by Marnie Blue
Justin’s heart stuttered in his chest. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
She shook her head. “Me, either. You know, it’s been ten years. I’ve been an overseas correspondent, I’ve seen things, I’ve been in situations. But don’t worry about protecting me, Justin. I know how to protect myself.” She put her hand on his arm. “Please. Be my friend again.”
The thought occurred to Justin that besides protecting Lilly, he’d need to protect himself. In only twenty minutes—after a ten-year absence—she was already wrapping him around her finger. Worse, they weren’t kids anymore. She was giving him heart palpations when she fluttered her eyelashes, just like she did when he was a teenager. He wondered if they’d be just friends ever again.
In typical Lilly fashion, she didn’t give him much time to wonder. Cisco appeared beside the passenger door, and she hopped out of the car in a peal of bells and a waft of peppermint.
He watched her go off with Cisco in tow. Justin stared through the windshield at her, able to study her for the first time, unobserved.
Despite her sparkly heels, she moved quickly. It was those long, lean legs. Those perfect legs… Cisco raced to keep up with her.
Typical Lilly. On the go and in trouble, either causing it or finding it, always the one to rush in headlong, never stopping herself from doing whatever crossed her mind without a thought of the consequences. He remembered his pet name for her: Maddox the Menace.
Ten years later, she was still a menace.
She must have been a good correspondent, but the thought of her in bad—dangerous—situations made his breath catch and his heart pound with the familiar panic of post-traumatic stress. He always flashed back to that one simple mission, and the realization that all it took was one unexpected event to turn everything sideways and cause people to get hurt. He couldn’t allow that to happen again. O’Rourke he could trust to take care of himself; he knew how to assess a situation and how to react. But Lilly? Justin knew for sure that she was the type who went after the story but didn’t think about the situation.
Even things like hopping out into a crowd of parade watchers, while dressed in high heels and a flimsy, figure-hugging elf suit. Sure, she was talking to little kids and moms, but young men and dads were staring at her. He could practically read their thoughts, and none of them were good.
The thought occurred to Justin that he’d taken an oath to protect and to serve, and that meant he had a right to assume responsibility for Lilly no matter how much she protested. Right now, she was in his jurisdiction. He shoved the car into park, grabbed his coat from the back seat, got out, and hurried to Lilly’s side. “Here!” He thrust the coat at her, daring her not to take it. “It’s cold. You’ll freeze in that getup.”
“Oh.” She looked down at the coat, then up at him. “It’s part of your uniform. I can’t wear that.”
I knew she’d refuse it. “Right now, you’re part of my team, so I say it’s okay.” He pushed it at her again. “Take it.” He glared at the males in the crowd. They blinked back at him.
Maybe they weren’t as evil-intended as he’d imagined—after all, they were mostly teens with their parents and friends, or dads pushing toddlers in strollers and carrying babies in bags across their chests—but still. She was all va-va-voom in her sexy elf suit, not at all suitable for children. “I don’t want you to catch cold.”
Lilly smiled up at him. “Thanks. Still taking care of me.”
Always. He felt himself flush. “Whatever.” Justin hurried back to the car. Unwilling to climb in—yet—he watched her over the roof of the vehicle as she talked to people, her smile flashing and her red curls bobbing along with the bells on her hat. Lilly had always been a charmer; this was the perfect work for her.
Already, people were ignoring the mayor to focus on Lilly.
He couldn’t blame them; she was hard not to notice.
He slid behind the wheel, then bent to peer through the windshield to watch her work the crowd. Her hair shone like fire, but her smile was brighter. People lit up around her, laughing and smiling. She’d always had that gift of drawing people to her, moths to her flame.
Justin would not be a moth.
Lilly might have left because of her parents and teenage awkwardness, but still he only half forgave her for disappearing when Hannah needed her the most. When he needed her the most. Losing your dad was painful enough without the loss of a friend on top of it. Topping it off with the added responsibility of being the man of the family meant he hadn’t been able to mourn like his mother and sister. Instead, he’d had to be strong, be the one they could lean on.
