way to Kansas City. I don’t know anyone around here. Is there a hotel or something close by?”
Matt considered. He could drive back to town—some ten miles, in a blizzard—or he could be a good Samaritan and let this woman stay with him in his house that was only a mile away.
You just want to spend more time with her, his mind reasoned, but he told his mind to shut up.
“The closest hotel is ten miles from here.” The woman’s shoulders slumped, and without considering it further, he added, “But you’re welcome to stay with me. Until the snow stops. Then we can get a tow truck out here to get your car and get you back on the road.”
The woman considered, her eyes narrowed. She walked toward him. “How do I know you aren’t some serial killer?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m a police officer, ma’am.”
“That doesn’t matter. You could be faking being an officer just to lure unsuspecting women to your house.”
“In a blizzard? That seems like a lot of work to me.”
She blinked away the snowflakes caught on her lashes, and then her face broke into a smile that hit Matt right in the gut.
“Okay, I’ll take your offer.” She thrust out a hand, and he took it. “I’m Holly, by the way. You are?”
“Matt. Officer Matt Haldon.”
“Great. Now if you could just help me get my suitcase out from underneath all of this crap…”
After wrestling with more “crap” than he could’ve thought could be stuffed into one woman’s trunk, Matt drove Holly back to his place. She shivered, and he turned up the heat until he was sweating underneath his heavy coat. But she sighed in pleasure, which went straight to his groin.
Down, boy. She’s your guest. Nothing more.
Matt had broken up with his girlfriend over a year ago, and he hadn’t dated much since. It didn’t help that there was a dearth of eligible women here in Heron’s Landing. He wasn’t much for hook-ups, either, so he’d remained celibate for the past twelve months.
That celibacy came to bite him in the ass right now. He’d taken one look at Holly and his body had practically jumped at her. If he weren’t so annoyed with himself, he’d laugh at how predictable he was.
Holly rubbed her arms.
“Are you still cold?” he asked.
“I’m okay. I still can’t believe I forgot my coat. Then again, I’m not used to winters like this.”
“Where are you from?”
She hesitated, and he wondered what she was running from. A bad relationship? Money troubles?
Finally, she replied, “Louisiana. We don’t get much snow down there.”
Now that he listened more closely, her accent had a slight Southern twang to it, although it was subtle. She must’ve lived there only for a short time, as she sounded more Midwestern overall.
“So you decided to go on a road trip three days before Christmas but forgot to bring a coat?”
She nodded. “It was…sudden. I was distracted.”
“I guess you aren’t driving home for Christmas dinner?”
“Not exactly.”
They fell silent. Matt turned on the radio, and Christmas music filled the patrol car. His own family lived in Illinois, and his current work schedule hadn’t allowed him to go home. Thus, he was spending Christmas alone. He’d told himself he didn’t care, but if he were being honest, he was rather depressed about it. It was the first Christmas without Melanie, the first time they wouldn’t cook dinner together and open presents underneath the tree.
After driving very slowly through the blinding snow, Matt turned down the lane to get to his house, a two-story cabin that he’d built three years ago with Melanie in mind. Now it just reminded him of his ex-girlfriend with every curtain, every piece of furniture. When they’d broken up, Melanie had told him that she didn’t want to live in this hell hole anymore—her words, not his.
I can’t do this anymore, she’d said, like he’d forced her to live with him and love him. I’m sorry, but I can’t.
He shook off the memories as he helped Holly with her luggage. Opening the door, he flipped on the hall light to reveal two excited dogs barking and dancing excitedly in front of them.
Matt crouched in front of the canines. “This is Arya, and this is Sansa.”
The two mutts—he thought they were part lab, part setter, and part who knew what—wagged their tails so hard they were in danger of falling over.
Holly leaned down to pet Arya, who snuffled. “Game of Thrones fan?”
“Yeah. At least, I was. The names were my ex’s idea.”
At the mention of Melanie, they both fell silent, and Matt silently cursed himself. Way to go. How about you share all of your dirty laundry before she even sits down?
“I think I’m going to take a shower to warm up,” Holly said.
Matt jumped up, guilt assailing him. Here she was, freezing and tired, and he was talking about his ex-girlfriend. “Of course. Let me show you to your room. Arya, Sansa, go lie down.”
After showing Holly to her room and the adjoining bathroom, Matt went downstairs to stare inside his fridge. Beer, shredded cheese, two eggs, and an almost empty half-gallon of milk. He went to the pantry, and he found a bag of rice that was probably older than this house and not much else. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone grocery shopping. He’d gotten take-out or gone to the one bar in Heron’s Landing as opposed to cooking at home for the most part since he’d broken up with Melanie, and now he cursed himself for being such a lazy bachelor. He couldn’t very well feed Holly old rice and beer, now could he?
All thoughts of food fled when Holly came downstairs, her hair wrapped in a towel and wearing some fancy robe over what he assumed was a nightgown. She looked fresh and clean, her cheeks scrubbed until they were rosy, and she smelled like flowers.
