Happy Ever After in Christmas

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Happy Ever After in Christmas Page 12

by Debbie Mason


  That warm tingle couldn’t hold a candle to the explosion of butterflies taking flight in her stomach when Sawyer raised his eyes and held hers. And neither, she realized, could Matt, at least in the looks department. At least for her. Sawyer’s scruff-lined jaw tightened as his eyes narrowed at her and Matt. She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Brandi, standing beside him behind the bar in her black-and-white-striped uniform top, looked like she wanted to blow the whistle around her neck and call time out. One by one the butterflies in Jill’s stomach climbed back into their cocoons at the reminder of his budding relationship with his manager. Jill knew where he’d spent his Sunday night. While she’d been curled up on her couch, bemoaning her lack of attraction to Jake, Sawyer’d been having Sunday dinner with Brandi and Trent. Jill knew this because nothing was sacred in a small town. But even if Grace and her pals hadn’t been buzzing about it, Jill would have found out anyway. Her boss had updated her about Ethan’s involvement in the case…and Sawyer’s.

  Trent was now aware that his father wanted to see him. Like his mother, he didn’t want anything to do with the man. Jill had a gut feeling the news wouldn’t be well received by Steve. And who knew how that would play out. In her experience domestic disputes were the worst…and the most dangerous for all involved. Jill decided she should probably have a word with Brandi to ensure she didn’t let down her guard.

  “I’m just going to have a quick word with Brandi,” Jill said to Matt, and took a step toward the bar. Brandi held her gaze while putting a proprietary hand on Sawyer’s bicep, drawing his attention to her. “On second thought, why don’t we just a grab a table?”

  “Sure, how about that one beside the dance floor? Or do you want to play a game of air hockey first?” He nodded at the purple table on the second level.

  Jill glanced back at him with a smile, the warm tingle reigniting in her stomach. “No contest. Air hockey. But I should warn you, I’m something of a pro.”

  “I like a confident woman.” He laughed, then leaned in and said close to her ear, “But I should warn you, I’m really good with my hands.”

  Since her confidence in her flirting abilities was next to none, she responded with a grin, silently cheering when a couple of butterflies remerged from their cocoons.

  Twenty minutes later they were still there, and she’d even managed to respond to a couple of Matt’s flirtatious remarks without blushing. If their date continued the way it…

  “Hey, Sawyer,” Matt said just as Jill scored another winning goal. He looked from the black disc to her. “You weren’t kidding. You really are good.”

  She smiled, pretending not to see Sawyer standing beside Matt. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d go away. “Thanks. So are you. Maybe we should—”

  “Good going, doc. Not many guys around here can claim to beating Jill.”

  Matt smiled at her. “Not that good. She beat me two games out of three.”

  She felt Sawyer watching her, the heat climbing to her cheeks. So what if she’d held back and let Matt win. She tried to let him win the last game, too, but it was too hard to make it look believable. And she’d been worried he’d hurt his hand if he overdid it.

  “You’re slipping, Shortstop. Come on, let’s have a go. You and me.”

  She clenched her jaw. “No, thanks. Matt and I are going to—”

  Sawyer crossed his arms over his tight white T-shirt, giving his head a fake concerned shake. “What did you do to our girl, doc? She’s never backed down from a challenge before.”

  “Jill, go ahead. I don’t mind,” Matt said.

  “Sawyer has to get back to work, and we—”

  “I always have time to play with you.”

  She blinked. Was he flirting with her? She ground her back teeth together. Of course he was. It was just one more trick in his date-breaking arsenal. She picked up her striker. “This won’t take long, Matt.”

  Sawyer grinned and then turned serious as he picked up a striker and got into position. The man was as competitive as she was. He was also as good. Which meant their game went a lot longer than hers and Matt’s. Sawyer’s shots were like bullets, and it took everything she had to defend her slot. He didn’t hold back with her. He never had. And he’d never let her win.

  “Good game,” she said grudgingly and wiped her forearm across her sweaty brow. He’d beat her by one goal. She looked around and frowned. “Where’s Matt?”

  Sawyer grinned and lifted his chin at the table beside the dance floor. “He went and sat down about ten minutes ago.”

