A Fate Filled Christmas

by Cheyenne Meadows

  He could do worse. A lot worse.

  "Can I help you?"

  Glancing up, he found a thirty-something sales associate with short black hair and big brown eyes wearing a stylish jade green dress. A year ago, he would have come to a point like a highly-trained bird dog. Today, he just admired the nice shape, which paled considerably compared to Brie's.

  "Just looking for something nice for my girlfriend."

  The woman's smile faded just a fraction as a wave of disappointment washed over her features. He refrained from rolling his eyes. What did she expect? That he shopped for women's clothing for himself?

  Taking a breath, she stood up straight. "I see. Are you looking for something in particular?"

  "Not really. But I'll know it when I find it."

  She tilted her head. "Would you like me to show you a few items to help you decide?"

  He grumbled under his breath. What he'd really like to do is show her to the exit sign. Can't a man shop for women's night clothes in peace these days? "No thanks."

  "Are you sure? I might be able to make some suggestions for you."

  He lectured himself to be nice. "Listen. I know my way around sexy lingerie as well as I know my way around a woman's body. I don't need help in either area. Thank you anyway."

  She huffed and walked away, the click of her heels making a staccato beat.

  With the interruption gone, he raked his gaze over the vast racks of items. One caught his eye. Striding over, he pulled the hanger from the bar and held the garment up for inspection. Deep red silk collected and reflected the light, shimmering and alluring. He could picture Brie wearing the lovely babydoll with nothing underneath.

  Checking the size and price tag, he made a hasty decision and headed to the checkout table.

  * * * *

  "What the hell?"

  Rye pulled into the driveway only to find yard ornaments standing proudly where only dormant grass once stood. Looked like the elusive Holiday Decorator struck again. At his house.

  Parking the truck in the garage, he climbed out and walked over to survey the damage. What he found didn't move his Christmas spirit but didn't repulse him, either. More a depiction of Mother Nature instead of silly commercial holiday animation. He could deal.

  A pair of light-decorated polar bears, expressions of hunger and annoyance on their faces, watched a few penguins happily spinning around in a circle to Christmas music. He couldn't blame them. He'd be frustrated too if his primary food source taunted him from a few feet away and he couldn't do anything about it.

  With a shake of his head, he returned to the vehicle, picked up the shopping bag and his duffel, and shut the garage door behind him.

  Dropping his work carrier at the door, he set the plastic carrier on the kitchen table, and pulled out the decorated box covered with paper and ribbons. Luckily, the store offered free gift wrapping. No way could he ever make the present look as appealing. Heck, he'd be lucky if the paper actually covered the area without five hundred pieces of tape to hold each inch in place. He might be a damn good detective, but he fell short in wrapping abilities.

  Plucking the small black box from his pocket, he stared at the item for a long moment. For days, he'd grappled with the idea before finally going with his gut. With the decision made, he had begun a two week hunt for the perfect gift. Something Brie would love and treasure. After hours of searching, he stumbled across the perfect selection. Shelling out a large hunk of change, he'd purchased the piece of jewelry on the spot, eager for the day to come when he could present it to Brie and watch her reaction.

  Speaking of Brie, he checked his watch. She should be home before long. "Now where am I going to hide these?" He walked around the living room, through the kitchen, and finally into the bedroom they shared. Nothing came to mind as a good place to store the gifts until Christmas Day. Each place he considered, he quickly discarded for one reason or another. Chances are Brie would stumble across them and let her curiosity get the better of her.

  Finding himself back in the living room, he stared at the small tree. Perhaps he didn't have to hide the bigger one. Laying it under the tree and toward the back, he stood back up and nodded with agreement. That would work. Now, where am I going to hide this?

  For the longest time, he stared at the tree before his mind clicked. Tunneling through the tree, he found a flat shelf-like area created by the middle branches. Setting the smallest gift there, he stepped back and appraised his hiding place. From any direction he looked, he couldn't see the velvet box. Giving the tree a small shake, he waited for the gift to fall to the floor. When it didn't, he grinned happily.

  "That will work. Now if Christmas morning will hurry up and get here."

  Chapter 9

  Brie pulled into the driveway after a long day at work, weary and drained, wanting nothing more than a hot bath and a warm bed. Glimpsing some unfamiliar shadows, she drove her car into the garage, turned off the engine, then bundled up against the cold. A few steps later, she stood on the edge of the driveway, looking across a light blanket of snow. While beautiful, the white covering didn't hold her attention. Instead, a handful of plastic animals covered with blinking Christmas lights drew her entire focus.

  Sure enough, a couple of polar bears stood with their rears to the house, facing the street. Right in front of them plastic penguins, complete with scarves and hats, ice skated around a pseudo-rink in time to the chime of Jingle Bells. Like a merry-go-round, the penguins, attached to metal bars, circled around and around.

  The fact that she had instant holiday lawn decorations didn't bother her as much as the evidence that someone strolled up to their yard, took the time and energy to place the scene, and no one saw them. Or, if they did, no one bothered to call her and report it. Scary. Really scary.

