“Every Christmas the Summerfield Police Department has a bike drive for kids who are underprivileged. Who do you think assembles those things—on-duty police officers?” She didn’t wait for Jay to answer. “Nope. My dad always brought home about ten of them each year, and I’m the one who got stuck putting them together.”
“Your dad had you assemble other kids’ bikes but never bought you one?” Jay asked, incredulous.
“You’re doing it again,” Sarah warned. “I know I’m different.”
“Sorry.” Jay set the tire aside and reached for her. She leaned against him, looking up at the tree.
“I did ride them around the living room when he wasn’t home. One year I even took a bike out in the backyard.”
“Ah,” Jay said. He rubbed her arm, wishing he could rub away the hurt in her voice. “So you weren’t being entirely truthful when you said you didn’t know how to ride.”
“I didn’t think wobbling around on the grass counted,” Sarah said.
Jay considered. “I guess you’re right. Help me finish this thing, and your deception is forgiven.”
He reached for the tire and pressed it into Sarah’s free hand. “Tell you what. Now that the odds are fair, we’ll race.” He pulled the other box closer and ripped it open. “To experiencing our first kiss by . . .” He glanced at the clock. “Nine p.m. On your mark, get set—”
“No.” Sarah practically dropped her bike. “Get down,” she whispered, eyes fixed on the window beside the tree.
“Crying uncle already?”
She leaned close, pressing a finger to his lips just as the doorbell rang. “I saw a shadow through the blinds. Someone was at the window,” she whispered, pointing.
Jay eased his bike to the floor behind the tree. He pushed the castle back there too and moved the tools aside. Sarah unplugged the tree lights and followed him toward the hall. Someone lifted the knocker and rapped it three times.
“Hello,” a jolly voice called.
“Who’d be visiting at this hour on Christmas Eve?” Sarah whispered. “Especially when no one is supposed to be here?”
Jay shrugged. “Everyone might not know they’re out of town. Maybe it’s someone from their church. Haven’t you noticed it’s a thing with Mormons? They seem to believe in bringing casseroles and banana bread to everyone, kind of like the Wise Men bringing gifts. They’ll probably leave it on the porch.”
The doorbell rang again.
“Or not.” Kirk said we’d be safe here, but . . .
Jay stepped into a bedroom, tugging Sarah behind him. He shut the door and locked it. “We can hang out here until they leave.”
“Jay?” She felt for him in the dark then wrapped her arms around him, fingers tickling the back of his neck, causing his heart to race. With one hand he traced her jawline. She tilted her face up to his.
He squinted in the darkness, trying to read her expression.
The knocker sounded a second time.
“Go away, we’re busy,” Jay growled.
Sarah giggled, then they both froze at the sound of a key turning in the lock and the front door opening. She tensed in Jay’s arms, and his heart began racing for an entirely different reason.
“The police?” she whispered.
Or worse. “I don’t know.” He pried Sarah’s fingers away and turned in a slow circle, looking for a place to hide her. “In there.” He eased the closet doors open and tried to clear a space inside—an impossibility, he realized after only a few seconds. The closet was jammed full of number-ten cans. “What is it with these people?”
Voices came from the living room, and he could hear at least two pairs of feet walking around on the squeaky floor.
“Over here,” Sarah whispered.
Jay squinted through the dark and saw Sarah slide the window open. When the screen wouldn’t budge, she took a pen from the nightstand and punctured it. He hurried forward to help her rip the hole wide enough for each of them to crawl through.
Sarah climbed up, and he helped her squeeze through the window. Jay followed, then reached inside, sliding the glass closed behind them. He took Sarah’s hand and they ran toward the front yard, stopping short at the sound of voices coming from the front of the garage.
They shrank back into the closest bushes. Jay looked at the footprints they’d left in the snow and knew anyone who walked this way would notice too. But there was no time to do anything about it. A man and a woman had rounded the corner of the house and were headed straight for them.