She could have found some way, he was sure, to contact them. To contact him. She just hadn’t tried hard enough, is all. Because if Lilly wanted to do something, Lilly did it—even if it got her in trouble.
Speaking of trouble, Justin frowned as the mayor handed the microphone down to one of her assistants and her float started moving again. Crap. Should he wait for Lilly and Cisco? He made a few short blasts of the siren to get her attention, but she only turned to look, then waved him on.
The cadre of cops surrounding his car began marching past, and Kevin banged on the hood. “C’mon, Weave, let’s go!” he said over the loudspeakers.
The fire truck and the ambulance behind them blared their horns and sirens at him: Whoop-whoop! Wedged in place between the mayor and the fire department, he really didn’t have a choice. Lilly was on her own.
Forget it. We aren’t kids anymore. Lilly had fended for herself since he’d left for Afghanistan after high school, and she appeared no worse for wear. In fact, she looked great. In his coat, especially. She’d be fine.
He put the car in drive and rolled past her.
After about twenty minutes of peering behind him for Lilly, who’d vanished into the crowd, some clown on a banana-yellow Vespa zipped up alongside his cruiser. Then the little motorbike stopped right by the passenger-side door, and its rear rider hopped off.
Lilly!
She opened the door and hopped in with a wave to the clown, who sped off.
“Whew! That was fun. I have to get one of those.”
“What? A clown?” He shuddered.
“No. One of those little motorcycles,” she said. “Thanks for the coat. I couldn’t zip it up—it was like wearing a sleeping bag.” She slipped it off her shoulders. “Ooh! Now I’m cold. I should have kept it on.”
Justin focused his attention through the windshield. “Keep it then.” Then he realized she was alone. He turned to peer over his shoulder. “Where’s Cisco?”
“He’ll be along in a bit. He’s probably taking some more shots of the crowd.”
“He left you? Alone?” Justin bit his tongue. None of my business.
“He found me a ride is what he did. He’s my hero.”
“Some hero. He got you a ride with a clown. That’s suspect in my book.”
“Don’t hate,” Lilly said.
“Yeah but…hating clowns isn’t the same as hating other things. I’m sorry, but those guys are creepy.”
Lilly rolled her eyes. “Justin? The heat?”
“Sorry.” He turned on the heat so it poured through the vents. She sighed and leaned forward, tilting her chin up so the air blew down the V-neck of her tight elf costume and showing him a flash of her pink lace bra. “That’s nice.”
Pink lace? Lilly wears pink lace? Not that he expected her to wear utilitarian white bras, or even something with kitties, bunnies, or superheroes, but pink lace just didn’t mesh with his memories of Lilly. She really was grown up. And so was he. Things had changed.
“Justin!” she squeaked, and he turned to look out the windshield just in time to realize he was about to rear-end the mayor’s float. He slammed on the brakes.
The cops around his car made appropriately crude comments. A few seconds later, Kevin pounded on his window. “Dude. What the hell?”
He rolled it down. “Sorry. I got…” Um. “Distracted.”
&nbs
p; “Yeah, I’ll bet. Good thing none of us were in front of you.” Kevin bent to see Lilly. “How’s it going, elfie? Having fun?”
“Now that Justin got me all warmed up, I am.”
Son of a… “She means she was cold,” Justin said. Oops. That makes it sound like we were caught doing something illicit. Like thinking about her lacy pink underwear. “I mean—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know what you mean. You dog.” Kevin winked, then stood up straight and nodded. “When we get to city hall, the mayor’s making a speech. Then the chief is going to talk, and you’ll get to make your speech. Have you figured out what you’re going to say?”
Justin nodded automatically, but as O’Rourke’s words registered, his stomach clenched in his gut. “Wait. I have to talk?”
