The Cop Who Stole Christmas (Tall, Hot & Texan)

by Christie Craig

  “Hard call,” Jake said. “I do like glory.” He frowned. “Hell, let’s do the right thing.”

  • • •

  Mark and Jake went back to the precinct and dressed in vests. Considering this guy had killed two people, they decided to take precautions. Mark felt like it was a bit overkill since the weapon of choice from the jolly ol’ man was a knife and not a gun. But Jake argued that most wrecker drivers carried guns so Mark conceded. Better safe than sorry.

  They met Hinkle and his partner Rodriguez in front of the wrecker service. It was only six-thirty but the night had settled in. A wrecker pulled up right behind them, and the driver got out of his truck. It was Santa.

  Jake’s phone rang. “We’re taking the lead” Hinkle said.

  But right then the door to the office opened and out came two men dressed in red suits and wearing beards.

  “Ahh, shit!” Jake muttered. “They’re all dressed like Santa.”

  “So we just have to find the real one.” Hinkle said.

  Mark got out of the car, leery of the Santas in the parking lot.

  Jake fell in step beside him. Hinkle and his partner got out of their car and they all walked inside. Two other Santas were in the front office and one stood behind the counter.

  “I swear we’re not doing anything illegal,” one of the Jolly ol’ Souls said.

  Mark leaned in. “We’ve got two pick-ups that we think were done by the same guy. A Mustang, belonging to a Clint Edwards, and a truck belonging to a Nick Curley.”

  “You got dates?” Santa asked and started punching in a few buttons on his computer.

  “Clint Edwards was on Saturday the nineteenth. I’m unsure about the other.”

  He punched a few more buttons. “That would be Nicolas Clausell.”

  “Is Mr. Clausell working today?”

  “He’s out on a run.” Santa looked Mark up and down. “What did he do?”

  “We’re just wanting to talk to him,” Jake intervened.

  “Where’s this run at?” Mark asked.

  “Off fourth street. You want me to call him?”

  “No.” Mark leaned in closer. “What’s the address to that pick up?”

  The man spouted out the address. Jake scratched it down.

  “And if he calls, don’t mention us, either,” Mark said. “Is he due back here after he picks this one up?”

  “Should be, but lately he’s been doing some gigs as Santa for some department store across town. He’s been written up twice for missing runs.”

  “Do you have his home address?” Jake asked.

  Mark and Jake were going to the place where Mr. Clausell was supposed to be grabbing another vehicle. Hinkle and his partner were going to hang out there and they called for a car to go to Clausell’s address in case he went home.

  Mar k and Jake pulled up to the address on Fourth Street. Santa was connecting up the car and the owner was giving him hell.

  Mark looked at Jake. “You ready?” They both unsnapped their guns.

  They got out of their car. Santa glanced back at them and then refocused on the job at hand.

  Mark flashed his badge at the car’s owner and waved him back. The man must’ve sensed it was serious, because he did as requested.

  Santa must have sensed it was serious, too, because out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw him pull out a gun.

  Mark lifted his own weapon out of its holster. “Put it down.”

  “You put it down,” Santa snarled. “Or I’ll kill your partner.”

  Mark cut his gaze to Jake who stood without a weapon in his hand. Mark’s heart thumped in his chest.

  “Don’t use that line,” Jake said. “He doesn’t even like me that much. I ate his donut this morning.”.

  “You think this is funny?” Santa asked.

  “No, sir,” Mark said, his finger on the trigger, his breath in his throat. “No one’s laughing. We just want to talk to you.”

  “You think I don’t know why you’re here? But what you two don’t know is that those men deserved to die. They were no good bums, just like my dad was. They deserved what they got.”

  “I wouldn’t even argue with you on that point,” Mark said and eyed the man’s hand holding tight to his gun. “Look at me, sir. No one needs to get hurt here.”

  “Then drop your gun and I’ll drive away,” Santa said.

  Mark ignored that comment and asked, “Is there a Mrs. Clausell? Because if there is, I’ll bet she’s going to be upset when you get yourself hurt.”

