“It could be any of them,” I admitted. “Odin is the security chief. Elton is his campaign manager. Juris is his advisor. All of them had equal opportunity. All of them also have alibis.”
“Sure, they do,” Bruno snorted. “The only thing that you have to do is sort out who’s lying. Which should be really easy.”
His sarcasm was not lost on me.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
Lynn turned his gaze to me.
“Nothing,” he told me bluntly. “We want you to go back to work. Go back to living your life. Let us handle the rest.”
“You’re serious?” I asked.
“Deadly,” Lynn said. “The kid of a president, you’re too high profile. If you want to keep working here, you need to keep your nose clean. Stay out of the spotlight, and for God’s sake, don’t do anything stupid.”
I waited for a moment, unsure whether or not I should ask what I wanted to ask next.
Luke took pity on me and said, “I don’t think you visiting her is a bad thing. Hell, I wouldn’t have even known that you were anybody at all. I also was the one to do the damn background check on you.”
Something loosened inside of my chest, but still, a niggling piece of fear stayed with me despite his reassurance.
With one last nod of thanks, I left the room, hopeful and excited for what was to come.
CHAPTER 15
I’m at that age where I’m permanently unimpressed by a lot of shit.
-Coffee Cup
CAROLINA
“So is your new boyfriend coming over for Christmas tomorrow?” Connor drawled.
Remembering Saint’s words from last night, his utter assurance that this was the best route had me stilling my tongue.
“What boyfriend?” I asked, trying to buy time.
I wasn’t really sure why I was bothering to lie to my brother. He’d figure it out eventually.
But, saying that, Saint didn’t want his identity known to the people of Kilgore, Texas.
And honestly, I wasn’t sure that I blamed him.
I mean, what kind of life did he have to live to realize that he didn’t want me exposed to that?
“Saint?” Connor said as he stuffed his mouth full of donuts. “You know, the guy that you banged in the bathroom at the Christmas party? The one that, might I add, our parents were at? Your brother?”
I felt my face flush slightly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.
Clayton, who was also dressed for work and stuffing his face full of donuts, looked at me.
“I didn’t even get to go because I had to work, but even I heard about it. It’s all over the station,” he said. “I’m sure even Dad has heard about y’all being together by now.”
I frowned hard. “There are extenuating circumstances. Just… I know that you want to know more, but for right now, I need you to leave it alone.”
“Those circumstances are going to be a moot point here in a bit,” Clayton pointed out. “Dad’s a pretty popular bitch. So is Saint. The quiet ones are always the ones most closely watched. And trust me when I say, you trying to keep shit quiet is only going to make it worse.”
Clayton did have a point.
We’d already told everyone we were together at the party. Tongues were already wagging. They were going to continue to wag, even more fiercely, if we didn’t stay together. Drama was way more popular than facts.
Thinking that he was absolutely right, I hesitantly pulled my phone out to text Saint.
Caro: My brothers and I got to talking today. They said that the news of us was already all over the station. They also pointed out that it was going to draw more attention that we’re no longer together than it would if we just stayed together. I kind of hate to admit this, but he’s right.
Caro: I want to officially invite you over to my parents’ place for Christmas. We do our presents in the morning, then kind of just hang out until we eat Christmas dinner. It’s nothing fancy, so you don’t have to dress up or anything. Or even get any Christmas gifts. And, I’ll totally pretend that it isn’t your birthday, too.
Caro: Also, I’d like you to know that Smoke is doing awesome. Today I woke up and he was staring at me with curiosity. From the bathroom sink where he was curled up. Overflowing the sink. Was Smoke a cat in his past life?
Caro: I hope that I don’t offend you. I’ll still be quiet if you want me to. Just… let me know. I’m here. Whatever you want to do. I miss you.
I put my phone away so that I wasn’t tempted to continue to text.
Saint: Yeah, I came over to see you and Smoke, but you weren’t here.
Saint: I have to work tonight. Which means I have to go to sleep here in a minute. But I wanted you to know, if you’ll still have me, I’ll come with you. Luke and a few other men let me know that staying away from you was futile. And, apparently, I’ve done a pretty good job at hiding my tracks as well as who I am. I’ll be over as soon as my shift is finished… meet at your place or your parents’?
A huge freakin’ grin overtook my face. One that looked like the Cheshire cat’s.
Caro: We’re at the donut shop. Dillan’s bakery, if you want to join us.
Saint didn’t answer, and I was kind of disappointed.
Then a thought occurred to me. If he was going to come see me, that meant that going to see him was no longer against the rules. I could get him some donuts for his birthday. Take them to him at work.
“Be right back,” I said as I got up and walked up to the front counter.
Dillan, who was wiping down one of the display cases, looked up at me and smiled.
“Hey, babe,” she said. “More donuts? I swear, your brothers eat like Asa.”
“I think it’s a boy thing,” I admitted. “They’ve always eaten like they’re being fed their last meal. I saw that you make birthday donuts. I know that it’s kind of short notice but thought it couldn’t hurt to ask. The other day was when Saint celebrated his birthday, and I wanted to get him some donuts. Take them to him at work later tonight just for an excuse to go see him.”
Dillan stood up, her eyes wide. “You and Saint?”
I forgot she hadn’t been at the party.
She’d had to get up early today to open her store and was usually in bed by nine. Plus, Asa had been feeling under the weather, so she’d stayed home with him.
“You didn’t know?” I asked. “I figured that’d be the first thing that everyone told their significant others when they got home. Apparently, who Saint Nicholson dates is a big deal.”
“It is a big deal!” she cried. “I’m going to kill Booth. I swear to God. He always hides the fun stuff from me!”
I snickered.
“About those donuts?” I repeated.
“I’ll have them ready by noon today. Do you want just standard ‘Happy Birthday Saint’ written in them?”
I nodded.
“Colors?” She twirled the rag into a long rope as she waited for me to answer.
“Um.” I hesitated. “Blue? Shades of blue?”
She nodded. “I can do that. What else?”
“I guess you could make it cop themed.” I tapped my upper lip. “That could be funny.”
Her wheels were spinning. “You know, I was thinking about carrying some cop themed ones permanently every morning. I think they’re really cute. And now with half the force coming in every morning, I thought it’d sell well. I can do cop themed.”
“I’ll do this as a test run. We’ll see how it goes.” She fist pumped, then popped me with the towel. “I’m excited for you. Saint has always intrigued me. Y’all will be cute together.”
On that last comment, she turned to survey the door as something caught her eye.
I turned and looked over my shoulder, my breath hitching in my throat when I saw Saint jogging across the parking lot toward us.
I moaned when I saw that he was wearing sweatpants, tennis shoes, and a t-shirt.
&
nbsp; “I swear to God,” she said as she sidled up next to me as we both watched the magnificent man move. “They have to know what sweatpants do to us.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips.
“I think they have to have an idea what it does to us,” I admitted. “Why else would they wear them out in public?”
“What are y’all talking about?” Connor asked as he came back to the counter for more napkins.
“Sweatpants and why men wear them,” Dillan answered as she turned to look at him. “Do y’all like wearing sweatpants? Do you have ulterior motives when you wear them?”
Connor looked confused. “Ulterior motives? What?”
Dillan and I started to snicker as the door clanged with Saint’s arrival.
He took a look around, pulling his Ray-Ban sunglasses off as he did, switching out with his prescription glasses.
His eyes swept the room, casing it to scan for threats.
And it was no surprise when his eyes found me instantly once he was done.
I grinned wickedly huge at him and started forward, completely dismissing Dillan without even a goodbye.
Saint’s smile was nothing less than breathtaking when he saw me.
The moment I got within reaching distance, he pulled me in close by the strings of my sweatshirt, then dropped a kiss onto my upturned mouth.
“I was looking for that sweatshirt this morning,” he said as he tugged the strings, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose. “Convenient that I find you wearing it.”
Mmmm, his glasses really did it for me.
I blinked innocently at him.
“You could’ve taken it home with you last night,” I teased.
He pulled back and looked over his shoulder at Dillan.
“Hey, Dillan,” he said.
Dillan waved. “Hi, Saint. Do you want some coffee? A donut?”
He looked at the donuts longingly. “I shouldn’t.”
She rolled her eyes and went behind the counter.
“Come choose your poison.” She waved her hand.
Saint let me go, pecked me on the lips, and then walked to the counter to grab some food and a drink.
I went back to my brothers, who were both glaring hard at me.
Knowing what they were going to say, I chose to change the subject instead.
“What did y’all get Mom and Dad for Christmas?” I paused. “What did you get me for Christmas?”
Connor and Clayton looked at each other.
“Well,” Clayton hedged. “We were going to go after work.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“The only place you could go that would be even remotely something we wanted would be a jewelry store,” I said. “And that doesn’t count for Dad. Dad wouldn’t want jewelry.” I paused. “Jewelry stores close at five today.”
The two brothers looked at each other, and I wanted to punch them both in the throat.
“I’d just like to point out now that the Walmart gift basket that you got last minute last year is still sitting in Mom’s bathroom, unopened, never to even be opened. Don’t waste your money on another one,” I told them point-blank.
“What happened to yours?” Connor asked, narrowing his eyes.
He wasn’t narrowing his eyes at me, though. He was narrowing his eyes at Saint who’d pulled up a chair next to me and sat down with what looked to be an egg white sandwich and a cup of black coffee.
“I gave it away over New Year’s. At the company white elephant gift exchange,” I told him.
“You regifted our present to you?” Clayton asked in mock outrage.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry to say, but you don’t even know me. I know you know I have skin allergies. I can’t use scented stuff very often, and I for sure wouldn’t risk putting Walmart gift basket scented crap on my skin. I’d probably break out in hives and have to spend the holiday in the ER.”
“What do you use?” Saint asked curiously.
“I have to buy this really expensive skin cream from Sephora,” I admitted. “It costs a whack but works really well.”
