Nice & Naughty

by Tawny Weber

“She’s caused stress and drama all through town,” Marion countered.

  Jade wanted to point out that Marion had done plenty of that herself. But the woman was a guest in her mother’s house. Which meant it was time to get away before Jade said something her mother would make her regret.

  “Help yourselves to the buffet,” she snapped.

  Forgetting the snickerdoodles, Jade tossed their jackets on the bench, not bothering to hang them up. Not even the gorgeous leather, which spoke to how angry she was. Needing air, needing space, she bypassed the kitchen and headed for the backyard. Blinded by anger, she made it all the way across the wraparound porch that encircled the house before she stopped short.

  What the hell?

  She blinked.

  Then, ignoring her party makeup, she rubbed her eyes and blinked again.

  “Mom?” she breathed.

  There, seated at the old picnic table with her mother, was the mayor. His graying hair gleamed in the winter sunshine. She couldn’t see his expression, though. Because his face was plastered up against her mother’s.

  Her mom? And Mayor Applebaum?

  Since when? And how? And, oh, God, why?

  Baffled, too freaked to even want any of those questions answered, Jade hurried around the porch toward the side, then the front of the house. Home was all she could think. There were snickerdoodles there. She’d bring them back after she’d sifted through the emotional hurricane of the last ten minutes. She figured it was a good sign when she reached the front of the porch undetected. Then her eyes landed on the eight-foot-tall blow-up Santa globe on the lawn.

  She dropped to her butt on the top step and dug her fingers into her scalp, then lifted her head again.

  Yep. Those were her panties, a bright red thong with glittery accents. In true holiday fashion, they were draped over the white fluffy ball of Santa’s hat. Too high for her to reach. But in clear view, like a naughty beacon, for all to see.

  Just when she thought the day couldn’t suck any more, it proved her wrong.

  13

  DIEGO PULLED UP in front of the Carson house and dismounted the Harley. He squinted at Santa, then shifted his gaze to Jade. Then looked back at Santa.

  “Those are yours?” he confirmed.

  Jade cast a quick glance at the houseful of people, including, he imagined, her entire family. Then, with a wince, she nodded. “Can you get them without anybody noticing?”

  “Sure.” Diego reached into his pocket and pulled out his handy-dandy multipurpose knife. Before he could flip the blade, Jade rushed forward with a gasp and grabbed his arm.

  “You can’t stab Santa.”

  He grinned at the horrified look in her big green eyes. Unable to help himself, he leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over her open lips. She tasted like cinnamon. And now she looked shocked instead of horrified. Mission accomplished.

  “Don’t you trust me?” he asked, only half teasing.

  Her eyes still a little foggy with desire, she shifted her gaze from his face to the jolly elf, then back again. Then she glanced over his shoulder at her mother’s house.

  “Just be fast.” Her hand lingering on his arm for a second, smoothing over his bare wrist in the softest of caresses, she finally stepped back. “And quiet, too. He’s likely to go out with a bang.”

  Diego grinned. Then, walking around her, he grabbed a low branch of the mulberry tree and cut off a long twig. One eye on the house, he reached up, snagged the thong on the end of the wood and flipped it into his hand.

  “Quiet enough?”

  “Perfect,” she said, giving him a thumbs-up. Then she held her hand out for the panties. Diego, still inspecting her face, shook his head and tucked them into his pocket.

  “You’re upset,” he observed.

  “My panties were on Santa’s head.”

  He noted the shadows in her eyes and the tension in her shoulders. His gaze slid to the house, full of people and obligations and expectations.

  “Let’s go,” he said. Then, despite his vow to keep a physical distance, he wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders to guide her away from the house.

  “I...”

  “You should listen to me.” He glanced at her feet. As expected, she wore skyscraper heels. White booties, they went just past her ankles to show off scrunched socks that glittered with silver threads. Skinny white jeans hugged her legs all the way to her hips, where her silky blouse was cinched with a wide silver belt. Fluttering ruffled sleeves and a vest that flowed from shoulder to knee completed the festive winter look.