  “I’m not the one who’s gonna be hurt!” Santa growled.

  “It’s almost Christmas,” Mark said. “Do you really want to ruin this season for everyone?”

  Santa looked at Mark. At least he wasn’t focusing on Jake anymore. But then the Jolly Ol’ Soul turned his gun on Mark. Mark fired, but obviously not soon enough. The pain knocked him flat on his back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Savanna kept looking out the window to see if Mark was home. He wasn’t. His “we’ll talk later,” obviously hadn’t meant tonight. He probably wasn’t coming home for fear she’d be waiting. Her heart ached. She felt like crying. Instead, she made her cup of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and drank it out of the broken cup. She watched Santa lose his pants, and she thought about her mom. Thought about her stupid rule of always, always having a Christmas tree.

  She climbed in the attic and pulled down her two-foot artificial tree. The lights were already on it, but she had to hang the ornaments. Ornaments she and her mom had used as a child. She cried a little, and laughed a little remembering all the Christmases of the past.

  When the tree was finished, she went to bed, curled up with Boots, and tossed and turned.

  Right before midnight she got out of bed and went to look out a window to see if his lights had come on yet. They hadn’t. He really didn’t want to see her.

  She swallowed a hard lump down her throat. Give it up! She went back to bed and laid there staring at the ceiling. She barely knew the guy. She shouldn’t feel so depressed.

  But she did know him. She knew his childhood of jetting off across the world had been less than perfect. She knew his driver had been more like a parent, and he’d even invested in his restaurant. Yet, Mark still cared enough for his parents that he’d met his mother for coffee. Savanna knew that his favorite candy was an odd flavor of jelly bean, and that he was funny and caring. She knew he was an amazing lover.

  That, however, was just the tip of the iceberg. She wanted to know more. She wanted to know it all. She wanted a chance with him.

  But she’d ruined that, hadn’t she?

  In the back of her mind, she heard one of the last things her mother had said to her. “If you want something, Savanna, go get it, don’t let anyone stop you.”

  Tears filled her eyes. She wasn’t a quitter. Tomorrow, when she got home from work, she’d go knock on his door. At the very least, he had to give her a chance to apologize for freaking out the way she did. And then . . . then maybe they could try again.

  • • •

  “You okay?” Jake asked when he walked in and Mark was rubbing his ribs.

  “Yeah, just bruised. I told you.”

  Right then, Logan, one of the night shift homicide cops stuck his head in the door. “You shot Santa Claus. Two days before Christmas and you shot the man. That’s priceless.”

  Mark frowned. “He shot first.” Thankfully, he’d had on a vest. But at that close range, he had some seriously bruised ribs.

  “I can’t wait until the news media gets ahold of this!” Logan said and left.

  Mark exhaled. The ribbing from the guys was bad enough, but that was nothing compared to what he’d hear from Washington. Only it wouldn’t be in fun. No doubt his dad was pacing and screaming and his mom was already trying to find a way to spin this into a positive piece of media. Then, on her dad’s orders, she would call him and give him hell. Remind him who he was, and how important it was to keep the family
name clean.

  He was so fucking tired of them worrying about the family name. When were they going to start worrying about each other? He thought of his mom, and her seeing a therapist. Was it really going to make a difference?

  “Don’t let them get to you,” Jake said. “I actually know the reason you took that bullet was to get it away from me. Which was stupid, by the way. I was wearing a vest, too, and I was about five feet farther away.”

  “You would’ve done the same thing,” Mark said.

  “No, I’d have shot his merry little ass a lot quicker.”

  Mark frowned. “You wouldn’t have.”

  Jake grinned.

  “Besides,” Mark said. “If you’d have taken a bullet and I’d had to tell Macy, she’d have killed me.”

  “It’s good to be loved that much,” Jake said with pride. “Speaking of which, I’d better get my ass home. I know she’s waiting up on me.” Jake rested a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

  Mark nodded. “Go home to Macy.”

