Mistletoes and Apple Pie

by Lynn Hagen

  “Hey, I don’t treat guys like dirt.” Payton just had a bad habit of opening his mouth without a buffer. Especially when he was angry. Shit just flew out before he thought about what he wanted to say.

  “Teach me, wise one,” Sherman teased. “And does your god have a brother?”

  Payton wasn’t sure since he knew nothing about Miller. They’d only known each other a little over twenty-four hours, though it had seemed longer than that. Twenty-four hours and Payton had jumped right into the sack with Miller.

  God, he was a slut.

  “He showed up to fix my steps after that fiasco with Bilbo, and then we went to dinner.” Payton felt himself blush. “Then, as you can see, we had sex.”

  Sherman laughed. “So you slept with a stranger.”

  “People do it all the time.” Payton shoved at Sherman. “Tell me you haven’t had your share of strange dick.”

  In truth, Payton was shocked Miller was still hanging around, especially since the guy knew about Payton’s parents. Maybe Payton shouldn’t have overshared. Then again, it wasn’t as if he could hide anything since his father had dropped by unexpectedly.

  Sherman sat up. “Is he cooking something?” He sniffed the air. “Dude, don’t screw this up. You got a guy who cooks.”

  “Pyke cooked,” Payton pointed out.

  “Pyke also didn’t like you,” Sherman countered. “I think he would have rather died in a barn fire than let you put the flames out.”

  Payton’s jaw dropped. “Damn, do you have to make me sound so fucking evil? We had our share of problems, but he had to like me at some point since we dated for a while.”

  He also didn’t like the limelight on him. Payton knew he had a ton of issues, but he was working on them. Slowly, but he was trying. He didn’t need Sherman reminding him how crazy he actually was.

  “I’m sorry.” Sherman gave him a quick hug.

  “You’re only apologizing in hopes that I’ll share whatever Miller is cooking.” Payton leaned out of the hug as Sherman’s arms fell away. “And to answer your question, yes, my mother decorated in hopes to lure me back home.”

  Payton rubbed the area where Miller had bitten him, and he felt an overwhelming need to see the guy, to be held by him, to get a toe-curling kiss, and believe, even if it weren’t true, that Miller would really stick around.

  Sherman glanced over his shoulder when Miller entered the room. God, he was dreamy, dressed only in his blue jeans, his chest and feet bare. He carried a serving tray and set it in front of Payton then cupped Payton’s face and gave him a few quick kisses.

  Without a word, Miller walked out.

  Payton looked down at the tray. Miller had made a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomatoes, and there were some beer-batter fries on the plate, too. There was also a cup of fresh coffee and a glass of iced tea.

  “I’m in love with your new boyfriend,” Sherman said. “I’m going to murder you and bury your corpse so I can take over your life.”

  Payton smiled as he handed Sherman half his sandwich. “Trust me, you don’t want my life.”

  They looked toward the window when they heard arguing. With a frown, Payton set his tray aside and went to the window, Sherman following him.

  It was dark out, and hard to see, but Payton made out two figures standing on the side of his neighbors’ house. Thank goodness the music was no longer playing, but he saw that some guests were still there from the shadows in the lit living room side window.

  “I love a juicy argument,” Sherman said as he cracked the window open, letting in the freezing air. “I gotta hear what they’re saying.”

  Payton hurried to his closet and pulled out a pair of jogging pants before slipping them on. If he was going to be nosy, he didn’t want to freeze his balls off.

  “You think I don’t know you fucked him?” someone said in a low, tight, angry voice. “And you were all over him tonight. I’m not blind, Linda.”

  Sherman doused the bedroom light before returning to the window. Payton was hunkered down since his blinds were down. He didn’t want the couple to see him listening to their heated argument.

  “You’ve lost your mind, Chris. I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

  “No?” Chris asked in a sarcastic tone. “You were acting like a complete whore. Everyone saw it, Linda! You embarrassed not only yourself but me.”

