Because Naughty Holidays Can Be Oh So Nice 2015

by Nicole Edwards

  “I noticed that,” Z said. “You make it?”

  “I did. Those crazy ladies keep askin’ me to the arts and crafts room.”

  Ryan fought the urge to laugh when Buddy blushed.

  “I hope you’re not flirtin’ with them,” Z teased. “They’ll never give you a minute’s peace if you do.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Buddy said with a gravelly chuckle.

  “You hungry yet?” Z asked Buddy after turning his attention back from the tree.

  “Whenever you boys are.”

  “You know Z,” Ryan said, “he’s always hungry.”

  Buddy smiled at them both, a knowing look in his eyes. Z had told Ryan the stories about how Buddy had always wanted to hear about Z’s adventures. But there had been one in particular that Buddy had fixated on, and it was the last one he and Z had been on together, when they’d been hired to keep an eye on a painting down near the coast.

  According to Buddy, he was a sucker for a good romance.

  Every time Z mentioned that story, Ryan blushed as well. Although he didn’t exactly consider it a romance, he could see it from Buddy’s perspective. It had been the point in Ryan’s life that had sent his world into a tailspin, the moment when he realized just what he’d been missing in his life.

  Love.

  And Z.

  Which were, now that he thought about it, one and the same. At least for him.

  “Food’s waitin’,” Buddy said as he turned and headed for the door.

  Ryan accepted Z’s hand when he held it out to him, and they followed Buddy to the cafeteria.

  “HEY,” Z SAID to Buddy when the three of them were sitting at a table in the cafeteria, chowing down on chicken and mashed potatoes. “You should tell RT about the gift you bought your wife when y’all were first married.”

  Buddy’s face lit up like the Christmas tree in the corner of the cafeteria. Z knew how much Buddy loved talking about his deceased wife; he’d been honored to hear the stories multiple times during the time they’d known each other. And this one was one of his favorites.

  Buddy smiled at RT, then launched right into his story. “Meg and I were married in 1952. We share a birthday, so we were both twenty-two at the time. Piss-poor but living on love, so it didn’t really matter until it came time for a holiday or anniversary. I was always hoping to buy her the biggest, flashiest gift I could find. I’d been looking for three weeks for something to get her. I found plenty, but everything I wanted to get her cost more than I had to spend, so I had started a list with all my ideas and kept it taped behind the dresser in our bedroom, hoping she wouldn’t find it.

  “I’d underestimated my wife, because a week before Christmas, she found the list. I’d come home to find her sitting on the bed staring at the list with tears in her eyes. I immediately panicked and asked her what was wrong.”

  Buddy’s eyes seemed to glaze over, and Z knew he was reliving that day.

  “Meggie? What’s wrong, honey?”

  Buddy took a deep breath and stepped into their bedroom, his eyes glued to the piece of paper in her hand. He pulled open the top drawer and grabbed a handkerchief, holding it out for her. Meg took it from him but didn’t look up at his face, which concerned him.

  He knew exactly what that paper was. What he didn’t understand was why she was crying. He had the list memorized, so he ran through it several times while he stared down at his beautiful bride sitting on the edge of the mattress, her hair pulled back from her face, tears dripping from her chin.

  She sniffled, then pressed the handkerchief to her nose before lifting her dark brown eyes to meet his. For the first time since he’d stepped into the room, Buddy took a breath. She didn’t look angry, but still, it didn’t explain why she was sad.

  “I found this behind the dresser,” she said softly. “I wasn’t snooping, I promise. I dropped something and reached behind it to get it and found this.” She held the paper up in front of her. “What is it?”

  Buddy walked over and sat on the mattress beside her, knowing he had to explain. “It’s a list of gifts I want to buy you.”

  Meg’s dark eyes rested on his face, a soft smile on her lips, and Buddy relaxed a little. “We don’t have the money for these things.”

  Buddy nodded. He knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that he wanted to get them for her. If he had the money, he would’ve bought everything on the list and then some.

  Meg touched his face with her soft fingers, and Buddy met her gaze. “Could you tell me why you picked them?”

  Buddy frowned, confused.

