Our First Christmas

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Our First Christmas Page 10

by Lisa Jackson


  “I know what I want.”

  He backed her up to the bed and lowered her to the mattress, sagging under their weight. Reaching for her shirt, he yanked it up until her breasts lay bare to him. He suckled a nipple and she arched, saying his name as if it were a curse.

  His smile was wicked. “You like?”

  “Yes.”

  He pulled her shirt over her head and straddled her. She smoothed her hands over his muscular thighs. They’d been in this moment before. They’d been swept away with desire that had quickly cooled and they’d parted.

  No . . . they’d not parted. She’d run away. She’d fled because the intensity of what she’d felt for him had been too frightening to bear. For days she’d thought about him, wondered what he was doing, if he thought about her. But each time he’d invaded her thoughts, she’d pushed him away.

  And here she was again, inviting this delicious desire and feeling. As much as she wanted to promise herself she’d act differently tomorrow, she didn’t. All she could promise was now.

  Lucas raised his head and studied her face. “I can hear your mind working.”

  She smoothed a hand over his broad back. “It does that sometimes. Time to turn it off.”

  He cupped her face in his hands for a moment, staring deep into her eyes as if willing the fear away. He kissed her as if he didn’t want to think about tomorrow, either.

  She reached for the snap of his jeans and unfastened them. The loosened waistband allowed her to slip her hands over his bare skin, and he hissed in a breath as if she’d seared him with fire.

  He rose up on his knees, staring at her as he quickly ripped off his shirt and reached for the snap on her jeans. Soon they were both naked, and he entered her. The sensations overtook them both and their bodies, damp with sweat, climaxed.

  Lucas collapsed against Marisa. He rolled on his side and pulled her close, nestling her bottom against him. He held on as if somehow he’d find a way to keep her from running again in the morning.

  Chapter 14

  Wednesday, December 24, 8 A.M.

  The next morning, Lucas woke and rolled on his side, expecting to feel Marisa’s warm body. His eyes were barely open, and he wanted her. They’d made love twice last night, and he still craved more.

  His hand slid across the sheet and hit a cold, empty patch. Immediately, his eyes opened and when he didn’t see her, he bolted up. He glanced around the dark, empty room, curtains still drawn, and found no sign of her. He tossed back the covers and reached for his pants, which were puddled on the floor.

  As he ran through all the possible scenarios, he glanced toward the bathroom and saw the light on. “Marisa, you okay?”

  Silence lingered a beat before the door opened to a bleary-eyed Marisa, who held a stack of papers. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “You didn’t.” Relief washed over him. He resisted the urge to cross and hold her close.

  “I remembered the code.” She held up the papers. “I woke up a couple of hours ago, and the pieces fell into place. I found paper and pencil and had to write.”

  The smile in her eyes eased his tension more. “What do you remember?”

  She explained the basics of the code, which was based on the Mayan language. “There’s a drug shipment coming in today.”

  “What?”

  She shuffled the papers and frowned as she read. “My handwriting is awful. It’s a code unto itself.” She studied the page. “Today. Definitely. Twelve noon.” She read off the address. “This is where they’ll be housing the shipment.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She raised a brow. “I know languages. And I’m right.”

  Lucas kissed her on the lips. When she raised her hand to his cheek, he savored her touch. He’d not lost her again.

  She finally broke away. “Don’t you have to call someone?”

  “Right.” He reached for his cell and dialed headquarters.

  The next thirty minutes was a scramble to dress, grab coffee, and get on the road back to Austin. Lucas dropped her off at her Hyde Park home an hour later. Instead of racing back to his car, he hesitated. “I don’t like leaving you here.”

  “I’ll be fine. And it’s time I went through some boxes.”

  Boxes that held memories she’d been running from for years. The outside world had barreled back into their lives. Would it tear them apart? “See you soon.”

  “Be careful.” She smiled and reached for the door handle.

  He captured her arm. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “I know.”

  He took her hand in his. “I was thinking we could take a vacation.”

  She arched a brow. “Really?”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Somewhere fun. An island. Just the two of us.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t go anywhere.”

  She laughed before sobering. “I won’t if you promise to be careful.”

  “Copy that.” He kissed her again and watched her vanish into her home. When he heard her click the dead bolt in place, he drove off, his gaze in the rearview mirror as he wondered if he’d ever see her again.

  “Marisa.” Her father’s voice cut through the phone line. “Where are you?”

  “Home. I’m home.” She sat in front of the one box she’d sworn she’d never open again. It was the box marked CHRISTMAS. She pulled out strands of old lights, colorful glass balls, and had just reached several handmade ornaments when the phone rang.

  A sigh shuddered through the line. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

  She glanced at the box of Christmas ornaments. “I’m fine.”

  “This is the Ranger’s fault.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Ancient languages are not cutting edge. They were the center of your mother’s life, other than you. We agreed on little, but we both loved you.”