  “You up for a ride on my bike?”

  Staring at him so hard, so deeply, he wondered if she’d delved into the secrets of his soul, Jade finally nodded. “Sure. A ride, a walk, whatever you’d like.”

  Diego almost groaned as a visual of all the things he’d like flashed through his mind, most involving her naked, and one terrifyingly including old age, holding hands and scary commitments.

  He handed her his helmet, watching to make sure she buckled up properly before swinging his leg over the seat. Then, even though he only planned on going a block or so, he took off his jacket and handed it to her.

  “It gets cold on the bike,” he muttered sheepishly.

  “You are such a hero.” Her smile was a little wobbly, but she pulled the black leather jacket on.

  “C’mon,” he instructed. Before his good sense took over and he changed his mind.

  After one last guilty look toward the house, she complied.

  How she balanced in those boots was a mystery, but she swung her leg over the seat, then slid close behind him. He wondered if she’d be willing to try it again, naked except for the footwear.

  “Hold tight.”

  He kicked the bike to life, waited until her grip on his belly felt solid, and with her knees pressing into the sides of his hips, he roared off.

  She waited until they got to the end of the block before letting out a whoop of delight. Diego laughed, feeling freer, happier than he ever remembered. Since most of the town was at the Carson open house, the streets were empty as he cruised around. He actually felt the tension draining out of her as Jade leaned into his back, her face resting against his shoulder blade. Not ready to end it, he took a side road out of town.

  Opening the throttle, he roared away from Diablo Glen. The space between houses widened, serene green fields and orchards blurring as they flew by. When he came to a fork, he slowed. It was so tempting to keep going. But running wasn’t going to solve anything.

  As he turned back, the orange orchard in the distance caught his eye. He narrowed his gaze. The shadows of a dozen or more people moved between trees. Harvesting? Wasn’t this a weird time to do that?

  “Whose place is that?” he yelled over the engine rumble.

  He almost regretted asking when Jade lifted her head off his shoulder. A chill shivered through him at the loss of her warmth.

  “That’s the Kroger property. I guess Marion’s family is helping harvest this year. I don’t know why she didn’t bring them to the party, though. That’s kind of rude.”

  She tensed up again, all the way back to the fingers digging into his abs. Brilliant detective that he was, Diego figured Marion had played a part in Jade’s afternoon stress. Let it go, he decided. With one last glance at the orchard, he shifted into gear, waited for her arms to tighten again, then took off without asking any of the questions running through his mind. Five minutes later, he pulled up in front of her cottage. He smiled at the deep sigh she gave before she unwrapped her arms from his body.

  “That was great,” she said as she found her balance on the sidewalk next to him and took the helmet off. She ran her fingers through her hair, the pale blond glistening in the sunlight. “Thanks for the ride.”

  He t
ook the helmet, debating whether to hook it to the seat or put it on and get the hell out of here.

  “You’re freezing,” she realized, rubbing her hands over his arms. The warmth of her palms, the friction of her touch, sent a shot of desire right through his body. Diego shifted uncomfortably on the bike seat. Harleys weren’t made for horny times. “Come inside. I’ll warm you up.”

  He went rock-hard, making straddling the leather seat torture. His fingers tightened on the helmet straps.

  “Hot cocoa? Maybe some gingerbread?” she tempted.

  He should go. The more distance between him and Jade, the easier it would be when he left town. His detective’s intuition was humming, the answer to the case buzzing just out of reach. He just needed a little time to mull it over. Distraction-free time.

  “I have homemade whipped cream. It’s great on warm gingerbread.”

  He swung off the bike and followed her up the steps like a lovesick puppy.

  Freaking pathetic.

  “I left my purse at my mom’s,” she said when they reached the door. Before he could offer to break in, she hurried back down the steps and around the side of the house. A few seconds later, she was back, key in hand.

  “Who knows you stash a key?” he asked, frowning.

