On the Naughty List

by Lori Foster

  “Food.”

  “Something you ate?”

  She nodded, flushed the toilet, then reached around and nabbed the rag, wiping it across her mouth. “This,” she croaked as she slumped back against him, “is mortifying.”

  “I’ve seen you puke before.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.”

  Zach held her steady while she caught her breath. Yeah. He’d seen her like this on various occasions, but almost all of those instances had been triggered by an emotional response to an ugly situation, not bad food. “Did you eat too much or was something tainted?”

  “What is this? The Inquisition?”

  “Not nearly as gruesome.”

  She pushed away from him, then pushed to her feet. She swung to the sink and washed her face, brushed her teeth. She opened the medicine cabinet.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Pepto? TUMS?”

  Zach dipped into his jacket pocket and passed her a half-used roll of antacids. His own stomach had been giving him fits for weeks. “Want some ginger ale?” he asked as she popped two tabs of the chalky white stuff.

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Meet me in the living room.”

  Zach’s mind raced as he leaned on his walking stick and hurried (as much as he could) into the kitchen. There was nothing sexy about a woman hurling in the toilet. Yet he’d been more attracted to Maya in the last five minutes than he’d been to Giselle in the last five hours.

  Giselle—exotic perfection.

  Maya—a sweet mess.

  As if life weren’t complicated enough, Zach was confused by his reaction to both women. He’d spent months lusting after Giselle, albeit long-distance. In person, there’d been no spark at all. Yet he was suddenly and intensely hot for Maya, his longtime platonic friend.

  Zach filled two tumblers with ginger ale, then eyed the walking stick he’d propped against the counter, gauging his ability to carry two glasses one-handed. “Screw it.”

  Leaving the stick behind, he made his way to the living room. He wouldn’t win any trophies for a sexy swagger, but he didn’t falter or spill their drinks. Oorah, he thought. Which made him think of the Marines. Which made him think of Ben.

  Damn.

  Maya had been pissed when Zach had refused to let her in on why he was no longer military. Had she investigated on her own? Snooped around online?

  Hell.

  “Here you go.”

  Maya, who’d curled into the corner of the sofa, reached out and took her glass. “Thank you.”

  “Sure.” He knew she’d watched him limp into the living room. It was hell on his pride, but he’d just seen her hugging the toilet. Maybe that made them even. Funny that it made him smile. He hitched back his jacket and sank next to Maya. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he focused on the twinkling lights adorning the massive tree. “Every year Uncle Dan buys the biggest spruce he can find and Aunt Helen still has two to three boxes of untapped decorations.”

  “I think it’s sweet that she’s collected so many ornaments over the years. And there’s a story behind each one. I was telling G…” Maya’s gaze flicked toward the garland-laced stairway. “Where is she anyway?”

  Zach tensed. “Giselle’s still at the Shack.”

  Enjoying the lively atmosphere and the attentive company of the popular pub. Without him.

  “You abandoned her?”

  “You know me better than that.” He always left with the girl he came with. When he was a young boy, Zach’s mom had drilled a lot of things into his head. Good manners and being respectful of women topped the list.

  Maya sighed. “I know G, too. I’m guessing she wanted to party after hours and you didn’t. I’m guessing she made fast friends with a few people and told you not to worry, she’d find a ride home or call a cab.”

  “Adam Brody offered to see her home. He’s a good guy.” Adam was also tight with Nash Bentley, a local pilot and a trusted acquaintance of Zach’s. Nash, who’d been drinking beer on the next bar stool over, had heard Giselle giving Zach a kind but definite brush-off. After, Nash had nudged Zach, assuring him that the woman was safe with Adam. “I’m not worried,” Zach said honestly. Otherwise, he would have hung out even though he’d been jilted. “Giselle said she’d text you.”

  “She probably did. My phone’s upstairs.” Maya shifted, looking increasingly uncomfortable as she sipped her soda. “I can’t believe G blew you off.”