  “It’s the thought that counts, Buddy,” Meg explained. “And these gifts… They are very thoughtful. Maybe you could explain what made you want to get them for me.”

  Buddy’s heart fell. Was Meg making fun of him? She’d never been the type of girl to pick on anyone, but he felt as though she was.

  Her hand cupped his cheek. “Buddy Stallone, don’t you start overthinking this.”

  She knew him so well.

  Meg gave a watery chuckle, then tugged at his arm. “Come on. Climb up here and tell me why you wanted to get me these things.”

  He watched as Meg moved up against the headboard of their bed, propping up pillows for him to lean against. After kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt, he walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in with her. As he rested his back against the headboard, Meg curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder as she handed him the paper.

  “Tell me why you wanted to get this,” she said, pointing to the first item on the list.

  Buddy grinned. “I thought you’d want a television so you could watch I Love Lucy,” he told her. He knew that show was her absolute favorite. Since her parents had a television and they’d yet to get one of their own, they usually went over there so she could watch.

  “I do love that show,” she admitted softly. “She’s so fun. But you know I like to read more.”

  True. His beautiful bride did love to read. Some days, she spent more time at the library than she did at home.

  “And this one?” she said, pointing to the next item.

  He glanced at her sideways. “Wouldn’t you want a dishwasher? It’s supposed to make washing dishes easier.”

  “But washing dishes is already easy,” she told him, tapping his lower lip the way she always did when she was telling him he was being silly. “I do love how you want me to be happy.”

  “That’s the only thing I want,” he whispered against her hair.

  Meg lifted her gaze to meet his. “Well, then you’re in luck. ’Cause you already make me happy.”

  Buddy’s heart swelled in his chest. Since the day he’d met her three years ago, Meg had become his entire world. He loved her with every piece of himself, and it was true, her happiness was all that mattered. And that was one of the reasons he longed to buy her nice things… He wanted to put a beautiful smile on her face.

  “And this one?”

  “Those were the heels you were looking at in the window at that little boutique downtown. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you saw them.”

  “You remember that?” Meg’s eyes were wide as she turned to look at him again. “That was … that was more than six months ago.”

  “I remember everything from that day,” he explained. “You had your hair curled, and your lips were pink from that new lipstick you’d finally bought after months of me telling you to get it. You were wearing that pretty yellow sundress and those little brown sandals. You had tried on a pair of sunglasses in one of the shops, but I told you they covered up too much of your pretty face, which made you laugh at me.” It was true, Buddy didn’t forget anything when it came to Meg.

  More tears formed, and her eyes glistened, making his heart hurt again.

  But when she smiled, he forgot everything.

  “The greatest gift you could give me, Buddy Stallone, is the love you show me already. The fact that you remembered that … that�
�s the greatest gift ever. I wish we had pictures from that day.”

  And that was the moment Buddy knew exactly what he would buy his beautiful bride for Christmas.

  “You bought her a camera?” RT asked, looking back and forth between Buddy and Z.

  Z smiled.

  “Am I right?”

  “Sort of,” Z admitted, grinning at Buddy.

  “That year, I bought my beautiful Meg memories.”

  RT frowned, obviously confused.

  “Yes,” Buddy said with a laugh. “I bought her a camera. And I bought her a picture book. But I made a promise to myself that I would take many pictures with her, of her. And I did. For years and years, we collected pictures of all the things that made us both happy. And we filled up many albums with those images.”

  RT grabbed his tea glass while Z watched him, trying to figure out what was going through his beautiful brain. The man worked so hard, was so good at what he did, but sometimes, he overlooked the little things. Z knew RT was trying to find the perfect gift, but just like Meg, Z already had the greatest gift in the world. The fact that RT would worry so much over trying to make Z happy … well, that made Z happier than any gift he could possibly come up with.

  “So, did you find that recipe you were looking for?” Buddy asked, pulling Z’s attention back to him.

  “Not yet, no. But I’m not gonna give up yet.”

  Chapter Four

  ON MONDAY AFTERNOON, Ryan was finishing up an email when Z walked into his office after knocking briefly. He looked up and smiled, unable to help himself, because Z was grinning from ear to ear, his dark eyes dancing.

