Yule Be Mine

by Foster, Lori

  Slowly, Lily sat up. Parker looked far from receptive, but still she reached for the heavy leather-bound book and cradled it in her lap. As always, touching it, thinking about it, made her sentimental and reflective. Poignant memories brought a lump to her throat and tied her stomach in knots. “There are…some things about me that I think you should know. Things that might make a difference.”

  His arm dropped away, and his expression filled with concern. “What is it?”

  Heart pounding, chest tight with nervousness because this was so important, Lily stared into his beautiful eyes. Strong, tall, protective Parker—how could he not know the difference he made to so many?

  Tears welled, and Lily dabbed at her eyes, trying to laugh, trying to dredge up that carefree attitude that he seemed to dislike so much.

  “Oh, Jesus, honey, no.” In a rush, Parker sat up beside her. He looked crushed as he smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. “I can’t take it. Please don’t cry.”

  “I’m sorry.” Darn it, she sounded like a strangling frog. “Ignore the tears.”

  “That’s impossible.” He tipped up her chin, his expression full of compassion and concern and heart-wrenching tenderness. “Is this about Christmas? It is, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have been such an ass. If you really want me to wrap presents, I will. Hell, I’ll even help you with the cookies. Just don’t cry anymore.”

  Wonderful, special Parker. “It’s not about cookies or material gifts. It’s about the holiday spirit, the kindness of strangers.” She drew a deep breath. “Without that kindness, I wouldn’t be here.”

  A strange stillness settled over him. “What do you mean you wouldn’t be here? What the hell are you talking about?”

  She could never think of the generosity of the human spirit without an excess of emotion. Even as she smiled, the tears trickled down her cheeks, shaming her for being such a sentimental sap, especially since she knew Parker didn’t feel the same. “I would have died, Parker. My mother, too.”

  For several strained moments, Parker said nothing, he just breathed deep and fast, as if her statement had left him shaken. Then he pulled her into his lap, tucked her head under his chin, and said, “Okay, I’m listening. Tell me.”

  Hopeful, Lily opened the book. On the first page was the most important article, but she flipped past it. It was special, so she’d save it until the end.

  “See this one?” The headline read, “Man Honored for Act of Heroism.” Lily explained, “The woman had a seizure and her car struck a gas pump. Flames were everywhere. The people close by could see that her doors were stuck, trapping her inside.”

  Parker read aloud, “Phil Benton pulled Margery Wilson from her burning car, disregarding his own peril. Moments after freeing her, the gas tank exploded.”

  Lily sighed. “It was Christmas Day. Mr. Benton was on his way home to his wife and children. Their dinner was ruined because he spent several hours at the hospital.”

  “He was hurt?”

  She shook her head and forced the words out around the lump of emotion clogging her throat. “No. He stayed with Margery because otherwise, she’d have been all alone. When the hospital released her, he took her home and she had Christmas dinner with his family.”

  In pensive silence, Parker smoothed his hand up and down Lily’s back.

  She turned the page to another headline. “High School Student Survives Gunshot Wound,” she read. “In a true act of heroism, high school senior Dennis Clark came to the aid of his best friend during an armed attack on Christmas Day.”

  “I remember that one,” Parker remarked quietly. “The kid protected his friend after two masked guys had beat him unconscious and tried to rob him. He got shot in the shoulder.” He stared at the photo that accompanied the article. “It was touch and go for a while there.”

  Lily nodded. “He still has the bullet in his shoulder.”

  On a deep breath, Parker whispered, “And he still has his best friend.”

  Pleased that he’d see it that way, Lily smiled. “Yes.” She showed Parker one article after another. Twenty pages worth—and that was only one of her albums. She had others. Maybe someday she’d be able to go through them all with him.

  Finally, after working up her nerve, she turned back to the first article and trailed her fingers lightly over the page. “This one is mine.”

  Parker stared first at her, his eyes seeing into her soul, his expression one of dawning comprehension before he gave his attention to the faded newsprint.

