He took a slow sip of his coffee. “Yeah?”
“I need you,” she bellowed, sounding breathless.
He choked on the hot liquid.
Good line. It had been too long since a woman told him that, but this was a first. Never had it come from one painted like a smurf. Not that he didn’t know that below the mask was a pretty face. And while he wouldn’t mind another peek behind the robe, he’d seen and appreciated her body numerous times—from his side of the street, and with her clothes on, of course.
Well, he’d undressed her in his mind on more than one occasion, but that didn’t count.
The temptation to cross the street and introduce himself had crossed his mind. But logic had intervened. ‘Never get your meat where you get your bread.’ Meaning, don’t date anyone at work. And while he didn’t work with her, he was sure there was some kind of clever idiom about not sleeping with your neighbor. Maybe, ‘Don’t shit in your own backyard.’ That would work.
As pretty as she was, that had bad idea written all over it. Not that he’d had any other ideas lately. It had been a long time since . . . His gaze shifted back to the V at her neckline.
Another cold wind blew past her. He relented, and still holding the mug, he crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need?” He knew damn well what she was going to say. But part of him liked having her on his doorstep — even if it wasn’t going to lead anywhere.
She hesitated. “You’re a cop.”
Yeah, that he was. And a plainclothes cop. So how the hell did she know about that? This was a prime example of why he hadn’t gotten to know his neighbors. He didn’t want them coming to him with their speeding tickets and crap. He frowned. So she thought he could flash his badge and prevent Santa from impounding her car.
She thought wrong. He wasn’t even working for Piperville Police Department. He and his partner had recently transferred from Houston to a smaller precinct, Attalla, where they’d both been hired on as Homicide. They’d gotten bored of chasing robbers, and thought murderers would be more interesting.
“Santa Claus is stealing my car.” She pointed across the street.
Maybe she’d been a bad girl. “Are you behind on your payments?”
“I don’t owe payments on it.” She sighed. “It appears my ex-husband got a loan using the title, but the car belongs to me, so legally, if they take the car, they’re stealing it.”
He looked across the street then back to her. “Was the car in his name?”
She drew in a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. The courts gave it me.”
He frowned. “It matters. I’m sure your lawyer told you to get the legal documents changed over.”
She glanced back at Santa hooking up her car. He caught another peek at the opening of the robe. Was she . . . naked beneath that thing? Things in his boxers started to twitch. Yup, it had been too long since he’d allowed himself some temporary company. The fact that he always went for the temporary kind was another point to why playing with the neighbor wasn’t a good idea.
She turned back to him. “I pay city taxes and you work for the city. You have to stop him.”
Right there, that’s the reason he didn’t get to know his neighbors, so how the hell . . . “I’m a homicide detective. If you had a dead body, I’d be your man. But I don’t deal with the car repos. I don’t even work for this city.”
She inhaled. “Well, there’s going to be a dead body if you don’t stop him, because I’m either going to kill Santa or I’m killing my ex.”
Desperation shined in her blue eyes, eyes that looked brighter due to her blue face. Frowning, he walked over to the sofa and snagged his leather jacket, and slipped it on. “All I can do is check if he has the proper paperwork. If he does, you’re on your own.”
He was right. She was on her own. As Santa drove off with her silver Honda, Savanna Edwards couldn’t have looked unhappier. Or bluer. A couple of tears ran down her blue cheeks. But damn he hated seeing a woman cry, even a smurf woman.
And then bam! Just like that, he felt bad. He couldn’t have stopped Santa, but damn it. Did he have to be so callous? Christ! Was he turning into his parents? Afraid to feel any empathy for fear someone would use it against him?
It wasn’t her fault he’d been in a bad mood for two years. Or that during that time he’d only gotten laid a few times. And none of them had even been particularly good. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she spoke first.
“Thanks for nothing!” She stormed back inside her house, slamming the door in her wake.
He sighed. “Merry Christmas.”