  “She wasn’t rude about it and I don’t blame her.” After two games of pool he’d grown tired of the jovial company. Even after three beers, he’d still felt wound tight. Everyone else, including Giselle, had grown more animated and talkative as the liquor flowed and the night stretched on.

  Not Zach.

  He’d been withdrawn whereas Giselle was all about cutting loose.

  “We’re in two different places,” he said.

  “Did you click at all?” Maya asked without meeting his gaze.

  “Not like I thought we would.” They’d spent the first hour talking about Maya. How they’d both met her and how their friendships had evolved. At one point Giselle had mentioned how Maya had seemed distracted and even a little melancholy this past year, which Zach couldn’t imagine because Maya was the most focused and intense optimist he’d ever known.

  He’d been shocked to learn Maya rarely dated although she’d had an on-again, off again relationship with a real-estate agent who was crazy about her. Some even-keeled, benevolent dude named Charlie. Successful and nice, according to Giselle, but boring. Which meant the man was grounded and played life safe, which meant he was perfect for Maya. So why hadn’t they hooked up on a more permanent basis? She was definitely the marrying kind. The happily ever after, white picket fence, and kids kind. Was Charlie waffling on committing? Was Maya hung up on him? Hence their on/off history? If that was the case then Charlie was an imbecile. Every man should be lucky enough to have a girl like Maya Templeton.

  They may have only corresponded sporadically over the last several years, but Zach had known Maya his entire lifetime. She was sunshine and rainbows, everything bright and hopeful, everything good, which was maybe why he’d never gone out of his way to visit with her, even when he was furloughed. She’d said he was always welcome, but stepping into her cheery, dewy-eyed world took him out of his comfort zone. Her name alone had reminded him of things he’d missed, things he’d chosen not to pursue, a home he’d left. She represented the innocent time in his life, something quickly gone once he’d shipped out. He’d chosen that solitary path, and as long as he’d known he was protecting people back home, good people like Maya, it was all worth it.

  Except now he was back and Maya was in his face. In his blood. One hug, one punch in the shoulder, and she’d sparked a sexual yearning that raged stronger by the hour. Zach had felt uncomfortable prying Giselle for deeper details regarding Maya’s feelings for that real-estate agent, so instead he’d subtly pumped Giselle for updates on Maya’s life in general, although maybe he hadn’t been subtle at all. Giselle’s attention had started to drift to the plasma screens and pool table, and Zach had scrambled to turn his focus back on her.

  Too little, too late, and a definite disconnect. The conversation with Giselle quickly tanked. Zach’s attempts to introduce pieces of their long-distance correspondence had bombed. Giselle shouldn’t have felt like a stranger, but she did. The fire that had burned between them via the written word was ash. He assumed Giselle’s lack of interest was due to his lack of uniform and his damned bum leg. He’d expected disinterest on her side. But not on his. She was Playboy-bunny hot and he hadn’t felt even a twinge of lust.

  On the other hand, Zach had it bad for the woman sitting next to him, a woman dressed in soft pink fleece bottoms and an oversized sweatshirt featuring Sleeping Beauty. Or maybe it was Snow White. Unlike Maya, Zach had never been able to keep those Disney heroines straight. Unlike Maya, he’d never been a fan of fairy tales or a hard-core dreamer.

&
nbsp; Zach had always been a realist. Now he was a realist and a cynic.

  Early on, Zach had been inspired to serve in the military. In school he’d sucked in science, but he’d excelled in history. He knew the politics, the necessities and atrocities of war. He understood the need to protect and preserve. To fight for the persecuted. To combat evil. He’d joined the Marine Corps to honor his dad and grandfather, both Devil Dogs. He’d entered the sniper program because his uncle had taught him to hunt and he’d always been a crack shot. He’d been the best of the best, and it hadn’t been enough.

  “Whatever happened over there,” Maya said as if reading his mind, “maybe you’d feel better if you talked about it. Letting it fester can’t be good.”

  “You sound like a shrink, and I’ve already been down that road.”

  “I just want you to know … I’m here. If you ever want to talk about what happened.”