  In his deep, quiet voice, he read, “Detective’s Heroism Saves Pregnant Woman.” He paused, tightening his hold on her. “Your mother?”

  More tears blurred Lily’s vision. “She was a nurse on call. That Christmas, we had almost three feet of snow, then a layer of ice. A lot of streets were closed. The salt trucks couldn’t keep up.”

  “But she was a nurse, so she braved the weather.”

  “Yes.” Lily laid her head on his shoulder. “Mom had just parked in the upper level of the garage and taken off her seat belt when…one of the road crew trucks clearing the garage lost control. It started sliding in the ice and the driver couldn’t stop it or steer it away from her. It happened so fast…”

  “Damn.”

  “It slammed into her car. The impact of the collision ejected her head first through the windshield. But that wasn’t the worst of it. She landed on the garage floor and the salt truck rolled over her, snagging her underneath it before crashing through the guardrail. It didn’t go completely over the side to the level below. It sort of just hung there, keeping her trapped.”

  The room grew so quiet, Lily could hear her own heartbeat and sense Parker’s dread.

  “Mom wasn’t able to breathe. She was pretty broken up, with multiple system traumas and several fractures, including a skull fracture. And at any moment, that truck could have fallen to the parking level below.” In a whisper, Lily added, “She would have been crushed. We know that.”

  Again, Parker’s arms tightened on her, and he sounded almost as pained as she felt whenever reciting the story. “But someone saved her.”

  Turning her face up to his, Lily smiled. “A detective…like you.” She turned back to the article and touched it with reverent fingertips. “The crash drew a lot of attention. Hospital staff ran out, but no one knew for sure what to do. It was such a dangerous situation. Anyone who got too close would be putting his life on the line. The detective didn’t hesitate though. Knowing there wouldn’t be much time left before Mom suffocated, he worked his way under the truck with a bag mask. My mother says she can still remember his calm voice commanding her to take slow, easy breaths, to hang on…” Lily gulped on her tears. “He told her everything would be okay—and she believed him.”

  His face buried in her neck, Parker asked, “You weren’t hurt?”

  “No.” Lily gave a watery laugh. “They delivered me that day by emergency C-section, almost at the same time they were patching up Mom. I was small, but healthy.”

  “Thank God.”

  “And the cop who helped her.” She snuggled closer to him. “He waited, you know. To make sure she’d be all right. To be there with her in case she needed him again. Mom says when she talked to him later, he said all he could think of was his own pregnant wife at home and how Christmas wouldn’t be the same without her.”

  The seconds ticked by, and Lily’s anxiety grew. She had no idea what Parker felt, what he thought, if baring her heart had made a difference to him.

  Then she felt Parker nuzzling her hair, and he asked, “Did you feel that?”

  Confused, Lily pushed back to peek up at him. “What?”

  With the utmost care, he cradled her face in his hand and smiled. “The way my heart just grew ten times its size?”

  Lily twisted in his lap to face him. “What are you talking about?”

  He smiled gently, wiped away her tears. “Don’t you remember the Grinch, when the true meaning of Christmas finally hit him, and his heart al
l but exploded in his chest?”

  Lily started breathing too fast. “I remember.”

  “Well, that’s what it feels like to me right now. Like my heart is so full, my ribs just might break.” He kissed the end of her nose. “Damn, Lily, I’ve been an ass.”

  “You have not!”

  “I love you.”

  She stared, stunned silly, speechless.

  “Hell, I’ve loved you for a long time but didn’t want to admit it.” Parker shook his head and smiled at her. “I thought you were too young, too fanciful, and way too damn happy to suit me. All that optimism scared me, I guess because it emphasized how damn pessimistic I’ve become.”

  “You’re not a pessimist. You’re a hero.”

  He grinned at her, shook his head. “I wanted to be, but I could never tell if I made a difference.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’m so glad, so grateful, that you’re here. That you’re in my life. I make a difference to you, and that has to count for something, right?”

  “You make a difference to everyone, Parker.” Hope burgeoning, she bit her lip. “You really love me?”