• • •
Three hours later, Savanna, parked her rental car in front of Juan’s Place, to meet her friends for their bi-monthly get-together. She’d almost canceled and spent her Saturday buried in her bed keeping her cat company. But since she’d reneged on going on the girl’s annual Vegas trip, Bethany, one of her best friends, had threatened to kidnap her if she didn’t show. Bethany, a criminal lawyer, didn’t make idle threats.
So here Savanna was, pissy mood and all, about to meet her best buds and send them off on a three-day trip without her. Well, at least two of them were best buds. Bethany and Jennifer had been in her life since junior high. Mandy, an acquaintance of Bethany, had joined the group more recently.
“What are you driving?” Bethany, the only redhead in the group, asked, as Savanna dropped into a chair.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Spanish Christmas music blared from above and someone with ADD had strung twinkling lights from every place stringable.
“Okay.” Jennifer’s shrug sent her brown ponytail bobbing off her shoulders.
“It’s not okay,” Mandy insisted. “We tell each other everything. I even told you about my new boyfriend’s fascination with—”
“And we didn’t have to know about that,” Bethany said. “Now every time I see him, I get this visual of him . . . doing it.”
Savanna swallowed. “If you must know, Santa stole my car.”
“Santa?” Mandy asked.
“Yeah.” She waved down Leonardo, the waiter.
“Do you mean that metaphorically or literally?” Mandy asked.
“Don’t push her,” Bethany said. “You see that forehead wrinkle? When she has that, you don’t pry. She’ll tell us in her own time. She always does.”
Savanna rubbed her forehead. “Is it too early for margaritas?”
“This must be serious,” Jennifer said.
Savanna slumped back in her chair. “If I get drunk, will one of you drive me home?”
“Of course we will,” Bethany said. “You did it for me when I got my divorce.”
“Fine.” Savanna motioned at Leonardo again.
He offered her a fluttery wave as if to say he’d be over shortly.
“Okay.” Jennifer looked at Mandy, who was now working for a manufacturing business. Mandy, blond and pretty, had cut her hair short to downplay her femininity because of her job. “Finish what you were saying about turtle doves.”
Mandy sat up and continued, “Well, each department was asked to choose one of the twelve days of Christmas to decorate our department. Mr. Pancy, my boss, wanted to go with the Nine Ladies Dancing. The guy’s such a pervert he considered hiring nine strippers. I argued that the doves would be the best choice. I mean, who doesn’t love doves? They are beautiful, make cooing noises, and did you know they’re monogamous?”
“Monogamous?” Savanna asked.
“Yeah. Isn’t that romantic?” Mandy answered.
“Please,” Savanna said. “You can’t tell me that there’s not a male dove somewhere who thinks he has bigger beak, and isn’t strutting his stuff in front of some younger, hot-looking dove and saying, ‘Hey baby, come to my nest and let me ruffle your feathers while my wife is off taking care of her sick mama!’”
“So it’s about Clint?” Bethany looked back at Mandy. “Told you she’d tell us.”
“But I thought you said you did
n’t love him anymore.” Mandy sounded concerned.
“I don’t love him!” Savanna snapped. “He used the title of the Honda to get a loan, and didn’t pay it. I’m soaking in the tub with my blue mask on when a wrecker driver dressed like Santa pulls up and starts hooking up my car to take it away.”
“You didn’t get the title turned over to your name after the divorce?” Bethany asked.
Savanna shook her head. “I know I was supposed to. It was on my list to do, but—”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Jennifer said. “Grief screws you up.” Jennifer who’d lost her mom when she was sixteen was still grief stricken. But then again, Savanna could understand. Losing your mom sucked.
“I can’t believe Clint did that!” Bethany seethed.
“I can,” Mandy added.
“I told that asshole what would happen if he messed with you again!” Vengeance, the kind she used in the courtroom, tightened Bethany’s tone.
Savanna rested her palm on Bethany’s hand. “It’s not your fault.” Because Clint was Bethany’s cousin, and the one who’d introduced them, Bethany felt responsible. “I married the jerk. You even warned me.”
