A Christmas Getaway Read online

  A Christmas Getaway

  Jen Talty

  Contents

  A Note from Jen Talty

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Also by Jen Talty

  About the Author

  COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Jen Talty

  PUBLISHED BY JUPITER PRESS

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author or Jupiter press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Publishing History

  Originally published in the Anthology collection: LOVE, CHRISTMAS 2

  Praise for Jen Talty

  "I positively loved In Two Weeks, and highly recommend it. The writing is wonderful, the story is fantastic, and the characters will keep you coming back for more. I can't wait to get my hands on future installments of the NYS Troopers series." Long and Short Reviews

  "In Two Weeks hooks the reader from page one. This is a fast paced story where the development of the romance grabs you emotionally and the suspense keeps you sitting on the edge of your chair. Great characters, great writing, and a believable plot that can be a warning to all of us." Desiree Holt, USA Today Bestseller

  "Dark Water delivers an engaging portrait of wounded hearts as the memorable characters take you on a healing journey of love. A mysterious death brings danger and intrigue into the drama, while sultry passions brew into a believable plot that melts the reader's heart. Jen Talty pens an entertaining romance that grips the heart as the colorful and dangerous story unfolds into a chilling ending." Night Owl Reviews

  "This is not the typical love story, nor is it the typical mystery. The characters are well rounded and interesting." You Gotta Read Reviews

  "Deadly Secrets is the best of romance and suspense in one hot read!" NYT Bestselling Author Jennifer Probst

  "A charming setting and a steamy couple heat up the pages in an suspenseful story I couldn't put down!" NY Times and USA today Bestselling Author Donna Grant

  "Murder in Paradise Bay is a fast-paced romantic thriller with plenty of twists and turns to keep you guessing until the end. You won't want to miss this one..." USA Today bestselling author Janice Maynard

  A Note from Jen Talty

  A Christmas Getaway was originally published in a collection of novellas titled: Love, Christmas 2. The Anthology hit the USA Today Bestseller list at #116.

  This story is near and dear to my heart as it was inspired by my best friend, Deborah Diez, and her family. She’s the strongest woman I know.

  I hope you all enjoy!

  Sign up for my Newsletter (https://dl.bookfunnel.com/6atcf7g1be) where I often give away free books before publication.

  Join my private Facebook group (https://www.facebook.com/groups/191706547909047/) where she posts exclusive excerpts and discuss all things murder and love!

  Never miss a new release. Follow me on Amazon:amazon.com/author/jentalty

  And on Bookbub: bookbub.com/authors/jen-talty

  To Hollie Donner, a lover of books, thank you!

  1

  Ryder Jameson tossed his rucksack on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Flicking on the light, he turned and stared at the family room in the quaint cabin at the base of Killington Peak. A dark-blue sofa sat proudly under a large picture window. The light on the porch showed off the heavy snowflakes that stuck to the ground like tar. No doubt, the streets would soon be closed, which made this trip even better.

  The less people Ryder had to face, the easier it would be to fill his days with die-hard adrenaline and his nights with a good old bottle of Jack.

  Or maybe two.

  His stomach sloshed and twisted at the thought. He’d never been much of a drinker, and his late wife would give him a good old-fashioned waggle of her finger while her other hand was firmly planted on her round hip.

  But she wasn’t here anymore.

  And he wanted to, for a brief moment, he wanted to drowned all the images that had been engraved in his memory in a haze of whiskey.

  He ran a hand down the stubble that had grown on his face over the course of the last few days. How he wished he could have been deployed during the holidays this year. If he’d been in some undisclosed area on a dangerous mission, he wouldn’t even know what day it was. He hoped hanging out on a mountain alone, he’d be able to forget this would be his first Christmas without the two people who had been the only things that mattered in his life.

  Turning on a dime, he raced out the door, stumbling down the snow-covered stairs. Yanking open the back of his SUV, he pulled out a case of liquor, balancing it under one arm while he snagged a few grocery bags. He blinked as the snow pelted his eyes. A set of headlights appeared down the road not too far from the hotel, though he couldn’t see the building. Twenty-five cabins lined the windy dead-end road at the ski-in and ski-out resort. When he’d made the reservation yesterday, he hadn’t any choices since everything had been booked solid. Who would have thought so many people would want to be away from home during the holidays?

  Before stepping inside, he shook off the heavy, wet snow and kicked off his steel-toe boots. Screw dinner. All he wanted was to put his feet up, drink, and forget how his heart ached with the loss of everything he held dear.

  There were two rooms upstairs with an ample bathroom, but he opted for the master bedroom on the first floor just behind the family room. No one would ever call him lazy, but he had no desire to climb up and down the stairs.

  Besides, the sofa actually looked pretty comfy with its big, fluffy pillows, and it was situated right in front of the television. He might just spend each night there.

