“And what? Call him out? Confirm to him we’re onto him?” Reid rose from his chair and marched toward her. “It’s too dangerous.”
“What, do you think he’s going to shoot me in his office in cold blood? We already think he has a hired gun after us, how can it get any worse than that?”
Reid swiped a hand down his face, groaning. “Pen, I’m trying to protect you.”
“And I appreciate that. I appreciate your putting us up here and helping get to the bottom of what he’s done.” She drew a shaky breath as emotion swamped her. “Especially if it turns out he had a hand in Andrew’s death.” She paused for a sustaining breath. “But...”
“My motives aren’t entirely altruistic. I have a vested interest. If I can prove he planted the potassium in Andrew’s insulin vial, or connect him to my father’s disappearance, I’ll have removed two large monkeys from my back.”
She hugged herself as a chill washed through her. “I hate hiding. It feels...weak. I may have been a pushover as a kid, intimidated by him, but Andrew encouraged me to stand up for myself. It galls me to know he’s likely run roughshod over the lives of so many people, including people I love, and he’s getting away with it.”
“He won’t get away with it.” The fire of determination blazed in his dark blue eyes. “Work with me. Together we can end his secret reign of terror and bring him to justice.”
She turned up a hand as she nodded. “Of course. You know I’ll do whatever I can.”
“That includes following my lead, listening to my advice, not flying off half-cocked and blowing our investigation because you want to confront him.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he cut her off with, “Nobody wants five minutes alone with him more than I do.” He opened and closed his fist as if itching to punch something...or someone. “I’d love to look him in the eye and ask him how he sleeps at night while he lies to my family about his handling of our business. But we have to be patient. The time will come for all that.”
Her shoulders drooped, and she looked away from his hard stare to the gray winter sky and still lake out the window. He was right, even if she hated to admit it.
She balled her hands at her sides as she digested the maddening truth. A man she’d loved—or tried to love, despite his distance and gruff nature—had most likely betrayed her in the worst possible ways.
“Fine,” she said dropping back onto the sofa to continue through the pile of documents and receipts. “I won’t go see him, but you have to promise me a chance to confront him after we nail the SOB.”
* * *
Reid and Penelope spent the next week going through her father’s computer files and studying the materials that Andrew had collected. The work was tedious, but Reid seemed to think they were making good progress building their case. They found more billing statements and tax records that corroborated the documents and notes Andrew had assembled, and her father’s internet history continued to prove both enlightening and incriminating...which meant further disillusionment and heartache for Penelope.
Her father had searched such topics as the extradition laws of several foreign countries and missing-person laws in Texas, particularly the criteria for having a missing person declared dead.
On a Saturday, just over a week after arriving at Reid’s lake house, the weather, in typical Texas fashion, had changed from the cold and windy of the previous week to sticky and unseasonably warm. Nicholas was restless with the limited selection of toys and television available to entertain himself, so Penelope excused herself from the tedium of sorting paperwork in order to let Nicholas play outside.
As Nicholas ran after a ball, Penelope raked her hair back from her face and stared out at the still, gray lake. A white heron slid slowly, gracefully through the shallow water at the shoreline. Sleek and serene, the regal-looking bird made her heart ache. Would her life ever have that kind of calm and tranquillity again? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt at peace, secure and hopeful about the future. Certainly not since Andrew’s death.
She’d been out on the lawn for about ten minutes, playing an easy game of catch and kick with a plastic ball, when Reid joined them. He stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, working the kinks out of his muscles, before trotting down from the house to intercept a toss Nicholas made. He made a show of lying out to catch the poorly thrown ball and rolling on the winter-brown grass after tucking the ball against his chest. Nicholas found the stunt highly amusing and, of course, imitated with a flop and roll.
She blinked her surprise, not having guessed Reid would be interested in lighthearted tussling with her toddler. But Reid passed the ball to Nicholas with an easy lob, and her boy chased down his missed catch, adding another roll in the grass and a hearty laugh.
Penelope’s heart swelled at the sound of her son’s mirth, and she couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged her lips. On the heels of her joy, however, she knew a brief moment of regret, telling herself it should be Andrew playing with their son. Yet when Nicholas charged at Reid with his wobbling toddler gait and tackled him with a grin and a giggle, she shook off the negativity. If she were going to rebuild her life and be the kind of mother Nicholas deserved, she couldn’t continue to dwell on the past, the could-have-beens.
Nicholas paused from the roughhousing and clambered to his feet, his attention snagged by something across the inlet. He pointed a chubby finger and said something to Reid. Though Reid glanced where the child pointed, his expression said he didn’t understand Nicholas’s jabber.
Penelope headed toward them, thinking she might translate for her son, but Nicholas saw her and shouted, “Mommy, too!”
“What?”
Her boy jumped up and tumbled to the ground with a laugh and repeated, “Mommy, too! Mommy faw down!”
She considered her clothes, a simple pair of jeans and a sweatshirt from the discount store Reid had been to. Expendable, especially if it would give her boy a moment of joy. “Fall down?” she said, then dropped to the ground and barrel rolled toward them.