  Zach was pretty sure she already knew at least part of what had happened. He’d bet his last dime she’d learned about Ben’s death and the partial circumstances. Then, being an imaginative person, she’d spun all sorts of ugly scenarios, filling in her own grisly details until she’d made herself sick.

  Zach’s chest grew tight, as he knew she was willing to endure his personal nightmare in hopes of making him feel better. Knowing the truth of it, even if he skated over graphic descriptions, would make her ill. Maya wasn’t cut out for the ugliness in the world. He’d always been simultaneously charmed and frustrated by that.

  Right now, he wanted to make sure she didn’t go to bed harboring whatever scenarios she’d cooked up. He wanted to replace fear and death with cheer and hope. Zach set aside his soda and shrugged out of his suit coat. “I’m too wired to sleep. How’d you feel about a movie?”

  She drew her knees up to her chest. “What kind of movie?”

  “A Christmas movie.”

  “You hate Christmas movies.”

  “Only the sappy ones.”

  Her lip twitched, drawing his attention to her mouth. “They’re all sappy,” she said with a half grin.

  He wanted to kiss her.

  A wisp of panic, something he rarely experienced, heightened his senses. Would she stop him? Encourage him? Would it taint their friendship? Spark something deeper? That thought alone scared the devil out of him.

  Tempering his runaway thoughts, Zach nabbed the remote and flipped through channels. He stopped on one of the many versions of Scrooge or A Christmas Carol. Whatever it was called. The one starring those dopey-faced Muppets. It was as close as he could find to Disney. The frog was mid-song, a chipper melody that made Zach swallow a groan. They’d missed the beginning, but Zach didn’t figure Maya cared. She’d probably seen this movie a million times. “How about this one?”

  “Not too sappy,” she said with a smile that tripped his pulse. “Perfect.”

  Battening down his lustful impulses, Zach opened his arm and motioned her closer. She snuggled against him and his heart hammered like a mother. Yup. Perfect. Perfectly screwed up. And for tonight, perfectly welcome.

  Chapter Five

  “Deck the halls with boughs of holly—”

  “I’m going to deck you with this pillow if you don’t shut up.” Giselle rolled onto her stomach with a groan and buried her face in the potential fluffy weapon.

  “Not my fault you have a hangover, Miss Grumpy Pants.” Maya donned one of her favorite holiday cardigans (the one featuring each of Santa’s reindeer, including Rudolph and his glowing nose), squelching the urge to break into even louder song. That would be cruel. Not that Giselle didn’t deserve some grief. “What time did you roll in anyway?” Physically and emotionally exhausted, Maya had been asleep.

  Giselle mumbled into the pillow.

  “Seriously? Four a.m.?” Maya pulled on the insulated boots she kept specifically for winter visits to Vermont. “What were you and Adam doing until … Scratch that. I don’t want to know.”

  “Good. Going back to sleep now.”

  “But it’s Christmas Eve morning.”

  “Bah humbug.”

  “You don’t mean that.” Maya’s cheeks warmed as she remembered the way she’d cuddled on the couch with Zach while Michael Caine as Ebenezer Scrooge endured the antics of Victorian-clothed Muppets, not to mention visits from three ghosts, four if you counted his business partner. She still couldn’t believe Zach had sat through the entire musical adaptation without making fun of it even once. He didn’t even roll his eyes during Tiny Tim’s famous God bless us, everyone.

  Maya had looked.

  Instead, Zach had smiled and winked down at her, and her stomach had flipped. In a good way. Not in a nauseous way. She didn’t even want to think about what had ravaged her stomach last night. She’d lied to Zach saying food was the culprit because she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t bear the truth of his situation. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know details. Just imagining what Zach had seen and endured twisted her every which way and inside out.

  Instead, she preferred to dwell on his kindness and the way her pulse had skipped when he’d held her close and kissed the top of her head. He’d done that before. Strictly platonic. But last night it had felt different.

  At least for Maya.