  He found a tall glass and filled it with ice before making his way back to the family room. Thank God there hadn’t been a single Christmas decoration, except for the stocking on the front door that he’d tossed in the trash. They could take it out of his security deposit. He’d pay extra if he didn’t have to look at a piece of jolly cheer even one more time.

  Letting out a long sigh, he popped open the whiskey, inhaling its harsh scent while he stared at a muted television. The window on the far end showed off part of the ski slope. Lights lined the path of the chairlift, but the falling snow made it difficult to see anything but a white winter wonderland. Killington had closed at five, so no skiers edged through the thick snow. His heart raced. He wasn’t sure if it was from the first biting gulp of Jack, or the idea he’d been heading down a double black diamond trail as fast as he could handle.

  Maybe faster.

  He chuckled. Actually, it was more of a cough as he nearly choked on his second sip. The sting of the whiskey coating his stomach was like long fingers stretching inside before grabbing hold and twisting his gut. Whiskey just never went down right, but it worked faster than beer.

  His CO recently told him he worried that Ryder had a death wish, which was why he forced him into a two-week leave.

  It wasn’t a death wish, but he didn’t have much of a desire to live either.

  A bright reflection hit the television. It didn’t surprise him that it took so long for the car he’d seen to make the trek up the road. There had to be at least two new inches added to the six that had already fallen. The weatherman predicted twenty-five inches of snow over the next two days, shutting down roads and businesses, but hopefully not the slopes.

  The ice clinked in the glass as he swirled the dark liquid, watching it hug the sides. He breathed slowly, keeping his pulse steady, his eyes free of tears, and his mind clear of any images.
r />   The sound of boots stomping on the porch caught his attention. He shifted on the sofa, spilling his drink on his lap when he noticed the white crossover car with a goddamned pine tree tied to the top parked next to his vehicle. A woman tugged at a suitcase and a young boy, maybe seven or eight, adjusted a small backpack over his shoulder.

  “Shit,” he mumbled as he stood. They obviously stopped at the wrong cabin and he was going to have to cut them off at the pass, but before he could get to the door, a beeping sound much like the one a key card would make when unlocking a door, rang out, bouncing off the walls.

  He froze, steadying himself by holding the railing at the bottom of the stairs in front of the door that swung open.

  A woman’s laughter filled his ears. He stood there, blinking, his drink in his hand, staring at a lady with a long, blond braid falling over the front of her shoulder. She pushed her suitcase to the side while she shrugged off her coat, shaking the snow off.

  He cleared his throat.

  She jumped, then opened her mouth and gasped in a half-scream, shoving her young son behind her back. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my cabin?”

  The boy peeked his head out, trying to sidestep his mother, well, he assumed the boy belonged to her, but she shoved him back with a protective arm.

  “Who I am is immaterial since you’re the one coming into my cabin.” He set his drink down and pulled out the key card from his back pocket. “I checked in less than an hour ago.”

  “That’s impossible. I was given this key and here,” she dug into her purse, handing him a piece of paper, “it clearly states I’m in cabin 15. This is cabin 15.”

  He held up his finger before disappearing down the hall to get his own receipt, which also had written with a thick Sharpie across the bottom: Cabin 15.

  When he returned to the front door, the woman had her cell phone pressed against her ear.

  He pushed the paper in her direction. She took it with a shaky hand.

  “Yes, I’ll hold,” she said.

  “She’s calling the hotel,” the boy whispered.

  “Good idea,” Ryder said, snagging his drink from the table next to the stairs. He leaned against the railing as he brought the glass to his lips. Images of his son taking his first steps as his wife covered her mouth while happy tears dribbled down her cheek bombarded his brain. He needed to finish this drink, letting the burn roll across his tongue, before the ice watered it down too much. However, there was no point in being a total asshole in front of a child.

  “Oh, hi. This is Olivia Tate. I just checked in a few minutes ago. I’m in Cabin 15. Well, it seems there is a,” she held the paper he’d just given her up to her eyes, “Mr. Ryder Jameson who also has this cabin, so obviously there must be a mistake. I don’t mind moving, as long as it’s a cabin.” She cupped the phone. “Do you mind moving to the hotel? I bet all the cabins are sold out.”

  “I mind,” he said behind gritted teeth. A hotel meant he’d have to interact with more people, and it was bad enough he’d have to share a chairlift with another beating heart.

  “Wait, what did you say?”

  “I said I—”

  She held out her palm, interrupting him. “You can’t be serious. There has to be a room somewhere.” She folded one arm over her middle and tapped her foot.

  The young boy rolled his eyes. “She always does that when she’s about to get really mad.” He pointed toward the floor.

  Ryder let his gaze lower; unfortunately that meant taking in the beautiful woman. She had to be about five six, and he suspected under her winter layers was a fit body. Her eyes looked blue in the light, but when she turned her head slightly, they shimmered like a shiny emerald. He did his best to shut that down. The few times he had tried to be with a woman in the last two months, he couldn’t get past a kiss, and those women weren’t looking for anything but a one-night stand.

