by Talia Hunter
The wedding had been four days ago, and it was clearly going to take a whole lot longer than that to be able to accept my short relationship with Willow was over.
Turning to Mason, I asked, “Can you still see Santino?”
Mason was sitting next to the window at the far end of the room. From there, he had an excellent view of the house next door, and of the drug dealer who lived in it.
There’d be four other local cops working on the surveillance team, and we were supposed to start work tomorrow. Right now, it was only me and Mason, and neither of us were officially on the clock.
Mason was here because he was determined to bring down every single member of the Medea Cartel. I’d come because it was Christmas Day, and I didn’t want to mope around the house, microwave a meal, and watch bad TV.
He lowered his camera for long enough to shoot me a glance. “Santino’s got three girls over.”
“Three?” I closed my laptop and stood up, stretching my back.
“The third one just showed up. Got to hand it to the guy, he’s found an unconventional way to celebrate Christmas.”
“So he’s not making eggnog?” I crossed to the window.
Mason chuckled, taking more photos. “Not unless eggnog is a euphemism.”
Peering through the window, I shook my head in amazement. “How’s an asshole like him so successful with women?”
“If I knew, you think I’d be here with you?”
I watched Santino lead his three female friends into his bedroom, and heaved a sigh. “Well, that’ll probably be the last we see of him for a while.”
“Yep.” Mason lowered the camera, setting it on the table next to his chair. “Fun’s over for us, if not for him.”
“Aren’t you having Christmas dinner with your family?” I asked him. “If you want to get going, I can stay here and keep watch in case Santino reappears.”
Frowning, Mason unfolded his large body from the chair and stood up. “You don’t have any plans?”
“I don’t have much in the way of family now my sister’s moved to Australia.” I shrugged with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “It’s not so bad. Means I’m free to work.”
Mason’s frown deepened, and I could tell he wasn’t buying my act. “I’m having dinner with Dad and my brothers. There’s plenty of food, and Kade’s cooking so you know it’ll be good. Come and eat with us.”
I shook my head, keeping my gaze on the window. I’d had other invitations to spend the day with friends, and turned them down. “Thanks for offering, Mason. But someone’s got to watch the bad guy.”
“Surveillance isn’t starting until tomorrow, remember? Santino isn’t going to do anything on Christmas Day, especially now he’s busy in the bedroom. And you haven’t lived until you’ve tasted Kade’s pumpkin pie. I don’t know what he does to it, but you’ll eat until your stomach explodes and still want more.” His lips tugged up. “After a few drinks, we’ll convince Dad to explain his theories on why our secret alien overlords ordered the government to fake the moon landing. And at some point, he’ll probably go outside and yell insults at Trixie. It’ll be a blast.”
“Sounds like fun, but I wouldn’t be great company.” I nodded at the window. “I’m just going to stay here and keep watch.”
Spending time with a family as close as his would only make me more aware of everything lacking in my life. Better to be alone so I wouldn’t bring anyone else down with me.
Mason’s brow furrowed. “Are you all right?”
“Sure.”
“Liar.”
Reluctantly, I turned away from the window to face him. “I’m not feeling very festive.”
“Because Willow left?”
I thought about denying it for a moment, then grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”
“Have you considered going to Vegas to tell her how you feel?”
“You think I should give up my career to be with her?”
His eyes widened and he held up his big hands in a whoa gesture. “Wait. No. That’s not what I said. Is that what you’re thinking about doing?”
“Of course not.” I sighed. “All right, maybe it’s crossed my mind. I’m afraid if I let her go, I’ll always regret it.”
He clapped me on the shoulder. “Fish. Sea. All of that stuff. Give it time, you’ll feel better. You could meet someone else.”
I snorted. “Have you ever been in love?”
He started to shake his head, then rubbed the back of his neck as though reconsidering. “Well, once I thought I was falling in love. But that was a long time ago. I was just a kid.”