  Linda started away, but Chris grabbed her upper arm. Payton wanted to go out there and give the guy a piece of his mind for handling a female that way, but before his thoughts even formed, a gunshot rang out.

  Payton dropped to the floor, as did Sherman. Payton had flashbacks of when Dublin McLeay had shot him while he’d been trying to escape Pyke’s house. Pain pulsed in his back, and Payton knew it was because of the memories. The doctor had told him that Dublin had missed his spine by inches, which would have paralyzed him.

  “Holy fuck!” Sherman said in a loud whisper as he looked wide-eyed at Payton. “Did he just shoot her?”

  Payton eased upward to look but dropped when a second shot fired and shattered his bedroom window. Payton and Sherman screamed as they scrambled toward the bedroom door, desperate to get out of there.

  The last thing Payton wanted was to be shot again. He’d barely survived the first time.

  “I think he knows we were watching,” Sherman said as Miller raced down the hallway toward them.

  “What the hell was that?” Miller looked wide-eyed at Payton. “Was that gunfire I heard?”

  Payton quickly explained what happened. “Call the cops,” he said to Miller. Payton plastered his back against the hallway wall, protecting it as images of his blood on Pyke’s floor assailed him. He wasn’t going to let anyone else try to take his life.

  “He shot at you?” Miller looked dark and savage as he stared at Payton’s bedroom door. “You call the cops. I’m going outside.”

  “No!” Payton tried to grab at Miller’s arm, but the guy was gone in seconds.

  Sherman pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and dialed, talking bullet-fast to the operator as Payton ran back to his room and looked out his window.

  It was an insane move, and Payton should have been terrified of being shot again, but he also didn’t want Miller killed. You get some dick and now you’re risking your damn life. You need a lobotomy.

  Payton stayed low, his fingers curled over the windowsill as he tried to find where Miller was. He finally spotted the guy. Miller was crouched over the woman, and Chris was nowhere in sight.

  Then Payton’s jaw dropped. The guests had come outside to see what had happened, and among them was Nick. What on earth was he doing at the Dretzin house? First Bistro then The Diner Train and now next door? Was Nick stalking him? This was too much of a coincidence, and it was starting to get creepy.

  “I told you he wasn’t Santa Claus,” Payton said as Sherman joined him, his ear still stuck to his phone. “Nick was getting drunk next door. If he were Santa, this time of year would be too busy for him to be attending Christmas parties.”

  Payton had said that out loud, more to convince himself than his cousin.

  Sherman looked incredulously at Payton. “Dude, I’m calling the cops because a woman was shot and you’re on my balls about Santa?”

  “This is how I deal with stress,” Payton said. “I redirect it onto something else.”

  He didn’t want to think about someone being killed right outside his bedroom window or the fact that the killer had tried to off him, too. Being shot once—technically twice since Dublin had shot Payton two times—was enough to last him a lifetime.

  Payton knew about Pyke’s new boyfriend’s ordeal, about Nester killing his ex-boyfriend, Scott, and he’d witnessed firsthand the trouble Scott had brought into Nester’s life by the name of Dublin. Payton just never thought that kind of trouble would be so close to home.

  Fuck, Maple Grove was turning into a violent town. Payton had grown up here, and aside from car-jackings, speeders, and the
occasional break-in, he hadn’t thought Maple Grove was riddled with so many murders.

  Okay, so Nester had been defending himself when he’d killed Scott, but still…

  Miller walked over to Payton’s window. “You saw who did this, and he knows it. Until the guy is caught, gather Bilbo and some clothes. You’re coming to stay with me.”

  “So dreamy,” Sherman whispered. “And so unfair.”

  “I don’t think Chris saw you,” Payton whispered back. “It was my head that poked up in the window, and my head he tried to shoot off.”

  “That’s okay,” Sherman said. “I’m going to my parents’ house in Fever’s Edge for the holiday anyway, so I won’t even be in town for the next week. I won’t return at all until you tell me the coast is clear.”