“Yeah. It was my idea. You know, to go along with the new PD PR.” His partner gave him a cocky grin.
“You…I…but, you know I hate public speaking.” Justin sank into his seat behind the wheel as his heart began to race.
“I know.” Kevin smiled cheerfully.
“I’m going to throw up.”
“Face it, I’m doing you a favor. The more you do something you’re afraid to do, the less you’re afraid of it. It’s called ‘immersion therapy.’”
Justin narrowed his eyes at his partner.
O’Rourke took a step back and to the side. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Go up to the mike, say ‘Ho ho ho, merry Christmas,’ and wave. How hard will that be?”
“Right. I…walk up to the mike and…say…” He thought of the people, staring at him. Waiting for him to talk. And then his mind filled with whiteness. Blank. My mind is blank. I have no words. Words? Words. What? “Huh?” he said, peering out the window at Kevin. His vision blurred.
Then there was a warmth and the scent of peppermint as Lilly moved to lean against him. “Public speaking doesn’t have to be scary,” she said as she placed her hand on his chest.
Its warmth scorched through his cheap Santa suit, snaking its way up to his shoulder and down his chest. He shivered and stared down at her neat pink-and-white fingernails. The third nail had a tiny gingerbread man painted on it. Didn’t the gingerbread man run away? Justin wished he could run away…
“Come on, Justin. You’re a cop. You’re a marine. You fight bad guys. This is nothing in comparison. Believe me, you can handle a bunch of kids and their parents. I have confidence in you!” She winked at him and squeezed his arm. “But if you get tongue-tied, I’ll be there to save you.”
He turned to her; her face was only inches away, and the peppermint scent of her swirled around him, sweet and spicy all at the same time. He was supposed to rely on Lilly to save him?
She licked her lips with the tip of her red tongue and blinked her big apple-green eyes. Her unconsciously sexy motions made his stomach flip-flop.
In front of a camera, with Maddox the Menace? Even more people would be watching him. He shrugged her hand off his shoulder. “No thanks.”
Undeterred, she leaned across Justin’s lap so she could peer up at Kevin; her short skirt rode up her thighs, almost to the bottom of the curves of her heart-shaped behind. He lifted his hands over his head, swallowed, and inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume.
She was trying to kill him.
She had to be. No one could act like Lilly, and talk like Lilly, and be completely unaware of their actions.
Then again, he’d always called her Maddox the Menace for a reason. Now he just had a new one. She was gorgeous, and a menace to his self-control.
His heart thumped and his skin tingled. Either he was attracted to her or he was allergic to her. Maybe both—and both, equally bad. He couldn’t be attracted to Lilly; she was his sister’s best friend. It was all kinds of awkward wrapped up in a pretty package.
Still, she did a great job of playing oblivious as she asked Kevin, “So…you have to ride with him all the time? How do you stay so cheerful?”
“I know, right? Glad you’re giving me the week off.” He grinned.
Justin wondered if O’Rourke could see down her dress, too. Maybe he was gawking at that same peek of pink lace. “I’ll have to come up with a way to pay you back for the break,” Kevin said.
No way. Justin wanted to punch him. He could only imagine what O’Rourke would come up with. Instead, he moved his body to block the view down Lilly’s dress. “Don’t you have some candy canes to fling? Step away from the car before I run you over.” He rolled the window up in Kevin’s face. “Asswipe.” Then he nudged Lilly with his arm. “Buckle up.”
Lilly leaned back, took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Listen, I really need you to be a great Santa. Not just for the public relations aspect of the piece—though, yes, that’s important. We want you to be the face of the police department, the one people think of when they think officer or cop. But we want children and their parents to know that the police are our friends.”
Justin frowned. “Being Santa is the way to do that?”
“One of the ways, yes. But beyond that, my career hinges on getting it done right.”
“On this?” He pinched at the fabric of the Santa suit.