  Emotion clogged her throat, and for a moment she didn’t speak. She dug into the Christmas box and retrieved a handmade star ornament. Recollections flooded of the day she and her mother and father had made it together. “Remember the year you, Mom, and I decorated a cedar tree along the highway? I was about six.”

  “I remember. You and I spent most of the morning making a paper chain to go on our tree. And your mother made the star.”

  She held up the star, amazed he’d remembered. Light caught the bits of glitter still clinging to the cardboard. “I remember thinking that chain was a thousand feet long after we’d made all those loops, but in the end it barely wrapped twice around the cedar tree.”

  “Your mom loved Christmas when you were little.”

  She cut through time, trying to remember the years before the divorce. “I have few happy memories of Christmas.”

  “There was a time when she loved the holiday.” A heavy silence settled. “I never meant to end the marriage on Christmas Eve. I lost my temper. I didn’t think beyond my own misery to you or your mother. I’ve always blamed myself for ruining Christmas for you and your mom.”

  She cradled the phone close, tears stinging in the back of her eyes. Her father may have been selfish, but her mother had also chosen to hang on to the anger and let bitterness rob her of happiness. That bitterness had spilled into Marisa’s life and she’d allowed it to remain.

  She could never gain back the years she’d lost with her mother and father, but she could find a way to embrace the future. “Thanks for saying that.”

  He cleared his throat. “Come over for dinner. We’d love to have you.”

  “Thank you, I’d like that. I’ve a few chores to do here and I’m waiting to hear back from Lucas. I broke his code.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yeah. This is a big break for him.”

  “Your mom and I always said you were the smartest of all three of us.”

  Her front door bell rang. “Dad, someone is at the door. I have to go. It’s probably Lucas.”

  “Please be careful. Look before you open the door
.” She glanced out her front window and saw Bradley standing on the front porch. She groaned. “It’s Bradley.”

  “Good. You’re safe.”

  “Safe?”

  “I called him. I thought you two were long overdue for a conversation.”

  Marisa shoved her fingers through her hair as she watched him standing, hands in pockets, on the front step. “What do we have to talk about?”

  “Just talk to him, honey.”

  She shoved out a breath. “Sure. I’ll talk to him.”

  “We’ll see you soon?”

  “Yes.” She hung up and moved to the door, snapping it open.

  Bradley had the good sense to look embarrassed. “You’re back?”

  “I am.”

  “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” She allowed Bradley past her threshold into the living room. When she closed the door, she turned and faced him. “What’s this about?”

  “I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. I was hoping we could talk and maybe find our way back to each other.”

  For a moment she almost laughed, thinking it was April Fools’ Day and not Christmas Eve. “You meant every word you said.”

  “I didn’t. I was selfish and hasty.”

  Her father must have had some talk with him. The emotion behind her father’s words had touched her heart, but Bradley’s words left her cold. “Is that all?”

  “Your office was trashed. You were run off the road. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

  He rattled loose change in his pocket. “This danger you’re in has to do with that Ranger!”

  “It does not.”

  “How can you say that? All your work was taken. Your office was ransacked.”

  “I don’t believe the two are connected.”

  “That’s insane. Your office was broken into just after your accident while you were lying in the hospital.”

  “Lucas said the place was trashed, but it reminded him of an amateur. If it had been the cartels, they’d have burned the place to the ground.”

  He fisted his hands. “Why burn an entire building? They were after your work.”

  “To hide evidence.”

  His gaze narrowed. “What evidence?”

  She studied him, noting the tension around his eyes. “Why’re you upset?”

  He jabbed stiff fingers through his thick hair. “Anyone would be upset. God knows who breached the history building.”

  “Lucas said there were no signs of forced entry.” She shook her head as she watched him. He showed no sign of surprise. “You took my work.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She’d made the statement off the cuff, not sure what reaction she’d receive. But now, as she watched his face redden a shade and his lips flatten, she confirmed her hypothesis. “You’ve been jealous of my work for months. I tried to ignore it, but you’re angry I made the find and you didn’t.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It’s true.” She advanced a step. “Did you run me off the road, as well?”

  “Don’t be stupid! I didn’t run you off the road. And I have witnesses who saw me in town at the time of the accident.”

  So he’d considered the need for witnesses. “But that didn’t stop you from taking advantage of my hospital stay, did it? You broke in after my accident and hoped the Rangers would connect the break-in and car accident.”

  His gaze hardened. “I should have burned your office to the ground.”

  To hear the admission, despite her accusations, struck her like a slap.

  “I should have burned all your papers and destroyed your work.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

  “Lesson?”

  “I’d hoped you’d see the Ranger was trouble and that you’d return to being your old self. You’ve been different since Mexico. And I know you two met there behind my back. One of the other professors saw you dancing with him in the café.”

  “Behind your back? My old self?” Anger simmered.

  “You used to be easygoing.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You mean a pushover.”