  Payton still couldn’t understand how Sherman dealt with his own parents arguing. They might have been divorced, but it was as if they couldn’t quit each other. Sherman seemed unfazed by it, never missing a holiday with them.

  It was the one time of the year that they came together in the same house.

  “We’ll stick around long enough to give the cops a statement,” Miller said. “And then I’m keeping a close eye on you.”

  Although Linda’s death was tragic, Payton couldn’t help but smile. He guessed Miller was sticking around. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a lonely holiday after all.

  * * * *

  Miller had picked up the scents where the murder had taken place and would now be able to sniff out the killer if he came anywhere near Payton.

  He walked inside his house from the attached garage and tossed his keys onto the counter. “Make yourself at home,” he said to Payton.

  Miller was still rattled that someone had shot at his mate, and he was so pissed that he wanted to track the guy down. But that would mean leaving Payton alone, and Miller wasn’t willing to do that. His number-one priority was keeping Payton safe, something he had explained to his mate on the ride over, and Miller didn’t plan on failing.

  Even though Payton hadn’t looked as if he’d believed him. He’d questioned fate, that they were bound together, and everything supernatural that Miller tried to tell him about. It seemed it would take time for Payton to come to grips with the world he’d been thrust into, but Miller had nothing but time to give.

  Loki came bounding into the room, his tail swishing so fast that he should have created a tornado. He jumped up, pressing his front paws against Miller’s chest as he barked.

  “Glad to see you, too, buddy.” Miller scratched behind Loki’s ear before the dog dropped down then stared up at Payton, as if waiting to see if Payton would greet him.

  “I don’t know about letting Bilbo out.” Payton looked apprehensively at the dog. “Are you sure Loki won’t eat my cat?”

  “He’s already proven he won’t when he rescued Bilbo. Besides, I’m more worried about Bilbo attacking Loki.” The German shepherd was sweet and loved making new friends. He would try to interact with Bilbo, and from the way Bilbo behaved, Miller did worry that the cat would attack his dog.

  “You have a point.” Payton set the carrier down and let the cat free. Bilbo slowly crept out, sniffing everything around him. He looked up at Miller then took off to parts unknown. Loki, the great dog that he was, didn’t bat an eye or give chase. He seemed more interested in Payton.

  Miller knew how Loki felt.

  “About earlier…” Miller grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge.

  “The murder?”

  “No.” He popped the lid and took a long swallow. “I left you alone so when you woke up you would have time to process what you’d seen.”

  “Oh, the jaguar.” Payton narrowed his eyes. “You could have convinced me how serious you were before you shifted. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

  “How else was I supposed to prove it to you?” Miller asked. “Just telling you wasn’t enough. I saw in your eyes you thought I was a complete nut.”

  Payton took a deep breath. “No. I’m not going to argue. I’m not going to turn this into a fight. That’s my parents’ thing, not mine. I’m turning over a new leaf. This is a new chapter in my life, and I’m not going to be a bitch.”

  Miller smiled. He had to give his mate points for trying. “I would never think you’re a bitch. Why don’t you explore the house while I make a few calls?”

  Payton gave him a sideway glance. “Calls at this hour? Do you belong to some clandestine agency?”

  “Hardly.” But what Payton said wasn’t far from the truth. Miller needed to talk with the sheriff. The guests at the party had identified the mysterious “Chris” as Chris Alton, one of Maple Grove’s rich, spoiled, narcissistic residents who thought throwing around money got him out of whatever trouble he was in.

  Not this time.

  Miller wanted to see if Sheriff Copache had made an arrest or if Chris was still on the loose. If the sheriff didn’t track Chris down, Miller would. He just might do that anyway since Chris had shot at Payton.

  Payton.

  Miller was still stunned he’d found his mate, even after knowing about it the first time they’d met. It just seemed unreal that, after three hundred years, in which he thought he was destined to never find him, here Payton was, snug in his home.

  He also needed to text Russell to let him know what was going on and that he would need a few days off until things were settled. Miller didn’t like leaving his friend high and dry, but with Payton’s life being threatened, Miller had no other choice.