  Opening the door carefully to make sure the cat didn’t escape, she shrugged. She bent down, giving him a sweet rear view, and scooped Persephone up, then let the door swing wide to welcome Diego in.

  The cat gave a long meow, leaped from Jade’s arms into his. Diego laughed as he was hit in the face by silky fur. He met Jade’s eyes over the purring mass. Her face was lit brighter than her Christmas tree. Every cliché of day’s-end comfort, from a cool drink to a cute puppy with slippers clenched in its teeth, filled Diego’s mind. None could hold a candle to feeling welcomed, feeling wanted, for the first time in his life.

  * * *

  JADE WISHED she could read minds. She’d give anything to know what was going on in Diego’s head. He looked sad, confused and sexy all at the same time. The sexy she was getting used to. But big, bad, hotshot detective rarely showed any emotions, so the sad and confused worried her.

  “Do you want whipped cream on your cocoa as well as your gingerbread?” was all she said, though.

  “Sure.” He gave her a long look, then smiled. “Whipped cream sounds good.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, where she started the coffee and pulled out a pan of gingerbread from the fridge. She set it in the oven on low to warm, then wordlessly gathered the makings of whipped cream.

  Getting nervous at his continued silence, she took off his jacket so she didn’t get anything on it. He tossed it over the back of a chair, then set the cat on the floor and took a seat.

  “I heard you were at the Caroling in the Park this morning,” she said, pouring cream into the freezer bowl she usually used to make ice cream. She added some sugar, a little vanilla and a splash of rum. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Sure. It’s a nice park. From what people were saying, you hold a lot of events there.”

  “Next to the town hall, it’s the most popular gathering place.” Over the sound of the hand mixer, she said, “You should see it in the spring. Flowers cover the gazebo, the barbecues pop up and picnics are the norm. The ladies’ auxiliary funded new playground equipment last year, too. The swings are fabulous.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been on a swing,” he mused aloud, his attention on the cat, who was staring intently at his jacket.

  “Never?” Too shocked to pay attention, Jade splattered not-yet-whipped cream all over the counter. With a grimace, she went back to aiming the mixer with one hand while wiping the mess with a towel in the other. Still, she eyed Diego. “I didn’t realize it was possible to grow up without playing on a swing.”

  “Most of my trips to a park involve narcs, stakeouts or arrests.” His words were offhand, his focus still on the cat, who was now growling at his jacket, swatting the pocket with her paw.

  “You didn’t have a lot of trips to the playground as a child?”

  “I bounced around a lot as a kid. Foster homes, mostly in areas where playing in the park meant risking your life. Every once in a while, I’d be tossed back to my uncle. He lived in a Podunk town that wasn’t big on strange kids.” Diego’s smile flashed.

  If that wasn’t a good reason to hate and avoid small towns, Jade didn’t know what was.

  She gave an obligatory smile, even as her heart broke a little. She’d thought it was so exciting, being a loner and not having to answer to anyone. But that meant not having anyone, too. Loner and lonely were the same, she realized. She wished she could wrap her arms around Diego and hug him close, so he felt loved, and never alone again.

  Before she could figure out what to do with that realization, Persephone lunged with a hissing yowl onto Diego’s jacket. Jade flipped the switch and tossed the mixer on the counter, running across the room to yank her cat’s claws from the nice leather.

  “I’m so sorry,” she gasped, pulling back in shock when Persephone aimed a hiss her way. “I don’t know what her problem is. She adores you.”

  A frown creasing his brow, Diego crouched down, holding out one hand. Eyes narrowed, the angry feline backed away. Jade gaped. The cat worshipped him. Why was she acting so crazy? Diego didn’t seem offended, though. He was calm. Mellow, even.

  The way he had when the cat was stuck up a tree, he murmured quiet nonsense talk. This time it didn’t soothe or calm her, though. Instead, Persephone’s paws shot out, snagging his jacket again. She hissed. Moving slowly, cautiously, Diego slipped his fingers into the pocket. He pulled out the pair of panties he’d stashed there after rescuing them from Santa’s head.