  “You ready?” Z asked.

  “For?” Ryan leaned back in his chair.

  “The white elephant exchange.”

  Oh, right. Shit. He’d forgotten all about it, actually.

  “It’s a good thing you’ve got me,” Z told him as though reading Ryan’s mind.

  “It is,” Ryan confirmed, and it had nothing to do with the fact Z kept him on track, either. He was simply lucky to have Z period. “Let me finish this email?”

  “Sure. But you’ve got two minutes. Then I’m sending the others in to get you.”

  Ryan leaned forward and began typing instantly. He did not need Trace or Kira or Jayden coming in to give him a hard time.

  “I’ve got the gifts, so you can just come join us.”

  Ryan nodded, typing away.

  Five minutes later, he was in the main bullpen, where the others had gathered. Everyone was there. His sister, Marissa, and her husband, Trace. Trace’s parents, Casper and Emily. The rest of the Kogan clan: Conner and Conner’s daughter, Shelby, Hunter, and their sister, Courtney. Ryan didn’t see Courtney’s husband, but he wasn’t necessarily surprised. The mob boss was probably busy … doing whatever it was he did.

  Of course, Ryan’s parents, Elizabeth and Bryce, were there. Ryan’s uncle TJ and TJ’s wife, Stephanie. Ryan’s brothers Colby, Clay, and Austin, along with Ryan’s cousins, Tanner, Kira, Evan, and Dominic.

  It wouldn’t be complete without the others who worked for them. The S1S receptionist, Jayden, who had masterminded the entire thing with Kira’s help. As well as Emma, Decker, Claire, Lilly, Ian, John, Craig, Shane, and a handful of others from support.

  Everyone seemed to be having a good time already. There were finger foods, drinks, some holiday music in the background, and a whole lot of laughter and conversation. As he moved closer, someone placed a red Santa hat on his head, and Ryan fought the urge to roll his eyes. He’d never been accused of being jolly, but he could play along. These people were his family, the most important ones in his life.

  Z approached, carrying two clear cups of punch, and handed one to Ryan. With a thank you and a smile, Ryan took it from him, then took a sip.

  “I hope like hell no one’s drivin’ home after this,” he muttered after his nostrils burned from the alcohol.

  “There’s not enough to go far, and they’ll be here for a few hours yet. I’ll keep an eye on ’em, though.”

  That was Z, always thoughtful.

  Another reason Ryan wanted to buy him the perfect gift this year. Although he still wasn’t any closer to finding one. Even after he’d heard Buddy’s story yesterday. He knew the last thing Z needed was a camera. Granted, he was also aware that wasn’t the moral of the story. He wasn’t that dense, but still, he had yet to come up with an idea even as remotely romantic as the story Buddy had shared.

  But he was working on it.

  “Hey,” Ryan’s mother said when she came to stand beside Ryan and Z.

  Ryan leaned in for a hug, as did Z when it was his turn.

  “Did you find that recipe yet?” Liz asked Z.

  “Not yet,” he said.

  Ryan could hear a little more frustration in his husband’s tone. Everyone seemed to be asking about that recipe, which was why Ryan had started doing a little digging of his own. He knew Z didn’t want one off the Internet, so that was out. There were a million different versions of it, from what he’d seen when he’d started his research, but Ryan understood the sentimentality of it being his father’s recipe. Which was why he’d mentioned it to Buddy before leaving the nursing home yesterday. Asked him to keep an eye out, even to check what few personal effects Thomas had there at the home with him.

  He’d also called Z’s mother, Cindy. She knew of the recipe, but she’d had no luck in finding it. After that quick call, Ryan had also reached out to Z’s brother, Reese, to see if he could take a look around his house. Reese was currently living in the family home in Coyote Ridge, where Z had grown up. Ryan figured if it was anywhere, it would be there.

  Still, he hadn’t heard anything from Reese yet.

  “Who’s ready to get this party started?” Jayden asked, donning her bright green LED Christmas tree glasses that flashed.

  A chorus of cheers erupted, and everyone found seats, most of them sitting on top of the desks littering the bullpen. They’d all been rearranged so that they circled a table in the middle, which held a pile of wrapped gifts.

  “All right, so y’all know the rules were simple this year,” Jayden explained. “Gifts needed to be roughly ten dollars and no alcohol.” When some people grumbled, Jayden grinned. “Alcohol is too easy and not nearly as fun. Anyway. When y’all came in, you were given a number. Who has number one?”

  Decker Bromwell raised his hand, holding up a small slip of paper.

  “Congrats,” Jayden said cheerfully. “You get to pick first.”

  Ryan sat on the table beside Z, watching as Deck went to the table and began picking up presents, shaking them as he grinned. When he seemed content with his pick, he returned to his spot.

  Everyone’s attention was focused on him as he unwrapped the long, thin box.

  Some people laughed as Deck frowned when he held up the white sweatshirt. When he turned it around so everyone could see, laughter erupted throughout the room. Ryan’s eyes widened when he saw what had been ironed on the sweatshirt.

  “Please tell me you did not bring that,” he muttered to Z.

  “Not me,” Z confirmed, chuckling.

  Ryan prayed he wasn’t blushing as Deck held up the sweatshirt proudly. There, on the front, was a huge picture of Ryan’s face. Someone had taken a candid shot of him somewhere, and he had to admit, it wasn’t his best face. But to each his own.

  “I’m gonna wear this proudly,” Deck announced.

  “Not if I get a chance to steal it,” Z told him, making everyone laugh.

  “Who’s got number two?” Jayden inquired.

  Conner’s fourteen-year-old daughter, Shelby, raised her hand, then moved to the front and shyly grabbed the first present she could reach before retreating back to her chair beside her father. Everyone watched as she opened the gift.

  “What is it?” Marissa asked.

  Conner grumbled.

  “Beer Pong Head Game,” Shelby told them.

  Ryan looked at the picture, which showed
a guy wearing an inflatable hat that held six Solo cups on the top.

  “Someone better steal that from my daughter,” Conner growled, looking around.

  Ryan laughed.

  For the next half hour, he sat there, watching as people opened more gifts, some stealing the presents that had already been opened, forcing the original person to go back and select another. Poor Shelby continued to get the alcohol-themed gifts, including a light-up cocktail shaker, bourbon marshmallows, a sour-puss beer Koozie and a flask set with its own removable shot glass. Finally, after Conner had squirmed a half dozen times, Shelby ended up picking a set of temporary knuckle tattoos. Although her father wasn’t all that happy, he warned anyone that if they stole them from her, he’d hunt them down.

  When it was Z’s turn, he did as he’d promised and stole the sweatshirt with Ryan’s face on it from Trace, who had stolen it from Deck. With it safely in Z’s possession—a gift could only be taken twice—he seemed to be a happy man.

  Not that Ryan enjoyed looking over to see Z wearing that damn thing, but he guessed it could’ve been worse.

  And then it was Ryan’s turn.

  He considered all the gifts he’d seen thus far, including a retro game controller phone case, an emoji pillow, a variety of bacon gifts, and a ruler that read: size matters. None of which appealed to him, so he figured he would take his chances.

  The instant he had it open, he knew he would get hell for it.

  “What is it?” Casper asked.

  Ryan shook his head as he lifted it out of the package. He’d unwrapped a bright pink cupcake shower cap, complete with a cherry on top.

  Z clapped, then grabbed the cap, removed the Santa hat Ryan had been wearing, and thrust it over Ryan’s head.

  More clapping ensued, and Ryan hoped his face wasn’t as red as the cherry.

  Z WAS PRETTY sure the highlight of his day was watching RT turn beet red when Z had placed that shower cap on his head. Surprisingly, no one had stolen it from him, either, which made it all the better.

  The game had lasted approximately three hours, and then RT had made a speech, thanking everyone for all their hard work, and ended by ordering pizza for everyone and convincing them to stick around. The man didn’t realize how much this group loved him. Although most of the people employed by Sniper 1 Security were family, there were a lot who weren’t, but they were loyal just the same. And it was the thoughtfulness of the Kogans and Trexlers that made it that way. They treated every member of the team as though they were.