  * * * *

  It was late, and Payton wasn’t in the mood to explore but left the room to give Miller his privacy while he made his calls.

  He was surprised when they’d pulled up to a nice, fancy house with a wraparound porch, a large willow tree in the front yard, and fuck, could his backyard be any larger? Payton stood by the back French doors staring out at the wintery landscape.

  There was no use keeping his head stuck in the sand. Miller wasn’t human, and the sooner Payton accepted that, the better he would feel. Besides, he needed some kind of bright spot in his life after seeing someone killed not ten feet from his window.

  On the ride over, Miller had filled the silence by telling Payton about what a mate was—someone fate thought would be perfect for him. He explained that Payton would never want for anything and that it was Miller’s number-one priority to keep Payton safe.

  What more could a guy ask for? He just wasn’t sure he liked the idea of a shotgun wedding. That was what it had felt like, even though a shotgun wedding usually referred to a guy marrying a girl because she was pregnant.

  And the speediness of what was happening between them intimidated Payton. That was why he’d argued with Miller in the truck that fate and mates weren’t real, though secretly, Payton prayed that they were.

  Even so, a relationship Payton couldn’t quit? Was he ready for that kind of commitment? It wasn’t as if he had a ton of prospects or even guys who were willing to put up with his bullshit.

  Payton was pulled from his thoughts when he spotted a shadow moving in the backyard. It was dark out, around two in the morning, but Payton was almost positive someone was out there.

  Had Chris followed them here? Was that him in the backyard? Payton eased away from the door and hurried to the living room where Miller was still talking on his phone.

  Payton grabbed his arm and tried to pull Miller to the kitchen. “I think someone is outside!”

  “I’ll call you back.” Miller hung up and whistled. Loki came bounding down the hallway. Miller went to the kitchen door and opened it. “Sic ’em.”

  With a low and deep growl, Loki took off.

  “What if the person shoots your dog?” Payton panicked at the thought. Loki was sweet and such a good boy, and Payton didn’t want anything happening to him. He also knew Miller would be beside himself if Loki was hurt or killed.

  “I want you to stay inside.” Miller undressed in the kitchen, and although this could possibly b
e a dire situation, Payton’s brain turned to mush as inches of golden skin and muscles were revealed. He didn’t think he’d ever stop lusting over Miller’s body.

  Payton sucked in a breath and told himself not to faint when Miller transformed—no, he’d called it shifting—into his jaguar and ran outside.

  With a quick jerk of his arm, Payton closed the door and plastered his hands and face against the glass, trying to keep an eye on the jaguar and the dog.

  If someone was out there, Payton wanted him or her found, but he also didn’t like being left in the house alone. The silence was eerie, and Payton prayed Miller wouldn’t be gone long.

  If he and Sherman hadn’t been so nosy, none of this would be happening. Then again, if they hadn’t been nosy, no one would have been the wiser about who had killed her. It was a regret that Payton couldn’t actually regret.

  At least Linda’s death would be avenged.

  Payton just hoped he wouldn’t have to avenge Miller’s demise if the killer had followed them there.

  Chapter Seven

  Miller took to the trees as Loki searched below. There were footprints in the snow, and Miller followed as far as he could before he had to jump to the ground.

  Loki joined him, and they followed the prints to the road behind the woods, where Miller lost the footprints. The person had to have gotten away in a car.

  Worse, the wind had shifted, taking away any scent Miller had tried to pick up, so he had no idea if the person was Chris or someone else. Sheriff Copache had told him that they hadn’t located Chris yet, and that put Miller on edge.

  He and Loki padded back to the house. Loki stopped in the backyard and rolled in the snow while Miller sat on his haunches and watched, wondering who had come into his backyard.

  Loki’s head popped up, and he stared at the woods. Miller got up and scanned the area, sniffing the air. He crept toward the trees, stopped, keeping still as he watched, and waited for whatever Loki had been looking at.

  Then a chipmunk ran, and Loki chased it, barking until the chipmunk raced up a tree.