Lilly nodded so forcefully, the bells on her hat jingled. “There are two of us freelancers working this story. But only one of us is going to get the full-time job at the end. It’s like an audition—how well we interview, gather information, and shape a story. As if my portfolio doesn’t speak for itself. It’s important that we work together to make this the best holiday coverage ever.”
He stared at her. “You’re serious. A fluff piece like this?”
She shrugged with another jingle. “I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a spot open and they want to fill it by the start of the new year, and we’re both equally qualified, so we’ve both got equally viewer-friendly stories to cover. That’s how they choose between us. Who gets the better story and the better ratings.” Lilly sighed. “If you can’t do it for me, can you do it for…your mom? And your sister? If I get the job, I can live here again. I just want to settle down in a place that feels like home. I’m tired of traveling, you know? And…I miss family. Like your mom.”
Mom. She’d missed Lilly intensely. “All right. I’ll do it. For my mom.” Crap. Always the hero. He nodded, but held up his hand. “But don’t think I’m happy about it.”
The back door opened and the car rocked as Cisco jumped in with a rush of cold air. He slammed the door and sat there with his camera pointed at them. “What’s up? What did I miss?”
Lilly turned to Cisco. “Just catching up. Turns out Officer Weaver and I are old friends. Isn’t that right, Justin?”
“Yeah. Friends.” Maybe.
…
Lilly fished through her bag for her tablet. Business. Focus on business.
Hard to do when your heart’s pounding so fast you can barely think.
Face it, Lilly. You’re sunk.
She couldn’t figure it out. Justin had been her friend, sort of, before her parents had sent her to Tabor-Frenchy. Hannah had understood. Why couldn’t he?
Because he was stubborn, that was why. He’d always been stubborn. And cranky besides. The big doofus. But that was then, and this was now, and she wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand on her. He might be big, broad, and intimidating—even in a cheap velveteen Santa suit—but there was nothing he could do to stop her from getting the piece she needed or the job she wanted. He could glower and complain until next Christmas; she wasn’t backing down.
And right now, she needed to get Justin ready for his speech. She sat up and looked at him. “You sounded surprised when—Kevin?—told you you’re supposed to speak to the crowd. We were planning to get that on camera. Is it going to be a problem? You’re not going to freeze on me, are you?”
“No,” Justin muttered. “I…yes. Look at me. This is humiliating.”
“You look like Santa. What could be better? Think of it this way, you’re doing it for the kids. You’re going to make all their dreams come true
. Put your hat back on.”
“It itches.” He cringed. “I think I’m allergic to mistletoe. I even have a hive on my forehead.”
She held out her hand. “Cisco, give me that hat. I’ll move the swag so it doesn’t touch Justin’s skin.”
Justin muttered under his breath as she re-pinned the sprig of mistletoe so it didn’t hang on his forehead and handed it to him. “There. That’s better. Now put it on.”
“Here. Don’t forget this.” Cisco held up a flash of white.
“I knew something was missing. Your beard!”
“My sanity.” Justin jammed the hat onto his head.
Lilly couldn’t help but grin; he looked so miserable and adorable. It reminded her of the times she’d harass him just to make his ears turn red. “You’re cute when you’re cranky,” she told him without thinking.
“Thanks.” Justin held out his hand without looking into the back. “Gimme the beard.”
Cisco handed it over. Justin hooked the wires of the beard over his ears, making spitting noises as pieces of acrylic white hair got into his mouth.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Lilly said. “Besides, you look so Santa-like in it. Not a sign of Justin Scrooge at all.”
He peered into the mirror. “I think I saw something moving.”
“Stop whining. That was your breath. You’re going to get out there and make those children believe you’re the real Santa.”
He lowered his eyebrows at her. “The real Santa doesn’t have things living in his beard.”
“All right. If not for the kiddies, do it for the mommies. I’m telling you, you’ve got to be the sexiest Santa these suburbanite soccer moms have ever seen.”