  He was just looking for some kind of comfort, and from now on, he would find that in a bottle of whiskey.

  “You’re going to have to find me a comparable cabin somewhere on this mountain near the ski school, and if you can’t you’re going to have to find Mr. Jameson a suitable room. This is not acceptable. I have a small boy with me and…yes. I’ll hold,” she said, shaking her head, her foot rattling the floorboards. “This is unbelievable.”

  Ryder had to agree and if she wasn’t so amusing by the way her rosy lips pursed and her forehead crinkled, he’d be grabbing the phone and giving the clerk a piece of his mind. Something about this woman and her kid tugged at his frayed heartstrings. But that didn’t mean he wanted to spend any more time than absolutely necessary with them.

  The young boy pointed to the rucksack. “Are you in the military?”

  Ryder nodded, not wanting to get into the million and one questions a young, inquisitive mind had. It had been sheer hell when he’d stopped to visit an old friend from boot camp who had retired a couple of years ago. His son and daughter wouldn’t stop with the rapid-fire questions on what he did, and when they found out he was a Navy SEAL, well, the reminder of his own son’s curiosity was like a hot poker being jabbed into his lungs. “What’s your name, kid?” Now that was a question he shouldn’t have asked. Anytime you put a name to an acquaintance, it became personal.

  “Noah.”

  “Nice name.” Ryder swallowed hard as his mind snapped to his own son, Owen. He’d been only three-years-old when he and his mother had been murdered. Ryder wondered how much Owen would have grown this past year. He would have finished his first few months of pre-school, and Ryder wondered if Owen would have clung to his mother’s legs or raced past all the other kids so he could be the first to explore. Olivia and Noah only served as a painful reminder of what he’d lost.

  What he’d never have again.

  “No. Giving me two free nights does not make up for the fact that you can’t get me a room anywhere for the next four days, and frankly, I don’t care that there is an unnecessary travel ban going on right now. I’ve got my young son with me, and I’m not staying with a perfect stranger.”

  Ryder chuckled. He never understood how a stranger could be perfect.

  Olivia glared at him, handing him her phone. “Why don’t you try talking to them?”

  “Gladly,” Ryder said, moving the phone to the side of his head. “This is Ryder Jameson.”

  “Mr. Jameson. We’re so sorry for this mix-up. But honestly, we are totally booked until December twenty-sixth. I have one of my associates calling all the other resorts, but so far everyone is booked, and there is the added problem that the side roads aren’t being plowed right now, and the main roads are about as snow-covered.”

  “I’m sure one of the other resorts has an opening, and I have four-wheel drive, so please, call us when you find something. I’m willing to move to another mountain, and I’ll gladly take a few free nights, and I’d appreciate it if you made sure Mrs. Tate’s son has free lessons for our trouble.”

  He ended the call. “For now, we might as well make the best of the situation.” He tilted his head so he could see out the window. Another inch had to have fallen, and it didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime soon. “Where’s your husband?”

  “I’m not married,” Olivia said.

  Noah looped his arm around his mother’s elbow, resting his head on her biceps. Noah couldn’t have been taller than four foot eight at best. He had almost no muscle definition, like most scrawny, young boys.

  “I see.” God, he didn’t want these people in his space. No way could he deal with a single mother and her son. Too many reminders. He glanced at Olivia’s phone, cradled in her hand.

  Her gaze followed his.

  “I’m willing it to ring too, no offense.”

  “None taken.” He took his glass and headed for a refill. “You can have the family room and television while we wait. Hopefully we won’t be sharing the cabin all night, but if that happens, there are two bedrooms upstairs.”

 
; “Where are you going?” Noah asked.

  “There is a room over there. I’m going to take my drink and go put my feet up. Just knock when you hear anything.” He snagged his rucksack, tossing it over his shoulder effortlessly before tucking the bottle of Jack under his arm. Without looking back, he took the ten steps to the master bedroom. He set his glass and the bottle on the nightstand and dug into his bag, pulling out the small picture frame.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping his whiskey, he stared at the last picture he’d taken of his family. It had been Christmas day, right before he’d been called for a deployment to an undisclosed area on a dangerous mission.

  He chugged his whiskey.

  “I should have died, not you,” he whispered, setting the frame, face down, on the nightstand.

  2

  Not two minutes after Olivia heard a door slam shut did her phone ring.

  “Hello,” she said with an exasperated sigh. She ruffled Noah’s hair and pointed to the television.

  Noah didn’t need much prodding, and he jumped on the sofa with the remote, flipping through the channels.

  “This is the manager, and I’m sorry about the mix-up. I don’t know how it happened, and I regret to inform you that the roads in and out of the resort are closed, and I’ve not a single room available.”