  “You are such a…” She made a frustrated noise in her throat and walked off, forgetting she had on heels. She tripped on the stairs. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding her against a muscled chest.

  “Told you before, Jill. Lose the heels before you hurt yourself.”

  She shivered at the whisper of his low voice against her ear. Then regained her senses and elbowed him in the gut. “Back off, Anderson.”

  Matt’s gaze moved from her to Sawyer as she walked to the table and sat down. “I’m sorry, Matt. I—”

  He smiled. “You let me win, didn’t you?”

  “No, not all. It’s Sawyer. He makes me a little crazy, and I’ll do anything to beat him.”

  “Yeah, you two are pretty competitive. You can tell you’ve known each other a long time.”

  “Yeah, since I was five. He’s my brother’s best friend. But let’s not waste the night talking about—” She broke off, staring at Sawyer when he set two glasses of a ginger-colored drink on the table.

  He pulled up a chair between her and Matt. “On the house,” he said, nodding at the sweating glasses. If Jill wasn’t so thirsty, she’d dump it on his head. “Let me know what you think, Matt. It’s my new sports drink, Gold Rush.”

  Jill went to take the other glass, but Sawyer moved it out of her reach. “What the…How come I don’t get one?”

  “Because they make you…” He looked away and raised a hand. “Brandi, grab a lemon cola for Jill. Thanks.” He ignored Jill staring at him and said to Matt, who’d just taken a drink, “What do you think?”

  “Good. Really good. Probably the best sports drink I’ve tasted in a while. Where are you at in the development?”

  And that was it. Jill sat back and listened to the two men while sipping on her lemon cola that a ticked-off Brandi had grudgingly delivered a few moments ago. By that time Jill was a little ticked herself. She felt like a third wheel. But after a few minutes, she got caught up in the conversation. You couldn’t help but get swept up in Sawyer’s passion. Even if he was horning in on her date.

  As if he realized he’d been excluding her, Sawyer pulled her into the conversation. It wasn’t long before Jill realized they’d done the same to Matt. “Hey, Sawyer, looks like Brandi could use a hand at the bar,” she said, hoping he’d take the hint.

  “Nah, she’s fine,” he said, either not getting the hint or refusing to take it. She was betting on the latter and gave him a light kick under the table. He ignored that, too. “So how’s it going at Mountainview? Are you any closer to solving the case?”

  “It’s not really a case. I’m just—”

  “You should talk to Matt about it. You do a rotation at Mountainview, don’t you?”

  And that was it. Jill sat back while Sawyer laid out her concerns to Matt. Only this time she wasn’t going to let him monopolize Matt’s attention or the conversation. She mentioned two of the workers who’d been on vacation for the past two weeks. She hadn’t noticed any suspicious bruising on the residents since they’d been off.

  “Not much I can tell you given doctor-patient confidentiality, but it may be nothing more than that their skin is thinner and tends to bruise more easily as a result. And the majority of the residents are on some form of blood thinners. If it makes you feel better, I’ve never seen any signs of abuse. I’d report it if I did.”

  She hadn’t realized that, indirectly, it may have sounded like she thought Matt wasn’t doing
his job. “I know you would. And I’m sure you’re right. There probably isn’t—”

  “Doc’s probably right, Shortstop. I talked to Bill about it after you mentioned it. He hasn’t seen anything that gave him cause for concern. As far as any abuse going on, that is. But he’s a little worried that Mrs. Sharp has the hots for him.” He started to laugh and told her about Mrs. Sharp’s latest conversation with Bill.

  “If you think that’s bad, Mr. Applebee woke up to find Mrs. Sharp in bed with him last week,” Jill said, and that led to one story after another.

  It wasn’t until Matt pushed back his chair from the table that she realized they had once again excluded him from the conversation. “I’m going to take off. Leave you two alone,” Matt said as he stood up. “Jill, if it doesn’t work out between you and Sawyer, give me a call.”

  “What? No, Matt—”

  “Doc, you’ve got it all wrong. There’s nothing going on between us,” Sawyer protested as vehemently as Jill, or as vehemently as she would have if he hadn’t cut her off.

