Page 5 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

Wren pointed her finger at Barret smugly. “And that’s why I don’t have a romantic partner. I like things my way.”

“Well,” Barret said, flashing her a sheepish grin that made her instantly suspicious, “if you change your mind on that front, I’ve had several inquiries about you.”

Wren choked on the hunk of maple bar she’d just bitten off. “From who?”

“Guys at the gym. Kiss My Donut. Clive Ewan asked for you instead of me when I picked him up from the Wolf’s Den last night. Apparently, you’re prettier.” Barret turned toward the glass window with his hand on his chin, studying his reflection. “I don’t see it.”

She snorted. Barret’s delicate features, slim nose, and full lips were part of his youthful face, whereas Wren had started up a skin care regimen when she turned thirty just to keep her skin from turning to leather like her dad’s had. Wren had no idea what her mom looked like now. Her dad put away all the pictures of her when she left, and Wren didn’t care enough to look her up on social media.

Wren’s jaw tightened. She didn’t like thinking about her mother, so her thoughts circled back to Barret’s offer to set her up. Dating and relationships were the last thing on her mind, but unfortunately, the one thing she wanted did require the participation of a man. Nothing like getting shot to make you start questioning your whole life’s purpose and thinking about your biological clock.

Since her return to Mistletoe, men hadn’t been shy about asking her out, but they were barking up the wrong tree. Love was a trap that destroyed lives, and there was no way she was falling into it again.

“I wouldn’t trust Clive Ewan’s beer goggles,” Wren teased. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Well, thank you very much.” He pursed his lips, moving his face back and forth like a male model. “Also, on the plus side, I didn’t get punched in the face, so that is a win in my book.”

“Ah, ‘The Book of Fun Facts and Opinions According to Barret’!” Wren put the last of the maple bar in her mouth and clapped.

“Hey now, don’t mock ‘The book of Barret.’ It’s full of fun factoids, like how the chief comes in early to talk about what to expect during the holidays.”

That made sense. Although Wren had been a decorated officer since she was twenty-one, this was her first year serving the Mistletoe community, and while she didn’t expect massive drug busts and murders, it was always good to be prepared. Especially with the holiday festivities and how many tourists came through.

Barret had been a part of Mistletoe’s finest for three years, and while there were five other veteran officers on staff, Barret and the chief were the only ones she cared to know. One of the guys had been her older brother’s friend since high school, and he was a bigger tool now than he had been then.

The back door opened, and Chief Monroe stepped through the doors, looking sharp in his uniform, his close-cropped gray hair standing out against his dark skin. He was a big man, well over six feet, and had lived his whole life in Mistletoe. His dad had been a prominent figure in the community, a member of the school board, and the chief spoke about the man with reverence.

Wren wasn’t one to sing the praises of anyone, least of all her dad, who had been a county sheriff. God love the man, but he was a hardheaded son of a bitch, and Wren had no plans to be anything like him.

Especially when she had a child of her own.

“Good morning. Are we ready for another fine day protecting and serving?” Chief greeted Duke with a pat on the head. Duke leaned into the affection so hard he almost fell over.

Wren shot the chief a wry smile. “Yes, sir.”

“Ah, Wren, how you’ve grown,” Chief said, his dark eyes twinkling. “Six weeks ago, you would have looked at me with disgust for my cheery demeanor.”

“Only because I am not a morning person, sir, and prefer to be sleeping when the hideous light of the day star is upon us.”

“Only it’s not out yet.” The chief picked up the lemon-filled glazed from the box and smirked. “And when she does come out, I’m not sure how much sun we’ll have today. Weatherman called for snow.”

Barret laughed. “When are these guys going to learn that Idaho does what she wants and there is no guessing what’s going to happen on any given day until you look up at the sky and say, ‘Hey, it’s snowing.’”

Wren waved what remained of her second donut between the two of them. “Are we really gonna stand around and bullshit about the weather?”

“No, we are not.” Chief turned to Barret. “How were patrols last night?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Barret said.

Chief shook his head. “Barret, you don’t have to prove you have the mettle to do this job. I’ve seen it. I just want to know how it went.”

“It went fine.”

Chief nodded, turning his attention to Wren. “And you? Still pissed at me for pulling you off nights?”

“Absolutely not. That would be unprofessional.”

He patted her shoulder. “I appreciate it, and I’m sure Johnson does, too. Being a new dad is hard enough, but also being on opposite schedules from your wife?” Chief shook his head. “I was lucky that we could afford for my wife to stay home with our kids and then go back to teaching when they were in school.”