  For the first time in days, her mind flew to Charlie, her sometimes boyfriend. Right now they were in the friend phase, only he wanted much more. The problem was, so did Maya. Charlie was everything she hoped for in a life partner—kind, hardworking, reliable, fun, and optimistic. He was successful, too. But he’d never made her pulse skip or her heart flutter. The missing chip. A chip she’d found with her best friend, of all people. A man who lived life on the dark and dangerous side. Not Maya’s cup of tea, but a wonderful blend of person all the same. Any woman would be lucky to have Zachery Cole.

  Tying off her laces, she rose and clomped over to the other twin bed. The one occupied by her partner, her friend, and, at this particular moment, a Scrooge. “How could you dump Zach like that?”

  Giselle growled into the pillow, then showed at least half of her mascara-smudged face. “I didn’t dump him. I gave him an out. Zach was miserable. He didn’t want to be at the Shack with me. He wanted to be here with you.”

  “Get … out.”

  “Would you? Please?”

  “He said he wanted to be with me?”

  “He didn’t have to. He talked about you incessantly. How you met. What great pals you were. He must’ve told me a dozen different stories about one of the two of you bailing the other out of some or another jam. Blah, blah, blah. Then he asked me about our relationship—yours and mine. Our business and whatnot. When talk turned to me specifically…” She grunted. “Let’s just say, our time together roared downhill faster than a high-speed roller coaster.”

  Maya frowned, going on sudden and unexpected defense for Giselle. “What? He didn’t think you were interesting? You’re one of the most fascinating people I know!”

  “Shh. Not so loud.” Giselle covered her eyes with her arm. “Thank you for that, by the way. But we never really got to talking about the real me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He kept referring to the letters, Maya. The e-mails. Mostly your thoughts. Or my thoughts but written in your words. I didn’t realize I’d feel so bad about duping him. I felt awkward and pretty much fumbled the conversation. That’s when I pushed to play a game of pool. I thought if we met some other people I’d feel more comfortable and then Zach would get a chance to know the real me. Only that didn’t work out either. The more I loosened up the more he shut down. Not for anything, but that man is broody with a capital B.”

  The same word Helen had used to describe Zach. Huh. Zach hadn’t struck Maya as broody. Then again, he’d been working hard to lighten Maya’s own mood. Just now she was fixated on something else Giselle had said. “‘Dupe’ is a strong word, don’t you think?”

  “Pretty sure it’s the correct word for what we did.”

  “
You didn’t tell him, right?”

  “And make him feel like a fool? The man’s suffering from a war wound. I don’t intend to add insult to injury.”

  Maya’s stomach clenched as she picked at the hem of her cheery sweater. “Did he tell you how he got hurt?”

  “No. You?”

  “No.”

  Maya’s mind twisted with several thoughts. Her own unexpected attraction to Zach aside, had she unwittingly ruined a potentially wonderful thing between her old best friend and her new best friend. As most of the Cupcake Lovers had pointed out, Zach and Giselle were indeed a physically striking couple. If Zach had truly wanted to be with Maya last night, in a sexual way, as G had intimated, wouldn’t he have made some sort of move? Kissing her head didn’t count, did it?

  All sorts of confused, Maya rocked back on her Trekkers. All she wanted for anyone ever, and especially for friends and family, was a charmed life and a happily ever after.

  “Are you sure you won’t join us for breakfast?” Maya asked.

  “Are you still here?”

  “The Coles always start holiday mornings with a scrumptious breakfast. Apple Cinnamon Pancakes with real butter and tons of pure Vermont maple syrup. Piles of crispy bacon—”

  “Do you want me to hurl?”

  “And then they do this old-fashioned sleigh ride which I think you’d really like—”

  “Don’t take this wrong, Maya, but get lost.”

  Maya knew Giselle well enough not to take the dismissal personally. Still, Maya felt awkward about the whole triangle thing and would feel better if G provided Zach with another chance to know her for real. Maya just wanted Zach to be happy. He deserved to be happy. And maybe reckless, carefree, absurdly beautiful Giselle (just Giselle) was the ticket. There had to be some sort of cosmic revelation, a Christmas miracle even, in the works. Everything was just too weird otherwise.