  Jake walked out. Watching his friend and partner leave, Mark’s mind went to Savanna. He didn’t know her well enough to start thinking of that kind of relationship, but damn if he wasn’t ready to start down that road.

  He moved out to the parking lot at a slow pace, his ribs throbbing. Getting in the car hurt like hell. He hadn’t stopped moaning when his phone rang. “Hello, Mom,” he said not even checking the number.

  “How am I supposed to find a positive spin on you shooting Santa?”

  Mark was shocked. It wasn’t his mom, but his dad. Damn, what had happened? Had his mom stopped taking orders from the old man? Had his mom finally gotten the gall to tell the bastard to go screw himself? Oh, wait, he didn’t have to screw himself, he had several mistresses who took care of that.

  “How about that I shot him to stop him from shooting my partner, or that I shot him at the same time he shot me!”

  “You were shot?” his dad asked, but he didn’t sound concerned. More like he thought this might be the spin he needed.

  “Yes, but I was wearing a vest, thank you for your concern. Goodnight!” He hung up. He turned his phone off and then headed home.

  Fifteen minutes later, when he pulled in his driveway, he looked toward Savanna’s. What he wouldn’t give to just knock on her door and say, “I’m not sure I can have sex, but I’d love to sleep with you.” He was tired of sleeping alone, damnit! He wanted someone at his side. Someone who cared. Someone who gave a damn if he got shot or if he had bruised ribs.

  He let go of a deep breath and pulled into his garage. The next time he saw Savanna he needed to tell her he was sorry. They needed to talk. He wasn’t sure he had the energy to talk right now.

  • • •

  Savanna closed the flower shop at noon on Christmas Eve. She ran to the bank, moved some of her mom’s life insurance money into her regular account, then hit the streets and did a marathon shopping spree. She dropped five hundred dollars in the Gifts-for-Kids donation bucket. It might be late, but they could always use it for next year.

  She got her friends and herself three-day passes to one of the best spas in the Houston area. She got Boots a package of his favorite treats. Then she met Bethany and Jennifer for coffee where they exchanged gifts. Before it got too late, she hurried and bought Mark his Christmas present. Finally, she picked up a few things for herself: a new pair of jeans and red sweater, a pair of red heels, and the sexiest underwear she could find—three sets.

  Maybe it was the Christmas magic, but she felt positive. Hopeful. Hopeful she wouldn’t be the only one enjoying the underwear.

  As she pulled into her driveway around five, she noticed his light on in his living room.

  Her hope blossomed more. Okay . . . she needed to do a marathon shower, get dressed in her new outfit and underwear. She could only hope he didn’t have plans for the evening. And if he did, she’d do like she’d promised Bethany . . . she’d drive over to her place and spend it with Bethany and her parents. Face it, being alone on Christmas Eve was too sad.

  Packages in hand, she placed Mark’s gift under the tree. The little tree actually looked better with even one gift under it. She fed Boots, gave him a few strokes and a hug. Then, not wanting to chance Mark leaving, she ran into the shower.

  Ten minutes later, only wearing underwear and some makeup, she heard her doorbell.

  Her heart did a tumble. Could it be him? Haphazardly tying on her pink nubby robe, she tore off for the door.

  Remembering to look through the peephole first, she got up on her tiptoes and glanced out. It was him. Him, looking all wonderful.

  She yanked open the door, a big smile on her face. “Hey,” she said, noticing he held two gifts in his hands.

  “Hi.” He smiled. “You look as if you’re getting ready to go somewhere.”

  “I was,” she said.

  “Oh, well, I just wanted to give you . . .”

  “I was hoping to spend the evening with my neighbor.”

  His eyes widened and so did his smile. “Really?”

  “Yeah, well, if he didn’t have any plans.” She stepped back. “Wanna come in?”

  “Love to.” His eyes lowered and she knew her robe had probably come open and given him a peek at the red and black bra.

  His gaze went to the twinkling tree on the table against the wall. “You put up a Christmas tree.”