I quirked an eyebrow, curious. “Someone at school?”
“You remember I used to date Carlotta Watson?” A grin that could only be described as mischievous spread slowly over his face. “Daughter of Trixie Watson, my father’s arch-enemy.”
“Carlotta? That’s right, I remember. Talk about fanning the flames of war.”
“We dated before our parents became enemies. Can you imagine if we got back together now?” He barked a laugh. “Luckily for Dad and Trixie, it’ll never happen.”
“Why not?”
“She lives in LA and comes back to San Dante about as often as Willow does. But even if she lived here, there’d be more important things. Like bringing down Santino and everyone else in the cartel.” His expression was so resolute, I had to wonder if the bust was personal for him. Maybe the reason he was so desperate to bring them down had something to do with his mysterious scars.
Whatever had inspired his determination, his expression almost made me feel sorry for the cartel members who had no idea what was about to hit them. If I were a bad guy, I sure as hell wouldn’t want Mason closing in on me.
“You’re right, the work we’re doing is important,” I said. My empty, hollow feeling would eventually pass. In a few weeks or months, I’d probably be able to stop thinking about Willow so much.
“When we arrest Santino, you’ll feel a lot better.”
I grunted something that could be taken as agreement.
“Hey, what happened to the cop who lifted Willow’s dress at the wedding?” asked Mason. “What’s his name? Gus?”
“He’s been stood down from work pending an investigation. But I’ve been asking around and discovered a few other women he’s harassed. I’m collecting their statements, and he’ll be kicked off the force, at least. Most likely convicted.”
“Couldn’t happen to a more deserving guy.” Mason went to the door. “Come and eat with my family, Luke. I won’t take no for an answer. You can’t spend Christmas alone.”
I stared back through the window at Santino’s empty living room for a moment, then gave in. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll come for an hour or two.”
Taking my own car, I followed Mason to his father’s house. The house wasn’t decorated for Christmas, except for one thing. In his father’s small front yard was a large blow-up Santa.
Only the Santa was positioned side-on and bending over. And its pants were lowered.
Chuckling, I got out of my car. “Santa’s mooning Trixie’s house?”
Mason grimaced. “I have no idea where Dad got that ugly thing, but I might need to sabotage his Internet access.”
I chuckled again when I saw the gleeful grin on Mooning Santa’s face. It really was a masterpiece of inflatable art.
“Is this your father’s retaliation for Trixie’s snow machine prank?” I asked.
Mason grunted. “See that thing on Trixie’s front porch?”
“What is it?” I squinted at the contraption as I climbed his father’s steps.
“An automatic ball thrower for dogs. Trixie’s been loading the machine up with water balloons and firing them over.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when Trixie’s door opened and she came out onto her porch wearing a huge, flowing white gown, with a gold hoop attached above her head like a halo. She was hauling a big, heavy-looking bucket, and stopped short when she saw us.
&nbs
p; “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Watson,” called Mason.
“Merry Christmas, ma’am.” I gave her a wave.
Trixie put her bucket down and glowered at us. “Luke Penn? Seeing as you’re not a Lennox, I’ll give you a few minutes to get out of range. But you don’t want to be on that porch when my machine starts up again. This time, I’m not arming it with water.” Her tone implied that whatever was in her bucket was something far worse.
She may be dressed as an angel, but that was as far as the resemblance went.
“What about me?” asked Mason. “I’ve given you no reason to fire at me.”
“You’re a Lennox,” Trixie snapped. “And your father’s a miserable old fart knocker.”
Turning to me, Mason rolled his eyes. “We’d better get inside.”
Trixie stomped back into her house, and Mason opened his father’s front door. I caught the sound of male laughter and a delicious smell of cooking food. Music was playing softly, and the hallway was decorated with Christmas lights. It was warm and welcoming, and my chest instantly tightened.