Her antics sent Nicholas into peals of laughter and more childish tumbles and rolls. When she crawled across the last few feet of earth to join them, Reid reached to pluck a piece of grass from her hair. “Any idea who Miss Tee is?”
“Who?” she asked, chuckling her own amusement with Nicholas’s silliness.
“That’s what he said when he pointed across the water—Miss Tee.”
“Miss Tee...” She searched her brain for what, or whom, her toddler could be talking about.
Hearing their discussion, Nicholas ran up to her and flung himself against her chest with a devilish grin and enough momentum to knock her backward. “Miss Tee!”
She gave him a tickle and a kiss, and when she had struggled back to a seated position, he pointed across the inlet again exclaiming, “Miss-miss Tee!”
And it clicked as she spotted a small pine tree among the hardwoods on the shore. “Christmas tree! You see that Christmas tree, don’t you?”
Nicholas clapped and bounced happily. “Miss-miss tee!”
She turned to Reid with a lopsided smile, explaining, “He saw the decorated Christmas trees at the mall the last time we were there, and I promised him we’d put one up at our house soon. He’s been quite excited at the prospect. Kids have memories like steel traps.”
He bobbed a nod of understanding, then a thoughtful look crossed his face. “I think I have an ax in the shed.” He climbed to his feet and offered her a hand up. “Let’s get the boy his Christmas tree.”
* * *
They walked together around the inlet to the small pine tree Nicholas had spotted, and Reid had Pen’s son “help” drag the tree home after they’d cut it. He could see the pride and sentiment in Pen’s expression as she watched Nicholas enjoy the outing. Though the Coltons had relied on staff to decorate the house
every year, he’d heard of other families making it an annual event, heading out in the woods or to a Christmas tree farm to select and cut their tree. He knew without asking that Pen wanted family traditions like that for Nicholas. She’d always made a big deal at holidays for Andrew, and even included Reid in special meals and traditions. Corned beef and green beer at St. Patrick’s Day, grilling and fireworks on the Fourth of July, king cake and jambalaya at Mardi Gras. This past eighteen months since Andrew’s death, he’d missed sharing special days with his partner and his wife, so having this opportunity to kick off the Christmas season with her and Nicholas filled him with an indescribable satisfaction. A completeness that brought him a deep internal joy.
Once back at his lake house, he realized he didn’t have a Christmas tree stand. Or decorations. Or lights. He should have thought about the lack of holiday cheer at his safe house and offered to bring in some decor days ago. Pen and her son deserved as much holiday cheer as he could give them. His only excuse was that he simply didn’t think in terms of holiday preparations. At the ranch, the garlands and wreaths and lights just appeared around the house in the days after Thanksgiving.
But that oversight was something he could do something about. Pen tried to dissuade him from leaving to buy a houseful of decorations, but his mind was made up.
“We can improvise a stand from a bucket and make a few homemade ornaments and string some popcorn.”
“You’re welcome to do any of that with him that you want, of course. But...let me get some Christmas things to spruce the place up. I want to do this for you.”
He could see her reluctance in her eyes, and when she opened her mouth to refuse his offer, he stepped close to her and touched a finger to her lips. A crackle like an electric shock tingled on his skin, and caught off guard by the sensation, he held his breath. Her eyes widened, though he couldn’t be sure if she was simply surprised by his touch...or as affected by it as he was. Or both.
For a moment neither of them moved. He searched her gaze, lost in the changing shades of green and gold and brown in the hazel depths of her eyes. More than anything he wanted to kiss her. The pull was as strong as any urge he’d ever felt. The irritating voice that had sounded caution, had warned him away from his partner’s widow, whispered again. Don’t do it... Too risky... A mistake...
But Reid had lived most of his life on the edge, and he defaulted to reckless, selfish desire. With a hand on each of her shoulders, he drew her close and settled his mouth onto hers.
Chapter 12
Reid muffled the half gasp, half sigh that escaped her lips as he angled his lips over hers. She was still for a moment, her body rigid. He shifted closer, moving his hand to her cheek, and he felt a tremble race through her.
The warning voice spoke louder, firmer. Leave her alone! Off-limits!
He should back away. He knew he should, damn it!
But then her lips parted and she canted toward him. Her body brushed his, and her hand lifted to his back. Pen’s fingers curled into his shirt as if clinging for support, and the tip of her tongue darted out in a tentative invitation, lightly teasing the seam of his mouth. He deepened the kiss, drawing more fully on her lips, accepting her shy foray with a testing sweep of his tongue.
She tasted sweet and tempting, like a new adventure waiting to be revealed. His alpha drive to conquer, to explore, to rise to any challenge roared to life. His fingers delved into the thick waves of her hair and he captured the back of her head as he slaked his curiosity, his need.
Only the small sound that filtered through his lust-muddled focus held him back. He didn’t recognize what he’d heard right away. Only as his subconscious replayed the squeak-like noise did he realize it held notes of fear. Of regret. Of grief.
He stiffened, tightening his grip on her nape and lifting his mouth only a fraction. In the tiny crack of his composure, his conscience screamed, You can only disappoint her. You’re not what she needs. You will hurt her.
He jerked back from her, and his heart clenched seeing the confusion and pain that filled her face. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. She kept her chin down, and her brow furrowed with a deep crease.