“Give me the information and I’ll look into it,” Bethany said. “I swear, I’ll chew his ass up one side and down the other in court! He’ll pay for this.”
Savanna reached into her purse and pulled out the paperwork. “Here’s everything Santa gave me.”
Bethany looked at the paperwork. “Is the guy’s last name really Claus?” She grabbed her phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Claus,” she said,” this is Bethany Carver. I’m Savanna Edwards’ lawyer. Can you tell me . . .”
“Only five more days till Christmas. ” Leonardo popped over to the table. “Have you beautiful bitches decided what you want for Christmas yet?”
“I want a body lift,” Jennifer said.
“Your body is tight,” Leonardo said.
Mandy huffed. “I want my new boyfriend to stop lighting up his farts.”
Bethany, still talking to Santa, held up her hand. All eyes went to Savanna. “I want my ex dead with a ribbon tied around his pecker!” She frowned when she realized she’d said it too loud. Laughter filled the restaurant.
“Sorry.” Savanna looked up at the waiter and Bethany moving away from the table. “Can I have a margarita?”
Leonardo chuckled. “Honey, you don’t have to explain. I’ve had more than one guy break my heart, too. Men can be evil creatures. But we still love ’em, don’t we?”
Right then, Bethany returned. “Okay, I’ve officially started working on the case.” She frowned. “Unfortunately, I can’t promise how long it will take or even if I can get your car back. It’s already been turned over to Title Mama.”
“What are you going to do about a car?” Jennifer asked.
Savanna let out a gulp of air. “I guess I’ll have to use the money from the life insurance.”
“She’d want you to use it,” Bethany said.
“I know, it’s just . . .” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s been over a year, and I should so be over this.”
Jennifer leaned closer. “You don’t just get over your mom dying. Plus you lost your mom and your marriage the same day. That’s a double whammy.”
Savanna took a deep breath. “I thought I was over the whole Clint thing and . . .” She shook her head. “I am over him. I don’t love him. I’m just mad. And . . . using the money doesn’t feel right.”
“Have you been to her gravesite and talked to her like I told you to?” Jennifer asked.
“No.” Savanna’s lips trembled.
Bethany leaned her shoulder into Savanna’s. “Your mom had the insurance for ten years. It was to take care of you. You shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“I know that here,” Savanna pointed to her head. “I just don’t know it here.” She put a hand over her heart.
“Maybe this will help!” the deep, slightly accented voice said. “It’s on the house.” Juan, the owner of the restaurant, a tall, dark and gorgeous man, set a frozen margarita in front of her. “You know, Savanna, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” He smiled. “Maybe not kill your ex and tie a ribbon around a certain body part, but I would hire it to be done if you wanted me to.”
They all laughed, Savanna included. Juan had asked her out a while back, but Savanna had told him she wasn’t ready to date. Sadly, it wasn’t altogether true. She was ready, or close to it, just not with him.
“I’d do it for her,” Bethany said. “And I’d tie that ribbon in a tight bow!”
“Remind me never to make you mad,” Juan said and grinned at Bethany.
They all laughed again and the pressure in Savanna’s chest lightened. Nothing like being with her friends. And even knowing a handsome guy was interested made her feel . . . Well, it boosted her ego, but unfortunately her ego was the only part of her the hot Latin guy affected. He was like looking at a piece of calorie-laden dessert with fancy frosting. One that she didn’t particularly like all that much. It was pretty to look at it, but didn’t tempt her.
When Juan left, Jennifer crossed her hands over her chest. “I think you should come to Vegas with us. Forget about this and let’s go have fun.”
Savanna shook her head. “I can’t. Especially now.”
“I told you I’d spot you a loan until you decide to use the money,” Bethany said.
“No,” Savanna said.
Bethany’s gaze shifted to the bar. She leaned in and whispered. “Okay, stay home and go out with Juan. Seriously, I’d date him for his butt alone.”