  “Yeah, I really do. It took me long enough to realize it, but I figure it has to be love. Nothing else could make me feel like this.”

  “And…” She hated to push him, but she couldn’t stop herself. “You believe in the Christmas spirit?”

  “You’re here with me, in my bed, sharing your life. Sharing you. How could I not believe? You’re my own special Christmas miracle.”

  Happiness bubbled inside her.

  “You should be in that memory book too, because, Lily, you saved me.” He turned on the bed, positioning her beneath him and getting comfortable. “It’s so damn easy to get jaded, to focus on the disappointments instead of the triumphs. It’s so easy to lose sight of the important things.”

  “Like love?”

  “Like you. And sharing the holidays with friends and family.”

  She touched the corner of his mouth. “Speaking of friends and family…”

  He laughed. “Maybe we should divide Christmas between my folks and yours. It’ll probably send my poor mother into a faint, but I’m in a mood for her Christmas dinner. And I want to meet this remarkable mother of yours. And—”

  Squealing in delight, Lily threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight. “Your heart really did grow, didn’t it?”

  “Enough to help you at the shelter.” He kissed her. “Enough to start enjoying my job again.” Another kiss, this one longer. “And enough to accept that I love you—now, tomorrow, and for the rest of our lives.”

  Contentment settled over her. “I love you, too.”

  “Let’s go shopping.”

  Given their current position—in a bed, with her under him—Lily laughed. “You want to shop now?”

  “Yeah. For the first time in ages, I’m in the mood to buy gifts.” His gaze warmed. “For you.”

  “Oh, Parker.” Lily turned to mush. “I have you, and that’s surely the best Christmas gift ever.”

  DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR

  1

  Osbourne Decker had no sooner pulled his truck into the frozen, snow-covered parking lot to start his night shift than his pager went off. Typical SWAT team biz—a barricade with three subjects holding two hostages. He’d grabbed his gear, run into the station to change so he could respond directly to the scene, and from that point on, the night had been nonstop. Being SWAT meant when the pager went off, so did the team.

  After a lot of hours in the blustery cold that stretched his patience thin, they resolved the hostage situation without a single casualty. And just in time for his shift to end. He couldn’t wait to get home and grab some sleep.

  He’d just changed back into his jeans, T-shirt, and flannel shirt when Lucius Ryder, a friend and sergeant with the team, strolled up to him. Osbourne saw the way Lucius eyed him, like a lamb for the slaughter, and he wanted to groan.

  He fastened his duty firearm in a concealed holster, attached his pager and cell, grabbed his coat, and tried to slip away.

  Lucius stopped him. “Got a minute, Ozzie?”

  Shit, shit, shit. He already knew what was coming. Lucius would be on vacation for ten days—the longest vacation he’d ever taken. He’d be back in time for Christmas, but laying low until then, soaking up some private time with his new wife in Gatlinburg. But the wife was concerned about her loony toons twin sister.

  And that’s where Lucius wanted to involve him.

  “Actually,” Ozzie said, hoping to escape, “I was just about to—”

  “This won’t take long.”

  Ozzie thought about making a run for it, but Lucius would probably just chase him down, so he gave up. He dropped his duffel bag and propped a shoulder on the wall. “Okay. Shoot.”

  “You think Marci is hot?”

  Ozzie did a double take. “Is that a trick question?”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  Serious, and apparently not thinking straight. Marci and Lucius’s wife, Bethany, were identical twins. No way in hell would Ozzie comment on her appearance. Hell, if he admitted he thought Marci was beyond hot to the point of scorching, well, that’d be like admitting that Lucius’s wife was scorching, and his friend sure as hell wouldn’t like that.

  If he said no, it’d be a direct cut to Bethany.

  “She’s a replica of your wife, Lucius, all the way down to her toes.” Ozzie shook his head. “You really want to know what I think of her?”

  Struck by that observance, Lucius said, “No. Hell no.” He glared at Ozzie in accusation, then slashed a hand in the air. “Forget I asked. I already know you’re attracted to her because you went out with her a few times.”

  “No way, Lucius.”

  Lucius warmed to his subject. “I thought you two had something going on for a while there.”

  “No.”

  “You were chasing her pretty hot and heavy—”

  Ozzie forgot discretion. “She’s a fruitcake. Totally nuts. Hell, Lucius, she stops to talk to every squirrel in the trees.”

  “She does not.” But Lucius didn’t look certain.

  “She even chats with birds.” Ozzie nodded his head to convince Lucius of what he’d seen. “She gives greetings to dogs as if they greet her back.”

  “She’s not that bad,” Lucius denied, but without much conviction.

  “Not that bad? I’ve heard her carry on complete conversations with your dog!”

  Lucius shook his head. “It’s not like that. Hero doesn’t talk back to her. She just…She’s an animal nut, okay? She’s real empathetic to them, so she likes chatting with them.”

  “No shit. But she doesn’t chat the way most of us do. She chats as if she knows exactly what they’re saying, when anyone sane knows that they’re not saying a damn thing.”

  Lucius paced away, but came right back. “It’s an endearing trait, that’s all.”

  Because Ozzie loved animals, he might have been inclined to agree. But crazy women turned into insane bitches when things didn’t go their way, and he’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime. There was nothing more malicious, or more determined on destruction, than a woman who ignored logic. “No thanks.”

  “Okay, look, I’m not asking you to marry the girl.”

  “I’m not marrying anyone!” Just the sound of the “M” word struck terror in Ozzie’s heart.

  “That’s what I said, damn it, and keep your voice down.”

  Ozzie glanced around and saw that the others were watching them, their ears perked with interest. Dicks. Oh, yeah, they all wanted to know more about Marci. None of them would hesitate to go chasing after her. In the three months that they’d all known her, more than one guy on the team had tried to get with her.

  Course, none of them had yet discovered her whacky eccentricities. Then again, maybe none of them would mind.

  In a more subdued tone, now infused with annoyance, Ozzie said, “Any one of them would
be thrilled to do…whatever it is you want me to do.”

  “Bullshit. This is my sister-in-law we’re talking about. Any of them would be working hard to get in her pants.”

  True. And it pissed Ozzie off big time, but rather than say so, he pointed out the obvious. “And you think I wouldn’t be?”

  Lucius’s eyes narrowed. “Not if you know what’s good for you.”

  Ozzie threw up his hands. “Great. Just friggin’ great. So what the hell am I supposed to do with her, if not enjoy her?”

  Disgruntled, Lucius growled, “You talk about her like she’s a pinball machine.”

  “Right.” Ozzie rolled his eyes. “With a few lights missing.”

  Lucius drew a deep breath to regain his aplomb.

  Ozzie watched him. He really didn’t want to get on his buddy’s bad side. Lucius stood six feet four inches tall, and though he was a good friend with a sense of style that leaned toward raunchy T-shirts, he also took anything that had anything to do with his wife very seriously.

  “Nice shirt,” Ozzie commented, hoping to help Lucius along in his efforts to be calm. The shirt read: “World’s Greatest” and beneath that sat a proud-looking rooster.

  “Forget the shirt.” Lucius glanced at his watch. “I need to get going. Bethany’s waiting for me. So do we have a deal or what?”

  He had to be kidding.

  On an exhalation, Lucius barked, “I only want you to keep an eye on her. There’ve been a few strange things happening—”

  “Like her talking to turtles or something?”

  “Your sarcasm isn’t helping,” Lucius warned him. “I meant something more threatening. Marci feels like someone’s been following her. She’s not a woman given to melodrama—”

  “That’s a joke, right?”

  “So her concerns also concern me,” Lucius finished through gritted teeth. “And they concern my wife, who won’t be able to enjoy our belated honeymoon unless we both know someone is keeping an eye on Marci. Someone I can trust not to hurt her.”

  “I don’t hurt women.”

  “Exactly.” Lucius glanced away. “But I was talking about her feelings, actually.”