“I know I saw a light inside,” the woman said.
“Probably a timer,” the man said. “I told you they were still out of town. They asked us to keep bringing in the mail through next week.” He stopped in front of the motor home parked in the side yard. “Now let’s see about the key.”
Jay watched as the man reached under the step. A second later he held up a key and inserted it into the lock. Both he and the woman went inside.
Good thing we didn’t hide in there. Jay was tempted to try to sneak out of the yard, but he worried the man or woman might see him and Sarah from the front windshield—literally feet from their hiding spot.
A few minutes passed and the couple came out of the RV. Each wheeled a kid’s bike in front, which they took out to the street, presumably to put in their car. They both returned to the motor home again, this time carrying out several large packages. The man balanced his pile against the door while he locked it and replaced the key in its hiding place. He followed his wife to their van parked on the street.
Jay felt his tension release as he heard them drive off.
“Neighbors,” he said, turning to Sarah. “Hiding their Christmas presents.” He tried to chuckle, but his throat was too dry.
Sarah was crouched beside him, one knee on the ground, the other leg up, poised to spring. A pointy stick was clutched in her fist.
“Nice weapon.” He stood, then reached down to help her.
“Jab their eyes out. Immediate results.” Both her voice and hands shook.
“I’ll remember that.” He recalled how well she’d defended herself against her attackers in the alley and at the car today. She wasn’t strong, but screaming her head off, throwing gravel, and spraying pepper spray had worked pretty well. Not to mention, she did know how to handle a gun. Noticing she still held the stick in a death grip, he said, “That violent streak of yours is rearing its head again.”
“Survivor’s instinct is more like it.” She opened her fist, and the stick fell to the ground. He helped her through the window. She sat on the bed, watching as he climbed through behind her.
“I’d say your instincts are pretty good,” Jay said.
“I had a good coach.”
“Your dad?” Jay closed the window and sat beside her. He’d have to let Kirk know the screen needed to be replaced before the honeymooners returned. “Have you ever wondered why?”
She looked at him, the moonlight casting shadows across her worried face.
“Just recently.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
The grandfather clock chimed as Jay wedged Spiderman handle grips onto the bike. His eyes locked with Sarah’s as they listened to nine peals.
“I don’t suppose you’re still in the mood to . . .”
Her face, much calmer than it had been half an hour earlier, was puzzled. “You mean it goes away for you?”
Jay laughed and grabbed for her, but she jumped up, moving out of his reach. They stood facing each other in front of the Christmas tree.
“As a matter of fact, no,” Jay said. “The feeling of wanting you does not go away for me. It keeps intensifying.”
A smile of relief lit her face. “Me too. I’m glad I’m normal.”
“Want to find out just how normal?” he asked.
She licked her lips then looked at both the clock and the remaining bike parts strewn across the floor. “What about the bikes, Santa?”
“Let the elves finish.” Walking to the me
dia cabinet, Jay searched through the CDs until he found one of Christmas classics. He put it in and turned the volume down low. Returning to the tree, he beckoned her closer with the crook of his finger. She stepped into his embrace.
“I’m about to kiss you for the first time, and you’re not blushing,” he whispered.
She met his gaze. “I’m not embarrassed, just impatient.”
Taking her face in his hands, he tilted his head and bent to kiss her. Her eyes were wide open, looking into his. A millimeter away, he paused. “You’re not supposed to look, you know.”
“Why can’t I watch the best moment of my life?”
He had no answer except to crush his lips against hers in a kiss that felt nothing like the first light touch he’d imagined.
She didn’t seem to mind. Her hands tightened around his neck, pulling him closer while the Carpenters crooned in the background.
At last they broke apart, Sarah’s eyes swimming with tears, Jay sucking in a big lungful of air.
“Wow, that was—” he began, then stopped, noticing her expression. “You’re crying?”