  “You were a nicer person before Mexico.”

  “Before you dumped me.”

  “You were selfish. All you cared about was work. You never looked at me.”

  “I can’t believe this.” She reached for the door and opened it, allowing a chill to race over her. “Get out of my house.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “We’re finished.”

  “Marisa, I did it for your own good.”

  “Go away, Bradley.”

  He reached out his hand as if to grab her arm, but she flinched and backed up toward the open door. The sound of footsteps on her front porch had them both turning to face a stunned Kyle. He carried a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.

  Relieved, she attempted a smile. “Kyle.”

  His steady gaze settled on Bradley. “You all right, Marisa?”

  “Bradley was just leaving.”

  Bradley glared at the two of them, and though he wanted to say more, he brushed past them and stormed down the steps toward his car.

  Kyle raised an amused eyebrow. “So what’s the deal with Bradley?”

  “He just admitted to trashing my office.”

  Kyle stepped over the threshold and set the groceries on the lone table. “Why?”

  “To teach me a lesson.” She closed the door.

  “So he has all the papers?”

  “I suppose. I don’t care. My work is backed up, and I remembered the code.”

  Kyle rubbed his chilled hands together. “How much?”

  “The entire collection of messages.” She checked her watch, imagining the Rangers storming the storage shed now. “Lucas and his men are on the way.”

  “You always did have an amazing memory. What was the key to the code?”

  “The Mayan and Aztec languages. It’s a mixture of glyphs and numbers. Simple, really.”

  “Simple for you. Not for most. I doubt there’s one other person on the planet who could have broken it.”

  “You could have cracked it.”

  “Maybe.” The phone in Kyle’s bag rang.

  The ringtone had a familiar melody that captured Marisa’s attention. She watched as he grinned and fished the phone from his pocket. By the third ring, she recognized the tune. It was the song she’d heard while she’d been trapped in her car. A unique sound that she’d never heard before.

  Marisa watched as Kyle glanced at the number, paled, and pushed the phone back into his pocket purse.

  “Who was that?”

  Kyle’s lips flattened into a thin line. “No one.”

  “You don’t look well.” She thought about the code she’d broken. Kyle could have written it.

  “I’m fine.”

  Kyle raised gray eyes that narrowed a fraction, like an outlaw sizing up the sheriff. His hand slid behind his back, and he removed a gun.

  Chapter 15

  Wednesday, December 24, 11 A.M.

  Marisa took a step back. “You were at the accident.”

  Kyle nodded. “You heard the phone that night, didn’t you? They were calling to see if I’d done the job.”

  Her stomach turned and threatened to upend. “You were sent to kill me.”

  He glanced from side to side, as if to make sure no one was watching. He swallowed, and his gaze grew heavy with sadness. “Not kill you. Scare you. Buy some time.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the shipment had to get through. Once it was delivered, I would be off the hook.”

  Kyle’s familiar face didn’t jive with the words of a stranger. “Why?”

  “I owe them.”

  “We’ve been friends for years.” This betrayal struck directly into her heart.

  “I knew you were alive in that car. I planned to send help in the next day or two. Like you said, we
were friends.”

  She pressed trembling fingertips to her forehead. “Who do you owe money to?”

  Sweat dampened his brow, and his face had paled. “Bad men who bought out my gambling debts with the promise that I do them a favor.”

  “Gambling. I thought you’d quit.”

  “I thought I had, too. And then, well, the itch returned while you were in Mexico.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me? I would have tried to help.”

  A bitter smile curved the edges of his lips. “You’ve bailed me out enough. And I couldn’t come to you again and see the look of disappointment on your face.”

  The realization chased a chill through her body that left her cold and numb. “So you did this one favor.”

  “Make a simple code. That’s all I thought I was doing.”

  “They’ll never want one favor.”

  The scorn in her voice hardened his expression. “I could have told them the Rangers had come to see you, but I didn’t. I thought if I could buy some time, this would all be over soon.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I like you so much,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I respect you. But I had to do this. You don’t know what they do to people who say no.”

  Overwhelmed with sadness for a friendship she’d never had, she asked, “So what now?”

  He squared his shoulders. “Get in my car. We need to go for a drive.”

  “Where?”

  “You’ll see.” Kyle jabbed the gun. “Move. Now. If I don’t get this right today, I’ll be sent home to my parents in pieces.”

  “So I’m supposed to just walk to my death?”

  “Don’t be dramatic. Just walk.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll give them the name of your father and stepmother and your brothers.”

  Blood drained from her face as she thought about what they’d do to her family. “You’re a monster.”

  “No. I’m not a monster. I’m just a guy trying to get by.”

  The Rangers raided the warehouse just after twelve noon and found huge stores of drugs as well as two dozen men moving and packing boxes for shipment. There’d been gunfire, blood had been shed, but in the end, the drug dealers were no match for the Rangers.

 

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