“We’d probably get free food and margaritas,” Mandy said.
“He’s hot,” Jennifer said. “And that voice . . . I could come just listening to him talk.”
Savanna spoke low. “I just don’t feel the spark.”
“Divorce impairs your sparking abilities,” Bethany said. “Sometimes it takes being recharged.” She glanced back to the bar. “And Juan looks like he has recharging potential.”
“Oh, my sparking abilities are working.” Savanna sipped her margarita, remembering how good her neighbor had looked. “I went to my neighbor begging for help this morning. You know, the good looking blond, green-eyed cop I told you about. Well, even during a crisis, I was sparking all over the place. The guy answered the door without a shirt on and he looked like he walked off a magazine ad. I thought six packs like his were air brushed. But nope.”
“Wait,” Mandy said. “He’s a cop but he didn’t stop Santa from stealing your car?”
“I said he had nice abs, not that he was nice. He looked at the guy’s paperwork and didn’t do a damn thing.”
“In his defense,” Bethany said, “he couldn’t do anything if the paperwork was in order. But I’m glad you said he was there. If I need a witness that you told the guy it was your car, he’ll do just fine.”
“I’m not sure he’d testify for me. Really, he was . . . almost a jerk. He could’ve at least pretended to be sympathetic.”
“The good-looking ones are assholes,” Mandy said. “Look at Clint.”
Savanna frowned. “Please, don’t give Clint an easy out. He’s not even that good looking.”
“I don’t think Clint’s hot at all,” Bethany said.
“That’s because he’s your cousin,” Mandy said. “He’s just a good-looking asshole,” she said with surprising conviction.
Bethany’s phone rang. She looked at her screen. “Hmm, it’s Santa again.”
“Tell him all I want for Christmas is my car back,” Savanna said.
Chapter Two
“What are you doing here?”
Mark looked up from his desk at his partner, Jake Baldwin, propped against the doorjamb. “I could ask you the same question. What? Did Macy already kick your ass out?” His gaze went back to the computer as the information filled the screen. “I told you she was too good for you.”
“Only because you wanted her for yourself,” Jake shot back.
<
br /> “If I really wanted her, I’d have taken her,” Mark teased then refocused on the screen.
“How’s that? I’m better looking than you, and your bank account wouldn’t have impressed her.”
“And that’s why I liked her,” Mark muttered in humor, as he continued to read. Besides a couple of outstanding speeding tickets, the cops had gone to the guy’s house on a domestic violence call last month. The girlfriend, an Amanda Adams, had refused to press charges.
“I swear, you make being rich sound so hard,” Jake said.
“It’s being rich and so damn good looking that’s tough,” he said and leaned back in his chair. “Where is your better half?”
“At a baby shower.” Jake walked in and leaned against Mark’s desk. “I went by your house to see if you wanted to shoot some hoops. When you weren’t there I thought I’d come here and catch up on some paperwork.”
“You should’ve called,” Mark said.
“I was hoping you had a hot date and I didn’t want to interfere.” Jake gazed at the computer. “What’s this about?”
“Just looking into something for a neighbor.”
“Savanna?”
Mark eyed him. “How do you know—?”
“I stopped by your house a couple weeks ago and you weren’t there. She was mowing her lawn. We struck up a conversation.”
Mark’s mind went to the time he’d watched her mow the lawn. It’d been right after they’d both moved in . . . over the summer. She’d been wearing shorts and a bathing suit top. He’d gotten a beer and sat by the window to enjoy the view.
He glanced up at Jake. “You’re married.”
“I talked to her, I didn’t ask her out. I even hinted she should meet you.”
Mark frowned. “You told her I’m a cop. You’re the reason she came banging on my door!”
“Excuse me for sending a pretty woman your way.”
“She’s my neighbor,” Mark said.
“So?”
“You don’t shit in your own backyard.”
The Cop Who Stole Christmas (Tall, Hot & Texan) Page 2