  “You’re lucky the glass is empty,” she muttered at Sawyer, then took off after Matt. “Matt, wait. Hold up.”

  Chapter Twelve

  It was the afternoon of little Jack’s birthday party, and Sawyer watched as his best friend climbed the oak tree in his backyard. “You look like a big egg that sprouted wings,” he informed Jack.

  “I’m a pterodactyl, dickhead. My son’s favorite dinosaur.” Jack reached back to detangle the pink wing on his costume.

  “A lot you know. A pterodactyl isn’t a dinosaur.” Sawyer shook his head with a laugh as his best friend got comfy on a branch with a crested hat on his head, swinging his claw-slippered feet.

  “I don’t know what you think is so funny. You look like a green glowworm with sparkly red triangles down your back.”

  “Hey, I’m a tyrannosaurus Rex. The biggest and baddest of them all. And I’m your son’s favorite. He told me so himself.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that was just to get you to stop whining and wear the costume. Grace told him to tell you that.” From inside the house came the squeals and shouts of what sounded like twenty kids. “Okay, Rex, you better find a place to hide. You don’t want my sister to find you. She’s got a gun.”

  “Are you kidding me? Why would you let Jill carry a gun at a four-year-old’s birthday party?” His voice went up an octave. He hoped Jack, Gage, and Ethan didn’t pick up on it. He could admit to himself that he was a little nervous, but he didn’t need to announce it to them. Jill was ticked at him, and rightly so. He’d been an ass. He still couldn’t figure out what had come over him. Something else he planned to keep telling himself. But he was hoping for a chance to at least apologize to her today. Preferably when she didn’t have a gun in her hands. Maybe he’d get lucky and one of the other women and their team of dinosaur hunters would find him before she did. The team who was first to take down a dinosaur won the game.

  He heard District Attorney Ethan O’Connor laughing from behind a bush on the other side of the backyard. “Do you hear the fear in his voice, guys? He’s worried Jill’s going to hunt him down after he ruined her date with Matt.”

  “I didn’t ruin her date, O’Connor,” Sawyer said, stomping toward the shed in his huge clawed feet. Just for that, he wasn’t telling Mr. DA his pointy purple head was sticking up from behind the bush. He could get shot first.

  “That’s not what she told Grace, buddy boy. And you ruined her date with Jake, too. I had high hopes for them. You’re just lucky she’s carrying a water gun and not a paint gun. Those suckers hurt,” Jack said from his perch in the tree.

  “Maybe you should test your wings, flyboy, and take a flying leap,” Sawyer grumbled as he ducked behind the shed. Slightly ticked and, if he was honest, still a little hurt to learn that Jack had set up Jill with Jake. What was so special about Callahan anyway?

  “That’s rich coming from you, Jack. You’ve been scaring off her dates since she was old enough to start dating. How was Sawyer supposed to know the game plan had changed?” Gage asked.

  Sawyer stuck his head around the corner of the shed and looked up in the tree. “Yeah, how was I supposed to know? Thanks, Gage,” he said, glancing to the rosebushes where Jill’s boss was hidden. “Buddy, your tail is sticking out.”

  “He knows because he’s the one who told me we should start setting her up,” Jack informed Gage. “So I did, and he blew it. Twice.”

  Sawyer grimaced. He’d forgotten about his panicked phone call from outside Bill’s room. Then he realized what else Jack had said. “You set her up with Trainer, too?”

  “No, Grace did. Now, can we stop acting like girls? They’re getting the kids into their squadrons. Stay strong and stay safe, my dinosaur friends.” Leaves fluttered down from the tree. “Rex, get your ass in the shed. They’re going to see you straightaway.”

  “Thanks,” Sawyer said, running around the side of the green-and-white shed that he’d thought would serve as camouflage. Apparently he was more neon than army green. He opened the shed door.

  “Anytime, buddy. I’ve always got your six,” Jack called down from his perch in the tree.

  He did. Unless it came to his sister. Sawyer got inside, pulled his eight-foot tail in behind him, and closed the door.