“Happy,” she managed, freeing one hand to wipe at her eyes. “Twenty-four years is a long time to wait for a first kiss.” She smiled through her tears. “But oh, was that worth it. That was the best gift I’ve ever had. Merry Christmas, Jay.”
* * *
Sarah snuggled closer to Jay as they leaned against the sofa on the floor beside the Christmas tree. Their first kiss had been followed by half a dozen more already. It was tempting to add to that number, but she also relished the simple joy of being beside Jay, looking up at the lights twinkling overhead. In the background “The Christmas Song” played softly. For the first time, she felt the magic of the season, the spellbinding miracle of being in love and loved in return. She wished they could stay like this forever.
Jay turned to face her, propping an elbow on the sofa cushion. “Want your Christmas present early?”
“Present?” She sat up quickly, dismay rushing in to drown out the warmth in her heart. “I can’t give you yours yet.”
“You haven’t already?” he teased.
“I thought the kiss was your gift for me,” she said. “I wrote a song for you. But with the neighbors out and about, I don’t dare play it.”
“You wrote a song for me?” he asked, sounding awed. “No one’s ever done anything like that. It must have taken a lot of time.”
“It helped me not miss you so much these past few weeks.”
“You wrote it while you weren’t speaking to me?” Jay asked.
“I finished it then. I couldn’t stand to think that our friendship was over. Doing something for you helped me while I was sorting things out.”
“Friendship, huh?” He sat up, facing her, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, brown envelope. “For the record, I don’t kiss friends the way I just kissed you. I’d like to think we’re a little more—serious.” He placed the envelope in her hand. “This used to be in a nice, white box, but I left it upstairs the night Kirk fixed my shoulder. Jeffrey got a hold of it yesterday. He thought it looked like a sugar cube, so he tried to feed it to his horse.”
“What horse?” Sarah asked.
“James,” Jay said, grinning. “I was just happy Christa caught them before Jeffrey made him chew and swallow the whole thing.”
Sarah laughed as she pulled back the flap and took out a pearl ring set in a silver band. She held it up beside a light on the tree, turning it slowly. “Oh, Jay. It’s beautiful.”
She pulled her gaze from the ring to his face, which was taut with uncertainty. “You’re so thoughtful. I’ve never had a ring—or any jewelry.” She ran her finger over the polished stone.
“I got it at the antique store where I bought your music. I wasn’t intending to get a ring that day, but I saw it, and I imagined it on your finger.” He paused. “Imagined us . . .”
Imagined us what? Sarah felt half-dazed, half-agitated, like she did when realizing she’d just missed a joke in the lunch conversation.
Jay was still talking, his words rushed together as if he were afraid he wouldn’t be able to get them all out. “Then, when you told me about your mother, I knew. So many of my ancestors have this great story of some fateful meeting with the person they were destined to be with. And I never really believed it, but then at the restaurant that night—” He stopped abruptly.
Her fist closed over the ring, and she held it close to her heart as she looked at him. His brow was furrowed with worry. He reached for her left hand, taking it in his.
“You’re like that pearl, Sarah, exquisite and rare, emerging from the shell you’ve been trapped in your whole life.” Jay paused, swallowing. “I was hoping you would do me the honor of wearing the ring and—of someday being my wife.”
“You want to marry me?” She felt her mouth hang open on the last syllable and forced it shut. Never in a million years would she have guessed he would ask her such a thing tonight.
He nodded. “I know it probably seems too fast, too soon, but I love you, Sarah. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”
And if one of those lives is cut short? Sarah opened her fist and looked down at the ring resting on her palm as she grappled with her conflicting feelings. She felt overwhelmed—ecstatic. She’d never imagined anyone would want to marry her. And to have Jay—whom she loved with her whole heart . . .
“I love you, Jay.” She voiced the emotions she’d felt for weeks but had been too afraid to examine or express. “I’m in love with you, but—”
“A convicted felon isn’t what you had in mind?” She heard his doubt and hurt.