  The cat hissed again, gave an ugly growl and leaped at them. Snatching them out of his hand with her teeth, she flew from the room.

  “Holy cow,” Jade breathed. “She’s never been like that before.”

  Diego didn’t respond. He stared intently at the doorway through which the cat, and her bounty, had disappeared. Jade recognized his cop look, distant and considering.

  “Diego?” she asked quietly, not sure what was going on.

  After another second, he pulled his gaze back to her and offered a quick smile. “Well, that was fun. So, is the whipped cream ready?”

  Jade studied his face, then looked toward the door. She didn’t know what had just happened, but she could feel the air change. Feel his intensity level ratchet up.

  “What’s the difference between real whipped cream and that stuff in a tub?” he asked.

  As distractions went, it was blatant and obvious. Jade debated for another second, then decided he was too much a cop to tell her anything he didn’t want to.

  “The difference? Mostly flavor.”

  “Yeah? I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.”

  “So many things you haven’t done,” Jade teased. Then, wanting to lighten the mood, she scooped up a fingerful of the rich whipped cream and offered it to him. Dark eyes intent on hers, Diego hesitated. Since he was a smart man with a finely honed instinct for anything sexual, she knew that he knew exactly what she really wanted to offer, and it wasn’t just rum-infused sugary goodness.

  She held her breath. As soon as his mouth wrapped around her finger, though, the breath whooshed out. His lips were as soft as his tongue was hot.

  Oh, God, it felt good. He slid his tongue along her finger, then sucked softly. Wet heat gathered between her thighs, making her want to squirm. His eyes locked on hers, he slowly, so deliciously slowly, released her. He didn’t lean back, though. Instead, he gestured with his chin to the bowl.

  “More.”

  Her eyes locked on his, Jade scooped up more whipped cream. But instead of lifting it to his mouth, she wiped it on her lower lip in invitation.r />
  His eyes gleaming with passion, he leaned forward. His gaze held hers as he swiped his tongue over her lip.

  “Mmm,” he murmured. Then, as if he couldn’t get enough, he sucked her lip into his mouth, nibbling gently.

  Jade almost whimpered when he pulled away. “So...” she said slowly, smoothing her hands down his shoulders and over the warm expanse of his chest.

  “So?”

  She wet her lips, then met his eyes. She knew she probably looked nervous. Or maybe a little freaked out. But she also knew he had the power to see past that. To the desire. The passion. The intense need she had for him.

  “Do you want to see more of my lingerie?” she blurted in a breathless rush. Asking for anything for herself was hard enough, but asking when they both knew it was a bad idea? Oh, man.

  Diego’s smile was slow, wicked and totally hot. The worry in her body melted away, along with most of her thoughts, all of her resistance and every objection she’d ever had. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer, brushing against her.

  The long, hard bulge in his jeans pressed against her belly. Jade’s knees turned to Jell-O. Desire spiraled, tight and tempting, tightening her nipples and making her pulse race.

  Her fingers dug into his chest. Not out of desire this time, but purely from a desperate attempt to keep from oozing into a lusty puddle on his feet.

  “Can I ask one little favor?”

  “Anything,” she promised breathlessly.

  “Will you wear those boots with your lingerie?”

  * * *

  NEVER ONE TO WAKE EASILY, Diego slowly worked his way out of the depths of sleep. His brain sputtered to a start. Then, like a beeping answering machine overflowing with urgent messages, he tuned in to his body.

  It was wide-awake and horny.

  With good reason. He sighed, reveling in the delighted exhaustion that only intense sex could bring.

  He’d known she had a deep, intense sensual streak. A woman didn’t wear the kind of lingerie she did and not enjoy sex.

  And having tasted her before, he’d known the sex between them would be awesome. But last night? Diego threw his arm over his eyes to block the dim light that could only be the morning sun. Last night—and those boots—had been mind-boggling. His awareness might only be registering in the single digits, but he was 100 percent sure of two things.