“What’s Sephora?” Clayton asked, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his coffee.
“Sephora is a beauty line. The Sephora here is actually in JC Penney’s,” I answered as I looked at Saint as he bit into his egg white sandwich.
It looked disgusting.
No wonder the man had abs.
“Well I’m not shelling out a whack for you for beauty products,” Connor supplied. “I don’t even like you that much.”
I kicked him under the table, causing him to laugh.
Connor’s eyes turned to assess Saint.
“You coming to Christmas tomorrow?” Connor asked him bluntly.
“Your sister invited me and I accepted.” Saint bowed his head slightly. “Thank you for the invitation. I’ve never been to anyone’s Christmas before.”
“Not even your own?” Connor looked at him skeptically.
I could see Saint deliberating for a few seconds, then decided ‘fuck it.’
He looked at me, then looked back at Connor.
“My father is in politics. As far as I can remember, Christmas never really meant the same to us as it means to you. Our Christmas was a political push for supremacy. The first Christmas I can remember…”
“Wait.” Clayton paused with his donut halfway to his face. “I thought that your parents were dead. I thought you were raised by some cop?”
“I was.” He paused. “Kind of. That cop was the secret service agent. My dad isn’t dead. When I was younger, I perpetuated that lie because I didn’t want anyone to know who my family was or get any preferential treatment. Or any worse treatment than I deserved. Trust me when I say people look at you differently when they realize that you’re the son of a former US President.”
“I wouldn’t want to fuck up a president’s son. Can you imagine showing up the same day at basic training with you? What if I hurt you, and then they sent Air Force One out to pick you up, and then decided to take me, too, so they could waterboard me and send me to Rikers Island or something?” He paused. “Do you know what they really keep at Area 51?”
Saint looked amused.
“I was hurt while I was at basic training, and they didn’t send anyone, sorry to say,” I said. “But they also didn’t know who I was. I don’t treat myself any differently than you do. And no, I really don’t know what’s at Area 51. I wouldn’t recommend trying it, though, just based solely on what I’d seen when I was a kid.”
“What you’d seen?” Connor asked, licking his finger clean.
“I mean based on what little top-secret stuff I did see. They heavily guard the things that hold their secrets. Trust me when I say, nobody will ever get in there unless they want you to,” he pointed out.
Conversation flowed well after that, but eventually it was time for my brothers to go to work and my man to go to sleep.
When it was just us left in the parking lot after my brothers had left—without, I might add, offering to pay me back for their breakfasts—I moved in close until Saint either had to let me lean against him or put his arms around me.
He put his arms around me.
He looked down into my eyes, and it was then that I noticed that he’d left his glasses inside.
“Where are your glasses?” I asked, sounding somewhat alarmed.
He patted his pocket. “I took them off so I could kiss you.”
And kiss me he did.
• • •
Later that night, as I lay in the bathtub, I kept thinking about that kiss.
In fact, I was so lost in that kiss that at first I didn’t hear the knock on my door.
It was only the second knock that made me realize that the tap-tap I’d heard and dismissed was actually the door.
“Shit,” I said as I got up and walked to my towel.
“One minute!” I screamed.
Hopefully they’d hear me.
It could only be a few peo
ple.
There were no more deliveries this late at night, even though I was waiting for one. Dammit. My parents’ third gift wouldn’t be here until the twenty-sixth. Which pissed me off because that was the one I’d most wanted to give to them.
What was the point in paying for extra fast shipping if it wasn’t going to get here in time?
“You can bet your ass that I’m getting my money back for that,” I grumbled as I slipped back into Saint’s sweatshirt, a pair of leggings, and some slippers.
I was just getting to the door when I heard, “Don’t bother. I let myself in.”
I looked at the panel on the wall.
It was black.
But I remembered one thing my father told me about it.
Cut power and the police are called. It may look like it’s not working, but it is. Battery backup, baby.
Hopefully what he said was true, because as I stared at the man in my house, I was scared shitless that nobody would know until I didn’t show up at Christmas in the morning.
CHAPTER 16
All I’m saying is you rarely see a person crying and eating Christmas cookies at the same time.
-Caro to Saint
SAINT
“All units be advised,” the dispatcher said into our radio as I hurriedly changed into my SWAT gear. “Silent alarm was tripped at…”
I listened with half an ear as I dropped down onto the bench and tied my boots.
I hustled through, grabbing my gear when I arrived outside to find the entire team already there and waiting. I was last. Again. But, saying that, I’d had a streaker that’d thought it would be a grand idea to run down the length of Kilgore’s main highway and flash everyone his candy cane.
Newsflash, the city of Kilgore did not like seeing his candy cane or his ornaments.
I’d just gotten him in the back of my cruiser, cold, saggy balls and all, when the call had come through for the SWAT team.
“Ready,” I said, huffing slightly at the hurry that they’d put on me.
Normally we weren’t quite so frantic, but I hadn’t had the chance to read the call yet. I just knew there was one.
Now I was left staring at the men of the SWAT team as they stared back at me in various shades of pity.
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