  From inside the tight space, he heard the back door open and bang against the house a couple of times. He winced at how they were wrecking his paint job. He and Jack had renovated the purple Victorian a couple years back as part of their community service. Sawyer had a soft spot for the old house. It had gone a long way to helping him and Jack repair their friendship after Sawyer nearly destroyed it.

  Hooting and hollering broke out as the kids swarmed the yard. Jack wouldn’t be impressed with their squadron leaders lack of control.

  “Dino team three, with me now,” Jill barked out.

  Sawyer started to laugh.

  “We’re hunting T. Rex,” she said.

  Sawyer stopped laughing and edged to the corner of the shed where there was a sliver of light. He pressed his eye to the hole, scoping out the yard. All he had to do was make it to the back door without them taking him down, and he’d be King Dino for the day. More importantly he’d be dry. He had no doubt the water gun Jill was packing was of the Super Soaker variety.

  He caught sight of Nell McBride leading her merry band of hunters down the driveway. Madison, with her son, Connor, in her arms, followed Nell to the front yard. Sawyer moved a little to the right. Skye, carrying her daughter, Evie, with her troop following close behind, was headed toward the bushes where her husband was hiding. There was no way she’d miss…

  “Oh, look at the pretty butterfly,” Skye said, turning her back on the bush and waving her hand behind her. When Ethan jumped up and sprinted for the back door, Sawyer opened his mouth to call her out for cheating. He quickly closed it when a leggy brunette in faded jean shorts, a blue T-shirt, and flip-flops came into view. He’d been right. Jill was carrying the mother of all water guns.

  As she started for the shed, Sawyer came up with a plan. He had the element of surprise on his side. Shuffling toward the door, he flung it open and roared. Jill shot him in the face.

  * * *

  “You weren’t choking for that long. All you had to do was stop roaring. Now quit whining and keep moving,” Jill said, her chest pressed to his, her hands tied behind her back.

  If he was whining about choking on the gallon of water she’d shot down his throat, it was because he was trying to distract himself. They were roped into being partners—both literally and figuratively—by Nell and Ty. The chocolate dinosaur egg they were transporting to the nest was cradled in Jill’s cleavage. “Our egg is melting,” he said, unable to take his eyes off the smear of chocolate on her chest. He had an uncontrollable urge to lick it.

  Her gaze jerked to his. “Don’t even think about it, Anderson. Your tongue comes within an inch—”

  How the hell did she read him like that? “You hav
e a dirty mind, Jill. I wasn’t thinking about licking your…I was thinking about my T-shirt. I don’t want to get it covered in chocolate.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ve had that T-shirt for at least ten years. It’s about time you tossed it.”

  His response was on the tip of his tongue, but it stalled there when her hipbones rubbed against him. There was barely room for a whisper of air to move between them. He felt every inch of her pressed up close and personal against him. Too close, too warm, too soft. If they didn’t deliver the egg soon, he was going to find himself in an embarrassing situation. Possibly dangerous if his best friend caught on. Forget his best friend—Jill would probably take care of the problem with a knee to Sawyer’s groin.

  He bit back a groan as they moved a few more feet. More rubbing, more friction, more heat. Jesus, he knew this was a mistake as soon as Nell and Ty paired them off. Maybe if Jack hadn’t challenged him, Sawyer would have backed down, but he and his best friend had been in competition since grade school.

  “Come on, princess, we’re almost there,” Jack encouraged Grace, their team of munchkins cheering them on.

  Right, there were kids watching. Not that Skye, Ethan, Gage, and Madison seemed to care. They were all having one hell of a good time keeping their eggs between them. Sawyer would be surprised if their baby dinosaurs came out of it alive. He’d be having some fun, too, if he wasn’t partnered with Jill. Wasn’t having these inappropriate thoughts of melting chocolate and licking it off every inch of her glowing skin…Aw hell. So much for PG. He glanced at Jill.

  Her breath hitched, and her face flushed.

  Yeah, obviously she could feel every inch of him, too. “Stop rubbing against me,” he said from between clenched teeth.

  “I’m not doing it on purpose,” she said, pulling back. The egg dropped to their waists. Instinctively they both pushed their lower halves together at the same time. She sucked in a sharp breath.

 

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