  With a shake of her head, she marched back into the garage, hit the button again to close the door, then headed into the kitchen.

  Rye sat on the couch watching television, turning her direction as she entered the house. "Hey."

  She tossed her purse on the kitchen table. "Did you notice the decorations out front?"

  "Yep."

  "Can't you do something? You're a detective, after all. Find the people responsible and arrest them." She sounded like a petty grouch but couldn't seem to bite back the surly words and attitude.

  He shot her a look of disbelief. "What will I charge them with? Too much holiday spirit? Questionable decoration skills? Unwanted gifting?"

  She sighed.

  Rye stood, ambled over, and wrapped her in his arms. "What's eating you and don't try to pass it off on the display outside."

  Leaning into his strong body, she absorbed his heat, his comfort. Resting her head on his chest, she listened to the lub-dub of his heartbeat as he soothed her.

  "It was just a rotten day is all."

  "I'm sorry. You want to talk about it?"

  "Not really."

  He nuzzled her ear. "You have two days off, right? A little break from the hospital?"

  "Yeah. Thank goodness." She loved being a nurse. Unfortunately, high stress levels went hand-in-hand with her job as a floor nurse at the local hospital. Some days being a nurse didn't pay enough to combat all the crap she had to put up with.

  "How about I treat you to one of my special massages?" He stepped back while still holding onto her waist and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Hot shower, then you can settle on the couch for a nice rubdown."

  Brie tilted her head. "Why do I sense some hanky-panky about to happen?"

  His lips twitched. "Because you're desperate for my body, drooling where you stand, and already wet with desire?"

  She snorted and slowly grinned. "No ego there."

  "Ego? What ego? I speak the truth. I can get references, if you want."

  Her mouth opened and shut again. While calling his bluff might prove satisfying, knowing Rye, he would look up a dozen old girlfriends, have them write letters of recommendation, and place them on the kitchen table for her
to read. Thanks, but no thanks.

  As much as she loved living with Rye, lately, she'd wanted more. They loved one another, she would bet her life on it. However, a small piece of her carried uncertainty, wondering when the day would come that he tired of her, decided to sow some more wild oats, find a woman more beautiful and sexier than she.

  Shoving the sobering thoughts aside, she pulled her attention back to the present. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him with feeling, thankful for his lazy bantering to cheer her.

  "I'll take you up on the backrub if…"

  "Yes?" He arched an eyebrow at her.

  "If you wear your pink boxers tonight."

  "I thought we decided they look better on you?" The corners of his mouth turned up.

  She smacked him lightly on the arm. "You just said that in order to get me into bed."

  Rye chuckled and kissed her on the nose. "Prove it."

  "Please? Wear your pink boxers for me?" She rubbed his lower belly. "You look so sexy in them."

  He sighed dramatically, breaking the effect when he smiled widely. "For you, I'll wear those silly pink boxers anywhere." Brushing a kiss across her temple, he patted her rear before releasing her. With expert finesse, he flicked open the buttons on his jeans, pulling open the fly.

  Sure enough, pink boxers winked at her. She smiled. "Ah ha. So you do like my dye job."

  "It's… tolerable." He reached out, sliding a hand under her scrub top, cupping a bra-covered breast. "Need a shower mate?"

  "Nope. If I shared my shower, I'd never get my glorious backrub." With a teasing grin, she headed down the hall, feeling better already. Rye did that for her. Boosted her spirits, pampered her with kindness, and filled her life with happiness. She could have done much worse.

  "You'll get other parts rubbed."

  Oh, boy. Her female parts stood up and took notice. She ignored them completely. Backrub first. Play time later.

  "Afterward, I'll dig out some good old porn for us to watch."

  She spun on her heel. "You wouldn't."

  He stuck his nose in the air. "Is that a dare?" With a waggle of his eyebrows, he strode over to his duffel bag and pulled out a small box with a ribbon around it. Walking back over, he handed her the item. "Here. Open it."

  She eyed him warily. "It's not Christmas yet."

  Rye shrugged. "It's not your main present. So open it."

  Hesitantly, she pulled the lid open and peeked. A DVD sat inside. Quickly, she read the title. "Vegas Nights?" Her face immediately heated. "You got me a porn video for Christmas?" She sputtered, torn between shock and embarrassment. Not just any porn movie, either.

  Months ago, he had led her to believe he'd starred in porn flicks, had a lead role in a film called Vegas Nights. She had stayed up late one night, found the movie on pay-per-view, and spent a hefty sum in an attempt to see his bare naked rear only to find out he wasn't even in the movie after all. Of course, he caught her red-handed and never let her live it down since.

  "Yep. Since you never finished watching it a while back, I figured you could pop it in any time you wanted." His eyes flashed with mischief.

  "Ohhhh. Bad. Really bad. Neanderthal bad." She scrunched her nose and set the box on the couch. "You're so getting it." Flipping her waist-length ponytail, she sashayed down the hall like a queen walking down the red carpet.

  His laughter followed her each step of the way.