  She sighed. “My mom loved Christmas. She would have turned over in her grave if I hadn’t.”

  He smiled. “Can I put these there?”

  She watched him set the gifts on the table. “That’s your gift,” she said.

  He turned around. “You got me a gift?”

  She nodded. “Don’t act surprised. I’m assuming those are for me. Or am I wrong?”

  He grinned. “They’re for you. But only one’s from me. The other is . . . from my mom.”

  Savanna’s mouth dropped open. “Your mom got me something for Christmas?”

  “Yeah, surprised the hell out of me, too.” He walked over and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “We need to talk.”

  A little tremble of fear stirred in her gut. Was he going to tell her he didn’t want a real relationship?

  She nodded. “I hope it’s good.”

  “I . . . I need to say I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression . . .”

  Oh, shit. Here it came. He was just a guy looking for a good time. Her heart gripped. “It’s about your ex-fiancé, isn’t it?”

  “No! I mean, yeah, sort of. The thing is, if I led you to believe that there’s something still between us, there isn’t. I won’t lie. I’ve stayed away from anything serious since then. Hell, I’ll even admit that this . . . this thing between us scares me, but . . .”

  “I’m scared, too,” she blurted out, “That’s why I acted like an idiot. I don’t want to slow this down, I want . . . to move forward.”

  He moved closer, wrapped his hand around her waist. “Forward sounds good.”

  He kissed her. A soft, sweet sexy kiss. When he pulled back, her robe had come loose and he arched a brow at her underwear.

  “Nice.” He smiled with interest.

  “It’s a gift,” she said.

  “For me?” he asked in his sexy tone.

  “No, for myself. But I don’t mind sharing.” She opened her housecoat and gave him a quick peek of the matching panties.

  “Wow, I’m worried my gift isn’t going to hold a candle to this.” He ran a finger down the black bra strap.

  “I want you to open my gift to you.” She closed her robe and went and got his gift. “Here.”

  He took it. “Okay, but first open the one my mom sent. “I’m curious to what . . . I haven’t a clue what got in her head. And if it’s bad, I apologize in advance.”

  Savanna reached for one of the gifts. “No, it’s the smaller one.” She picked up the package. It was light. She tore back the paper. She opened it up and found a note.

  So you do
n’t have to wear my son’s.

  She laughed and read him the note. “I was wearing your robe when she knocked on the door.” She pulled out the black silk fabric and found a beautiful robe. “I think I might learn to like your mom,” she said.

  “Don’t push it,” he said.

  She dropped her pink nubby robe and donned the silk one. “It even matches my underwear.”

  “That it does, but you really don’t need to wear it,” he said, a sexy twinkle in his eye.

  “Now open yours,” she said.

  “I’d rather open your gift.” He raised an eyebrow and swept his gaze over the lingerie she was wearing.

  “Open it,” she insisted and held the box out to him.

  He opened it and pulled out the cup. When he saw what was in it, he grinned. “Tell me these are Chili Mango Jelly Bellies, and I’ll love you forever.”

  It was the word ‘love’ that had her smiling the biggest. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she was there, right at the edge of falling.

  “Where did you get them?” he asked. “I usually have to order them.”

  She watched him open the bag and pop a jelly bean into his mouth. “Here, try this and tell me it’s not heaven.” He put one in her mouth.

  She savored the spicy sweet flavor. “It’s good.”

  “No, it’s great!” he told her. “Really, where did you get these?”

  “They sell them in that Everything California restaurant in their gift shop.”

  He looked at the cup that held the bag of candy. “And I get a Jelly Belly mug. How cool is that?” He moved in and kissed her again.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Now open my gift.” He set his present down in a chair and brought her the other one. “Although, I think my mother probably outshined me.” He popped another jelly bean into his mouth.

  “I’m sure it’s perfect.” She sat down on the sofa and glanced up at him. What was perfect was him being here. What was perfect was that she wasn’t alone on Christmas Eve.