He muttered an earthy curse word under his breath and dragged a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”
When she continued to stare at the floor, looking rather shell-shocked and torn, he gritted his teeth and swung toward the door. “Right. So...I’ll get those decorations and a few groceries and, um...” He dug his keys from his pocket and glanced at her once more. “Pen? Will you be all right if I...?” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder to finish the thought.
She blinked and dabbed at the outer corner of her eyes as she forced a smile. “Of course. I’m fine. Go.”
She didn’t look fine, but he didn’t argue. With a rock of regret and confusion sitting on his lungs, he beat a retreat to the Range Rover. And a little distance to get his own head around what he’d done. Had he opened the door to a deeper, satisfying sexual relationship with Pen...or had he ruined their fragile friendship?
* * *
Penelope was stringing popcorn with Nicholas, Christmas tunes streaming through the television, when Reid returned from the store. Just the sound of the back door opening and his deep, dulcet voice calling, “I’m back!” had her nerves jumping and her heart racing. She’d thought she’d pulled herself together after their toe-curling kiss—and the onslaught of guilt and second-guessing. Andrew was gone. He would want her to move on, find happiness again with someone who could be a good father to Nicholas and a loving husband to her. But was Reid Colton that man?
She couldn’t deny the joy she’d felt seeing him play with Nicholas earlier. He’d been infinitely patient with her toddler’s tantrums, high-maintenance needs and curiosity about every cranny of the lake house in the past several days. And she owed him so much for keeping them safe. But how could she forget the fact that he was a Colton? He’d had a hand in Andrew’s death, intentionally or not. And he had a reputation for commitment phobia, happily playing the bachelor or the womanizer when it suited him.
Kissing him back had been a mistake. She couldn’t lie to herself about that truth—she’d willingly returned his kiss. And although it had been an undeniably blood-heating, world-tilting, breath-stealing kiss, a kiss she hadn’t stopped thinking about since it happened, she couldn’t let it happen again. At least not until she figured out what she wanted from Reid. What he wanted from her. What possible sense could they make of a future together? Because with Nicholas in the picture, she couldn’t tangle herself up with a man who didn’t have every intention of sticking around, of being the whole package—husband, father, protector.
The rustle of packages brought her attention to the door of the kitchen where Reid appeared with several large bags. “Ho, ho, ho!”
Was his tone just a tad overbright? Tinged with stress and doubt?
“Nicholas, go see what Mr. Reid brought us.” She helped her son clamber to his feet and scurry over to peek in the bags.
“I have shiny ball ornaments, tinsel, lights, angels, garlands, holly...” He pulled box after box from the sacks and set them out for Nicholas to look at. “I see you got a head start.” He stuck his hand in the bag of microwave popcorn and shoved a handful in his mouth. When he licked the salt from his lips and fingertips, a fluttering stirred in her chest like a garden flag in the breeze.
Harry Connick, Jr. crooned “Sleigh Ride” from the TV, and her heart swooped and stumbled a syncopated rhythm right along with the beat set by the jazz singer. Pulling her gaze away, she continued poking popcorn on the needle and thread she’d rummaged up from his laundry room. “Patience is not a toddler trait. And this project doubles as a snack, so...win-win for me.” She flashed him a smile that felt strained. How were they supposed to move past the awkwardness after that kiss?
He popped another
few kernels in his mouth. “Good plan.”
“Except that movie-theater flavor was all you had, and it’s...well, quite buttery.” She held up her hand to show him her greasy fingers.
“Mommy!” Nicholas had found a stuffed Santa and waved it at her, his eyes shining. “Tanta?”
“That’s right. That’s Santa Claus.”
Reid lifted Nicholas onto his lap and asked, “What does Santa say?”
“Say?”
Reid took the stuffed figure and made it shake. In a low voice he demonstrated, “Ho, ho, ho!”
Nicholas grinned and blinked at him.
Reid repeated the deep laugh. “Now you try.”
Nicholas reached to grab his toy back. “Tanta.”
“He may be too young to understand,” she started when Nicholas shook the stuffed toy and cried, “Oh, oh, oh!”
Together, Reid and Penelope laughed and congratulated the boy.
“Close enough,” Reid said, setting Nicholas back on the floor. “Well, have fun.” He waved a hand at the decorations. “I’m going to get back to work. I was onto something when we took this side trip down Candy Cane Lane.”
“Hang on, pal.” Pen climbed to her feet, looking for something to wipe her greasy hands on. “It takes two to put a tree that size in a stand. Don’t cut and run yet.”
Reid glanced to his idle laptop, then back to her and the pine leaning against the wall, waiting for decorations. On the TV, “Deck the Halls” started joyfully streaming as Burl Ives’s “Frosty the Snowman” ended. He sighed and slid his hands into his jeans pockets. When it was clear he was about to put her off, Pen leaned down and whispered to Nicholas. Her son listened to her directions and looked up at Reid with his wide eyes blinking innocently. “Pweez, Weed?”
And who could have said no to her son’s cherubic face and sweet request? Not even the Grinch himself.
Colton Christmas Protector Page 13