“Mason, is that you?” I recognized Kade’s voice as he shouted from inside. “Come in and tell Dad that pumpkin pie isn’t a health food. He’s refusing to believe me.”
Asher came down the hallway to greet us and caught Mason in a hug, slapping him on the back. “About time you got here. Dad’s already opened his presents. Said he couldn’t wait.” He released his brother and stepped forward to hug me. “Hey, Luke. Glad you came.”
A hard lump was forming in my throat. Stepping back after his hug, I gave them both an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I thought I could handle it, but I can’t stay. I’d just weigh the festivities down, and you deserve to have a good Christmas.”
“What are you talking about?” Mason growled.
“Don’t go,” Asher protested. “Come in and eat.”
I backed down the steps. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not good company. My mood could be contagious, and believe me, you don’t want that.”
Mason called into the house. “Kade, come out here and help us convince Luke to stay for dinner.”
“I’ll see you later.” I gave them a wave. “Merry Christmas.”
When Kade appeared in the doorway and the three brothers stood together, I knew I’d made the right decision. They reminded me of the things I didn’t have, and that made me want to howl.
Making more apologies and waving away their protests, I got in my car and drove away.
Tomorrow I’d probably feel just as crappy as I did today, but at least Christmas would be over. I’d be able to bury myself in work and try to lock Willow out of my head.
Somehow.
I went home to my cold, empty, undecorated apartment. After heating up instant macaroni that was a disturbing shade of neon yellow, I logged into a shoot-em-up game on my computer, and tried to forget about my miserable Christmas by blasting several dozen alien soldiers into gory oblivion.
But I couldn’t concentrate.
I held out until ten o’clock, then switched off the game and started pacing instead.
What was I still doing here? Shouldn’t I be in Vegas?
With meetings scheduled first thing in the morning to kick off the surveillance op, it was crazy to even consider getting on a flight. But how badly would I regret it if I didn’t?
Skipping out on the first day of a new operation would look terrible. The chief might even reconsider my promotion.
But I’d been waiting for Willow since I was eighteen. And when I was with her, I’d glimpsed a happiness I hadn’t even known could be a possibility.
I’d never been reckless, never even wanted to be. But a chance to be with Willow was worth taking risks for.
I was heading upstairs to throw a few things in a bag, when I thought I heard a tentative knock on my front door. I froze, listening, sure I had to be imagining things. Nobody had any reason to knock on my door at half past ten on any night, let alone at Christmas.
Unless…
Whoever it was knocked again.
My heart leapt, even though there was no way it could be Willow. She’d be far too busy with her business to come back to San Dante, or even to be obsessing over me the way I was over her. She said she’d be run off her feet over Christmas, so imagining she could have left Vegas to pay me an expected visit was nothing but wishful thinking.
No, it must be a friend checking up on me. Maybe Mason, worried about the way I’d taken off. I’d reassure him quickly, so I could head to the airport.
I’d wasted enough time worrying about my career.
Now it was time to go and get the girl.
Chapter Fourteen
Willow
My heart must have become dislodged because it felt way too high, practically pounding in my throat. My hands were wet with sweat and my stomach was turning somersaults.
I wouldn’t be so nervous if I could tell what Luke was thinking, but when he opened the door, all I could see was his shock. His lips were parted and his eyes wide. His body was frozen.
Was he pleased to see me? Was he angry with me for leaving without a word? Had he assumed it was over between us? Would he demand to know what I was doing on his doorstep at this time of night?
“I’m your Christmas surprise.” I pointed to the big red ribbon I’d attached to the hair at the top of my head. But my cheeks heated and I couldn’t even fake a smile.
Had this been the dumbest idea ever?
“Willow?” He sounded amazed, like I was the last person in the world he expected to see.
I swallowed hard.
Maybe I’d been wrong in thinking he’d felt the same kinds of things for me as I’d been feeling for him. Perhaps he’d just wanted a one-night fling.
“I…um…” I hesitated, not sure what to say.