  Chapter 10

  Brie returned to the living room wearing a deep blue shift, one she had purchased a few months back when he'd pretended a cotton allergy in order to get her into sleepwear that lacked high collars and didn't extend to her ankles. The small fib paid off in spades. While she didn't own many items, the ones she did have took his breath away no matter how many times he saw her wearing them.

  "Lovely." He raked her fine body with his gaze and licked his lips. Sure, he'd seen prettier women, even dated a few. Yet the sight of Brie in the silk nightie topped the scales of gorgeous.

  "Thanks." She walked over and plopped down on the couch. "Does the backrub still stand?"

  "Definitely." He never minded massaging her body, easing the strain, and turning her into a puddle of mush. First of all, she loved the experience. Secondly, he had free rein to touch and caress to his heart's delight. Not a bad way to spend an evening.

  He patted the cushion beside him. "Turn around."

  She instantly complied, presenting her back within easy reach of his hands.

  Starting with her shoulders, he began to rub, noting the tight knots, and working to ease them.

  "So…"

  "So what?"

  "Tell me about your porn career. What were the women like? Having sex with a camera right in your face or… in other parts."

  He sputtered, paused, then continued with his task. "Brie. I'm not sure this is a good topic."

  She angled into him, groaning as he used a circular palm motion over her shoulder blade. "Come on. I'm curious."

  "Uh huh."

  "Rye…"

  He sighed and chose his words carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was remember his exceptionally short movie career when he could be enjoying other more pleasant activities with his girlfriend.

  "The women were okay, I guess. Professional. And after a bit, you forget about the cameras and just do your job."

  "Would you rehearse ahead of time?"

  "Ummm… no." Working down her spine, he frantically searched his mind to come up with another more amicable and less volatile topic.

  "All the noise and… climaxes… were fake?"

  "Pretty much, yeah. Brie…" He needed a distraction and fast.

  "What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?"

  The question hit him like a punch in the gut. He sucked in a breath and wondered how in the world to answer such an off the wall and personal inquiry.

  "Well?" she prodded, leaning back farther and tilting her head to the side in order to allow him more room to access the point where her shoulder and neck joined.

  Damn. What kind of inquisition is this? If it were the guys at the station, sure, he'd toss out enough details to get some pats on the back for creativity and spontaneity. Brie, on the other hand, would probably be less enthusiastic and more prone to knock him in the head.

  He kicked his sluggish mind into gear. "Well…" He considered a couple of answers and quickly discarded each one. Both would encourage her curiosity if they didn't shock her to her marrow. Finally, he managed to pull a memory from old times past. "There was this time at the family reunion when we went to the lake for a whole week of camping. Jenny Hanks came down for a day."

  Brie sat up straight, but she remained mute.

  He gently massaged from her shoulders down to her lower back. "We headed down one of the trails, found a bench, and started getting it on."

  She sucked in a breath.

  "I had my fingers buried insider her while she jacked me off. I looked up and saw you hiding behind a bush."

  "I couldn't look away. Your gaze dared me to stay and watch." Her words whispered across the area. "I was shocked, mortified, but oh so intrigued." She spun around to look at him, her hazel eyes met his. "I couldn't believe what I saw but, at the same time, couldn't take my eyes off you."

  "It started off as a dare but soon turned into something else." He nuzzled her cheek, then studied her face. "I don't know why I did it. Something about you watching us made the act hotter, more sinful."

  "I never said a word, afraid you'd tell on me."

  He grinned at her youthful innocence. "Brie, I wasn't about to tell on you. That would be admitting to the parents what I'd done. Besides, I couldn't get you out of my mind after that."

  "Really?" A slow grin hitched her lips upward.

  "Really. You became the subject of quite a few wet dreams after that."

  She wound her arms around his neck and wiggled closer. "Watching you or participating?"

  "Well, both," he admitted with a chuckle.

 
"And now?"

  His smile matched hers. "And now, love, you own my wet dreams."

  Chapter 11

  A burst of gunfire sent Rye diving to the ground behind an air conditioning unit. Shit. His radio crackled as other officers reported in, yelling over the sound of shots being fired from the house they had surrounded a few minutes earlier.

  Information led them to believe the storage facility for a large amount of cocaine and the place where sales transitions took place would be empty for another hour. Just their luck the thugs decided to change up their normal schedule tonight, leaving the cops out of position and in a gunfight with drug runners both inside and outside the house.

  What was supposed to be an easy cat and mouse game turned into a small war zone.

  A bullet whizzed by Rye's head only to bury itself in the metal currently serving as his only protection. Coming to a crouching position, he leveled his revolver in the direction the shot came from and fired. A hail of return ammo hurled back.

  Curling into a ball, he scanned the darkened area for another position, anything that might serve as better cover and get him out of the middle of no-man's land. Nothing save a skinny tree within a thirty foot circle. Fuck. Pinned down, he couldn't shake the feeling of being a sitting duck, just waiting for one of those high-powered shells to hit home.

  He quickly spoke into his communication microphone attached to his shoulder and ducked as more shots came his way. Others answered in a barrage of chaotic statements from adrenaline-charged officers. No one offered up suggestions on how to escape the certain death trap he waited in now.