The Scent of Pine

By Holly Day

Ashton Cross was stupid enough to fall out a window while trying to catch a criminal. Now he’s on sick leave and has been for weeks, and has nothing to do but watch his neighbors go about their day. It’s driving him insane. When he gets a Christmas card not meant for him, he doesn’t think much of it, but then there is another and another, all with the same motif.

For two years, Rafael Vidal has been hiding from his ex. He almost believed he’d gotten away when his neighbor knocks on his door to hand over a stack of Christmas cards. One look at the writing, and Rafael suspects he has been found.

When Ashton understands the situation, he’s set on catching Rafael’s ex. He might not be ready to get back to active duty at the police station, but finally, he has something to do, and he doesn’t mind keeping Rafael close. Rafael is trying to distract himself by helping Ashton put up Christmas decorations, but will they be able to enjoy Christmas with his stalker ex lurking around the corner?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Dec 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781646569823

Holly Day

Holly Day and Sherman Wick are the authors of several books about the Twin Cities. Sherman Wick received his BA in history from the University of Minnesota and has been a member of the Minnesota Historical Society for several decades. Holly Day has worked as a freelance writer for local and national publications for over twenty-five years and teaches writing classes at the Loft Literary Center.

Book preview

The Scent of Pine

By Holly Day

Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2021 Holly Day

ISBN 9781646569823

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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Gabi Cervenka, Leonie Duncan, Jean Malherbe, and Susana Perez, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. Thank you so much for taking the time to help make my stories better.

The Scent of Pine was written to celebrate Christmas Card Day, which is on December 9th. To celebrate, you can create and/or send cards to loved ones.

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The Scent of Pine

By Holly Day

Chapter 1

Rafael Vidal peeked out from behind the curtain onto the street. Snow had fallen during the night, and it was as if the world had been cleaned, as if some of the grime had washed away.

It was an illusion.

The front door of the house across the street opened. Rafael leaned back and made sure the curtain covered him. He was on the second floor, but it didn’t mean his neighbor couldn’t look up and spot him. Had Rafael lived there, he’d have done his best to ignore the ugly apartment building, but it didn’t mean the man would.

He was right on the border of the suburb, the first apartment building on the block, and what followed behind was one dusky gray apartment building after the other. Luckily, his windows were facing away from them. All he could see were cute little houses, with perfectly square gardens. There were Christmas lights and wreaths on the doors, and Rafael wished he lived in one of those houses instead of his barren, nicotine-yellow, single space apartment.

He loved Christmas decorations but didn’t own any. He’d packed a bag of clothes when he’d left—that was it. What little he had in the way of kitchenware and furniture he’d ordered online and had delivered. It freaked him out every time he had to order something, so he avoided doing it for as long as he could. He had to eat though, so he had groceries delivered every week.

His neighbor took a step out onto the stoop, his gaze sweeping over the street and then up toward the building. Rafael took another step back. There was no way he could know Rafael was there. No one knew Rafael was there—he hoped. He’d done his best not to be seen by anyone. He never left his apartment during daylight hours and had changed his name before moving here. The police had helped the best they could, but with Blake still missing, there wasn’t much they could do. It would have been his word against Blake’s, but then Blake disappeared, so they never went to trial.

Rafael suspected the police could find him should they want to. Blake probably wasn’t in hiding like he was but had simply moved to another city.

He watched the man with narrowed eyes. He held onto the railing as he walked down the stairs. Tall and confident, but he looked shaky somehow. As a car approached, he stopped and glared at it. Rafael held his breath. He couldn’t make out the details of the man’s face at this distance, but the dark hair and stubble on his cheeks had Rafael picturing dark eyes.

It didn’t matter if they were dark, blue, or green, Rafael would never look into them. He stepped back from the window and focused on the yellowing wall instead of the snow-covered road.

The apartment was stale and he longed to fill his lungs with the crisp, wintry air he imagined was outside, but he hardly ever opened windows during the day. Living on the second floor, he didn’t believe anyone would come in through them, but someone on the street might notice an open window and know he was in.

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Ashton Cross glared at the Christmas card in his hand and sighed. It was the fifth. He had to talk to the mailman. The cards weren’t addressed to him, and yet they ended up in his mailbox every