His face softened, his surprise transforming into something much warmer. Stepping close, he put his hands on my arms. “I can’t believe you’re here.” His voice had softened too, becoming a low rumble. “I was afraid I’d never see you again, and I’d decided…” He broke off, shaking his head. “How long are you back in San Dante for? You don’t have to leave again right away, do you?”
My muscles loosened with relief. There was no mistaking his reaction now. He was definitely glad to see me.
Before I could reply, his arms were sliding around me. “Don’t answer that yet,” he ordered in his sexy cop voice. “First I need to kiss you.”
“Yes, officer.” I put my hands against his chest, my chest expanding with an unbearable rush of hope. If he still wanted to kiss me, surprising him by turning up unexpectedly might not have been such a reckless idea after all.
His kiss was everything I’d been missing for the last four days. Everything I’d been dreaming of, and torturing myself with. And his arms felt so good around me, I felt my worries and doubts disappear.
“I’m sorry I took off like that,” I murmured. “I was embarrassed and I—”
“It’s okay.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I understand, Willow. You don’t need to explain.”
“I won’t run out on you again. I promise.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He smiled, his eyes so warm and beautiful they made my heart sing. “I didn’t think you’d be able to get away from your business.”
“I finished my last job about four hours ago. Now I have nothing urgent scheduled until after New Year.” I caught my lower lip between my teeth, giving him a hopeful look. “I brought Christmas cookies and eggnog. It’s not midnight yet. Want to have a late celebration?”
“Sounds perfect. But I thought you were sick of Christmas?”
“I’m willing to have my mind changed.”
“Then you’d better come in.”
“Um. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I have a suitcase in the car. Would it be okay if I stayed the night?”
His smile widened and his eyes shone. “Your case is in the trunk?”
He carried it inside a
nd I followed him in. There were no Christmas decorations, but his apartment was airy and light. His furniture was nice, and I could smell a lingering scent of cheese from something he must have recently eaten.
“I don’t mean to be presumptuous.” He flashed me a playful look as he repeated my words. “But I’m putting your suitcase in my bedroom.”
Anticipation made my skin tingle, but I kept my tone matter-of-fact. “That’s a sensible place for it.” Following him into the bedroom, I stripped off my jacket as I went and dropped it on the floor. “Nice bedroom,” I said, not looking at anything but him. “I notice you have a bed in here.”
He put my suitcase down and turned to me. “I missed you.”
“Me too.” I slid my hands under his T-shirt, exploring the hard, warm surfaces of his body. He had the best abs I’d ever felt, his muscles so perfectly defined, I wanted to play them like a grand piano.
He lifted one hand to tug the ribbon in my hair. “Is it time to unwrap my gift?”
“You’d better not wait, because I’m unwrapping mine.” I pushed his T-shirt up, trying to get it off, and he helped by yanking it over his head.
“Would you like to get comfortable first?” He kissed me while he fumbled with the buttons of my shirt. “You want some eggnog?”
“Not thirsty.”
“Christmas cookies?” He tugged my shirt over my arms while giving me another deep, toe-curling kiss.
“Not hungry.” I undid his jeans and pushed them down.
He unsnapped my bra. Pulling it off, he drew back for a moment, his eyes devouring my body. Then he let out a sigh. “It’s a good thing I didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“How stunning you are. Your bridesmaid dress would never have survived. I would have had no choice but to rip it off.” He bent his head to my breasts, as though demonstrating how much he liked what he saw. His tongue worked over my nipple while his fingers made sure my other breast didn’t get lonely in the meantime.
I moaned. It was the only response I could manage with him short-circuiting my brain-to-voice connection.
He fumbled with my jeans and I helped by shoving them off. Or at least, I tried to. Unlike Luke, I wasn’t barefoot so my jeans didn’t actually come off. Instead, they got snagged up with my shoes, and instead of lying gracefully on the bed, I stumbled, yelped and fell awkwardly onto it.