“No.” She brought his hand to her face and held it there. “This has nothing to do with your past and everything to do with right now.” She read the uncertainty in his expression just as she had that night at the restaurant when he’d laid bare his soul, his feelings exposed for her to stomp on or cherish. Seeing this side of him, this vulnerability hovering beneath the surface of the confident man, Sarah’s heart melted. How many other things don’t I know about you, don’t you know about me? A ton, she imagined. They’d covered a lot of territory in the past few months, but there was a lot more to cross. More than anything she wanted to be around to do that, to be with him.
“How can we even think about getting married when our lives are so upside down? When we don’t even know if I’ll be around to meet you at the altar.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Jay said, the confident man back in place. “We’re going to figure out what your dad and cousin are up to. It’s all going to work out.”
“It isn’t just my dad and Carl that I’m worried about,” Sarah said.
“What then?”
She looked down at her lap. “This morning—those men—they weren’t working for my father. When I suggested as much, the one with the UZI laughed. He also told me that if it were up to him, he would have taken care of me right there.” She shuddered, thinking of the scratches on his face and the bullet wound in his hand. “If I run into him again, I have no doubt he’ll do just that.”
Jay’s worried look returned. “Why didn’t you tell Kirk this?”
Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. He was so busy telling us things, and my brain was befuddled from being so close to you.” She tilted her head, looking up at him with a half smile.
“You’re befuddled now.” Jay’s free hand tousled her curls. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Tomorrow we’ll be in protective custody. That’s big time. And Kirk knows what he’s doing. He’s not your average small-town deputy.”
“Nor are you the average guy,” Sarah said.
“Nor you the average girl.” His eyes followed hers, staring at the hand holding the ring.
“I’m scared,” Sarah admitted, a catch in her voice. “I’m afraid if I say yes—and I want to—something else will happen. We went to the Yale game, and Mrs. Larson died in the fire. I convinced Trish and Archer to help me
bail you out, and Archer was shot. I stayed with Kirk and Christa, and James was almost kidnapped. What’s going to happen if I agree to marry you?”
“We’re both going to be incredibly happy, that’s what,” Jay said. “We’re not talking about cause and effect here. No matter what we do next, the bad guys are still going to be bad—until they’re caught and brought to justice. And we’re going to help with that.”
“I don’t know,” Sarah said. “We’re both lucky to still be alive, but how much longer can that luck hold out?”
“It wasn’t luck that brought us together. It was fate.” Jay pulled her hands from her face to his and leaned forward, his lips brushing her knuckles. “Destiny, Sarah Morgan. I’m sure of it. But”—he sighed—“if you’re not, we’ll wait. I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want. Heaven knows you’ve had enough of that your whole life.”
“I know what I want,” she said adamantly. “I want you, and I want to know we’ll both be safe—that I’m not going to lose one more person I love, that I’m not going to cause you any more pain.”
“I’ll give you anything you want, Sarah. I’d get the moon and stars for you if I thought it were possible.”
“I don’t need the moon and stars,” Sarah said. “Just you. Safe.”
“I’m right here.”
She studied the ring in her palm—a different ring, unusual, like everything about their relationship. Everything. Could that include an engagement that involved police warrants, hiding out, protective custody, and the DEA? If it involves Jay, what else matters?
Sarah took a deep breath and expelled it, letting go of as much of her fear as she could. Her mouth bloomed in a smile as she held the ring out to Jay. “Will you put it on for me?”
“Is that a yes?”
Her eyes sparkled then filled with tears. She nodded and tried to speak, but the lump in her throat reduced her voice to a mere whisper. “Yes, Jay. I’ll marry you. I don’t know when—” She tried to laugh, but instead the tears started spilling down her face. “Or where or how, but I’ll do my best to be around to keep my promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” He took her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger. “We’ll wait until this is all over. You’ll have a beautiful gown, and we’ll get married in an ivy-covered church with bells pealing. You’ll get to walk down the aisle on your father’s—” Jay stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
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