Red-Hot Santa
Page 14
When Max’s mother Cindy had called earlier in the day to say she was bringing Max by tonight, well, he had an idea…?.
One he thought might be so corny she’d laugh at him.
But it was too late now.
Well, except for the jacket.
He shrugged out of it and hung it on a bottle on the shelf behind him.
Now all he had to do was…?.
What?
His mind went blank.
The conversation with his brother in this very same place hadn’t gone anything like he’d expected it to. Outside his surprise that he was going to be an uncle in six months, he would never have expected Jason’s reaction to his Africa story, Linc’s involvement included.
Once concluded, he’d braced himself for a torrent. Instead, Jason had remained silent for the longest time…then said, “And what are your plans now?”
That was it. No full front assault. No sucker punch to the gut for having gotten into trouble. No “I told you so” or “What in the hell were you thinking?” Not even a single “You’re going to pay me back every dollar lost on getting your loser ass out of the jungle.”
Just that simple question.
So he’d told him. “I’ll concede you were right all along. I’m not meant for Lazarus…or any other security detail for that matter.”
His brother had looked around. “So this is going to be it, then?”
“Looks like. I haven’t spoken to Chuck about any long-term plans, but I will. Maybe I can expand the kitchen, buy the old hardware store next door and turn it into a restaurant.”
There was nothing wrong with those plans. He’d always enjoyed himself in the kitchen.
He’d just never thought he’d be doing it for the rest of his life.
Then Jason had said something that surprised him even more. “Find a girl, settle down, have a few kids…?.”
It was on the tip of Jackson’s tongue to say he’d already fucked that up but good.
He’d squinted at his brother. “Yeah, just what you always wanted for me.”
“No, it’s what I wanted you to want.”
“Difference being?”
“That you were never interested in it.”
They shared a smile.
“Yes, well, I guess I’m interested now,” Jackson offered.
Jason had looked at him closely. “Are you?”
No.
“Didn’t think so.”
Jackson hadn’t quite known how to respond. So he didn’t.
For so long he’d wanted to be a part of Lazarus. To work with his brother. To prove what he was made of. But his experience with Pegasus and the mission in Africa had proven the kitchen was where he belonged.
Then Jason took something out of his back pocket. A rectangular bit of paper that looked like a business card, but was creased and worn, as if it had been in there awhile.
He looked at Jackson, smoothing whatever it was out. Then he placed it on the bar and slid it toward him.
“What’s that?”
Jason didn’t answer. Instead he seemed to smile a bit as he took a silent swig from his bottle.
Jackson leaned forward. It was a business card. For Lazarus. But the name…
He’d blinked. And blinked again, certain he was imagining things.
But, no. Spelled out in neat type was something he’d wanted for so long, yet now that he had it, he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.
His name.
“I don’t understand. I fucked up.”
Jason shook his head. “No, little brother, you didn’t. You proved you have exactly what it takes. You not only got yourself and your men out alive, you did whatever you needed to, including calling Linc, in order to do it.”
He still wasn’t following him.
“The mission failed.”
“Missions often do. You know that.”
He did.
“What you did was realize you need others. That no mission is a solo mission. So welcome to Lazarus.”
Now, a week later, the worn card was still in his back pocket. He was working everything out, letting it settle in. Jason had told him when he was ready, an office was waiting for him, along with a box of cards exactly like the one he’d given him.
That his brother had it planned all this time, was just waiting for him to learn…what, exactly? Blew his mind.
Speaking of things that blew his mind…?.
It seemed like an eternity had passed since Max had entered the bar along with her mother and aunt, yet it was only a few moments.
What had she told him the last time he saw her? That he wasn’t alone?
At the time, he couldn’t have felt any more so.
Now?
Now he understood that it wasn’t success that defined him—not only professionally but personally—it was the people he relied on, the people who relied on him.
The people he loved.
He made a move toward Max and she immediately tried to break ranks and run back out the door.
Jackson nearly vaulted over the bar, gaining the attention of everyone inside and earning a couple of wolf whistles. But Max was faster, rushing out into the parking lot.
“You better not hurt her any more than you already have,” he heard her mother say as he passed.
He burst out onto the sidewalk, but she was still running.
“Max!”
She didn’t break her stride.
Damn.
Clad in nothing but a T-shirt, his Santa pants, boots and suspenders, he gave chase.
A small voice in the back of his head told him this was dumb. She would have to stop eventually. He could catch up with her later, when she was open to the idea of talking to him.
But a louder voice told him he needed to catch her now and tell her what he’d been burning to tell her for years.
That he needed her forgiveness.
He caught up with her and caught her around the waist in front of a small, corner park. They both went down, falling into a snow pile.
She wriggled. He held fast.