She glanced down at her attire and smiled at his expression. “I really hate wearing real clothes around the house,” she explained. “And we’re snowed in, so why keep my jeans on? Plus, I hate wearing a bra.” She scrunched her nose—her adorable, pert little nose—and Matt almost dropped the beer he’d just grabbed from the fridge.
He did not need to think about Holly not wearing a bra. Did she want to kill him? She was going to kill him.
He scrabbled around in the drawer for a bottle opener, trying to banish the thought of what Holly looked like without a bra on—or anything at all.
After finally finding the opener and taking a slug of beer, he said apologetically, “I don’t have much food.”
She opened his fridge and then laughed. “Do you even eat?” She shook a bag of what he thought was maybe broccoli at him. “Look at this! You’re such a guy.”
“I’m not much for cooking, I guess.”
“I can see that.” She pulled out cheese, butter, and then snagged the loaf of bread from the counter. “Where’s your skillet? Oh, and do you have mayo? Wait, of course you do. Mmm, let me cut some of these veggies up, and I’ll make us some grilled cheeses you’ll never forget.”
Holly shooed him from the kitchen, rather like a wife would, and Matt sat down in the living room, hearing her hum to herself as she cooked. He stared at the snow falling outside, his heart beating fast, and he wondered if this was all a dream. How had he ended up with this gorgeous, lovely woman in his house? And for the night?
He drank his beer, tipping it back until he’d finished it in only a few gulps.
“Here we go.” Holly stepped into the living room, Sansa and Arya right next to her, and placed the plates on the table in front of the couch. “Eat up. I’m starving.”
Matt dug into the cheesy goodness, practically moaning at how she’d managed to make the cheese both crispy and gooey. He hadn’t had a grilled cheese since he was a kid.
“This is amazing.” He glanced at the sandwich again. “I didn’t even know I had red onion in the fridge. Wait, is this Gouda? How the hell did you find Gouda around here?”
“I have special powers. What do you eat every night, though, pizza? Wings?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes pizza and wings.”
“Well then, aren’t you glad I showed up to get your butt in gear.” She took a big bite of sandwich and made a little sound in the back of her throat, which only drove Matt even crazier.
When they’d finished eating, and Matt had given a bite each to the dogs who now rested at their feet, he asked, “Why were you headed to Kansas City?”
Holly seemed to close in on herself, and he regretted the question immediately. She shrugged, taking off the towel and letting her red hair fall down to her shoulders. She began to braid it with absentminded strokes.
“I just needed to get away, that’s all,” she finally said.
“I get that. Sometimes this town gets to be too much, even though it’s not even 300 people. My family lives in Illinois, but I couldn’t get there this year. So it’s just me and the dogs for Christmas.”
He knew he was rambling, but it was better than feeling Holly’s silence and dismay. He watched as she braided her hair, her face contemplative. When she realized she didn’t have something to tie off the braid, she flung it over her shoulder and turned to him.
“Let’s not talk about me. What about you?” She waited in expectation.
About him? He was nobody. He was a cop in a small town doing his job. But she was waiting, so he cleared his throat and replied, “I’ve been a cop for five years. I grew up in Illinois. I hate peas.”
She frowned. “Matt. Come on, tell me…” She thought a moment. “Tell me what you wanted to be when you grew up.”
That was easy. “A police officer.”
“Seriously? Okay, then, where all have you traveled?”
“Illinois, Missouri, Kansas. I went to Iowa once for a basketball tournament in high school. That’s it.” He couldn’t help but smile at her expression. “I’m a boring person, I’m afraid.”
“Nobody’s boring. You just say that. For instance, my grandma never traveled outside of her town until she was thirty, but she was the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. She was married three times by the time she was thirty-five, and we’re pretty sure my uncle Ted’s father is the milkman who swore he had an affair with granny off and on for years. Granny also could shoot a target dead-on when it was raining and she had only one eye open.”
“Impressive.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
He couldn’t help it: he touched a strand of her hair that had fallen from her makeshift braid. “No, I’ve just never met anyone like you before.”
“What, you’ve never met a woman who got stranded in a blizzard?”
“No, I’ve never met one who was so…alive.” And it was true: they’d only met hours ago, and yet he’d felt a connection with her the first time she’d smiled. Everything about her radiated vitality. Holly could take on the world and laugh the entire time.
She didn’t say anything, though. Her green eyes widened, and he wanted to kiss the freckles dotted across her cheeks.
As if sensing the tension in the room, Arya woofed at their feet, which effectively ended the moment.
“Um, you want a beer?” Matt stood up, taking their plates with him into the kitchen. At the sink, he almost stuck his head under the cold water to get himself to calm down.
Holly was staying with him because she had nowhere else to go. He wasn’t going to take advantage of that fact. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t had sex in forever. It didn’t matter that she was beautiful and sweet and her hair was like a flame.
“I’ll just get a glass of water,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.
He jumped, almost dropping the plate in his hand. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice, but grabbed a glass from the cabinet like she’d lived here for ages.
Matt was about to tell her he was going to sleep—even though it was only seven o’clock—when the lights flickered and died, plunging the house into darkness.