“Shh,” he whispered into her ear from behind, unsure of why he was doing so. He just wanted her to stop fighting him. To look at him the way she had before.
After a few moments, she went still. But he didn’t fool himself into thinking it was because she didn’t want to be free.
The snow was cold against his bare arms and was beginning to melt through his T-shirt and pants. Still, he held fast, his restraining hold becoming more of an embrace as he worked her closer to him.
“Let me go,” she whispered.
Jackson closed his eyes and rubbed his nose in her sweet-smelling hair. “I can’t…”
She elbowed him sharply in the ribs, twisted his arm from around her and freed herself. She crawled quickly away on all fours. He caught her right foot and pulled her back down.
She had a couple more escape attempts—and a couple more falls—before they finally sat in the snow facing each other, out of breath…?.
She picked up a snowball and threw it at him, hard. It hit against the side of his face and slid down.
“Okay, I deserved that.”
She threw another one.
“That, too.”
She formed another one.
“The next you get back.”
She hit him squarely in the chest.
“Okay, that does it.”
He dived for her. She squeaked, her laughter like a salve to his battered heart as he grabbed a handful of snow and worked it down the front of her shirt.
She gasped. “No fair!”
“I warned you…”
They wrestled around.
“Get a room,” a passerby grumbled.
He and Max watched him walk away in the other direction, then they burst out laughing.
He squeezed her hard against him. “You ready to call a truce?”
There was a moment’s silence, then, “No.”
“Okay, then marry me, a
nd we can fight this out for the rest of our lives.”
Jackson wasn’t sure where the words had come from. All he knew was that after saying them, he’d never felt better about anything in his life.
She moved to elbow him but this time he was prepared. “No fair,” she whispered so quietly he nearly didn’t hear her.
He turned her so he could see her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Max.”
She refused to look at him.
“I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for denying what I felt for you. I’m sorry for turning you away when I should have let you in.”
She slowly met his gaze, her eyes bright.
He caressed the side of her face. “But mostly I’m sorry for not telling you this the first day we met.”
He kissed her softly, lingeringly.
“I love you.”
She made a sound between a whimper and a moan as he deepened his kiss. She melded into him and he held her tightly, letting her know he never wanted to let go.
And hopefully the response she was giving him meant he would never have to…?.
“Well, it’s about damn time you two got it right.”
Jackson reluctantly pulled back. They turned to find Max’s mom and aunt standing on the sidewalk next to them.
“Now get up out of that snow before you both catch pneumonia and die before we get to enjoy the wedding we’ve been planning since you both were eight,” her mom added.
“Seven,” her aunt corrected.
“Whatever. Now, come on. We’ve got a new year to celebrate…”
Epilogue
A WEEK LATER, Jackson stood at the front of the Lazarus meeting room addressing ten of the best team members he’d had the honor to lead; first and foremost, Max, who stood near the front, her very essence seeming to light the room.
Whenever he wasn’t at Lazarus planning this mission, he and Max were in his bedroom making up for lost time. A lot of it.
And he soon found himself wearing that silly grin that seemed to permanently widen his brother’s face.
He was going to be an uncle. And a husband. And, soon, maybe a father…?
The idea nearly derailed his thoughts.
Nearly.
Included in the group were the five members from the failed Pegasus mission, none of whom had hesitated when he’d not only called them to come work for him, but to return to Africa. He felt pride in seeing them all standing there in front of him, alert and ready. Including Taylor.
“Okay, you’re holding the mission plan in front of you,” he said, referring to the thirty-page document he’d handed out as each member came in the door. “We leave in forty-eight hours. We’ll be meeting three times before that to hammer out any further details. Questions?”
No one.
Good.
“See you at 1700, then.”
The team members filed out of the room, leaving him and Max alone. She came to stand next to him.
“We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?”
He searched her face for signs of anxiety. There were none.
He grinned. “Yes, we are.”
His first order of business, upon officially signing up with Lazarus, was arranging to go in after the hostages they’d been forced to leave behind in Africa. While he didn’t expect their recovery would make everything all right, he did hope that it would mean the loss of so many lives in the original effort hadn’t been in vain.
He’d also taken great pleasure in slapping a cease and desist injunction against Pegasus. If they tried to involve themselves in a similar mission, he would roll over them like an M1 Abrams Main Battle Tank…?.
Max surprised him by kissing him.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you more,” he said back.
There was movement from the doorway and a few choice curse words filled the room. “Criminy, will you two at least shut the door first?” Jason asked.
His grin belied his true feelings as he slammed the door, leaving them alone.
“Now, where were we…?” Jackson asked.
Max hummed and rubbed her nose against his. “Right here, I think…”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-8175-2
RED-HOT SANTA
Copyright © 2011 by Lori Karayianni & Tony Karayianni
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue