by Geri Krotow
“Have you met anyone, Kayla?”
“Yes. But it’s not going to work out, either.” Her eyes misted and he wondered who had gotten to the sturdy woman he’d “barely dated.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. My choice, not his. Here, let me wrap that up for you. You’re buying it, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
He couldn’t pretend to regret that he and Kayla hadn’t worked out. There was one woman for him, probably had only ever been one woman since they were twelve years old. But he’d like to know Kayla had found happiness, too.
It seemed she still had some struggles along those lines. He was certainly familiar with the concept that the path to love wasn’t always smooth.
“Here you go. There’s a card with the jeweler’s information on it in the box, but Zora knows her. She buys a lot of her pieces from her shop.”
Doubt made him pause. “What if she has already this one?”
“She doesn’t. This is the first year Lori has made a Christmas line.”
“Thanks. Merry Christmas, Kayla.”
“Merry Christmas, Bryce.”
* * *
“Allow your body to flow from your strong plank position to downward dog. Don’t be afraid to let your bottom reach for the sky.”
Zora followed along to the yoga class she was streaming on her laptop, trying to let the stress of the case and the worries of the tomorrow’s services stay at the church. Butternut lay on the sofa nearby, ever vigilant for an intruder.
She wasn’t expecting anyone, not with the double security detail surrounding her land 24/7. Bryce thought the killer would strike tomorrow, as did Claudia. The murderer’s poem wasn’t dependable as far as timing was concerned. He’d murdered before the last Sunday of Advent, and he could murder before Christmas Day. That left Christmas Eve, either during the children’s service when the Christmas pageant took place, or the later evening service that was attended mostly by adults.
Playing Reverend Colleen Hammermill was getting tiresome, she had to admit. It would be worth it when they caught the sick bastard.
“Ease into your cobra position and remember to breathe.”
As she exhaled she tried to visualize her life when it got back to normal. No more wigs or heavy suits or ugly shoes.
No more seeing Bryce every day, either. Unless...
She tried to clear her mind, as yoga required, but her thoughts kept interfering.
Bryce wouldn’t go away. Would he?
That didn’t have to be how things went, did it? He’d said he wanted to move forward once the case was closed.
They didn’t have to leave their desires unfulfilled. Unless one of them decided to. Unless Bryce realized he could never trust her after all.
Twenty minutes and six yoga poses later she sat in lotus position with her legs crossed and her hands on her knees. She’d needed the stretching after such a long day.
The stillness of the living room was broken only by the soft crackling of the fire she’d started when she’d returned from the church.
Heavy footsteps sounded on her porch at the same instant Butternut alerted. Her heart felt as if it lunged forward in its own downward dog and she jolted in her sitting position.
“Easy, girl. We’re safe.”
Were they?
As soon as she spotted the familiar figure on the porch steps through the window she knew they were more than safe. But was her heart?
Enough. Bryce might really need something from her.
She yanked open the door. “Bryce! Has something happened?”
Snowflakes glistened on his hair and his face was flushed from the cold. A nor’easter had started its slow move up the coast and it was predicted to bring up to six inches to central Pennsylvania.
“Nothing’s happened, and it probably won’t until at least tomorrow. I thought I’d bring you a treat and we could talk over our working strategy for the next few days.”
“Strategy?” She couldn’t keep from teasing him; he was so transparent.
“Can I come in first? It’s a little chilly out here, and the patrol is going to wonder why you’re being so mean to me, keeping me exposed to the elements.”
She opened the door and he strode in, handing her a large gift bag.
“What on earth?”
“The appropriate response is ‘Thank you, Bryce.’”
“Thank you, Bryce. You know where to hang your coat.” She motioned to the coatrack that stood behind her door and walked into the kitchen, where she placed the bag on the table.
“Can I open it now?” she hollered to Bryce down the hall.
“Hang on.”
He was back at her side in a few seconds. Clad in a thermal shirt under a flannel plaid, jeans and what looked like hand-knit socks, his appearance screamed boyfriend.
“Did someone knit those socks for you?”
“Huh?” He looked at his feet and held one up for her closer inspection. “Actually, yes. My aunt. Do you remember her? She lives up on the hill, not far from here.”
“Your aunt Henrietta? The one who made me matching scarves and hats all through high school because you wouldn’t wear anything she’d knit for you?”
“Yup, that’s the one. And her skills have greatly improved. I don’t mind wearing these socks at all.”
“Socks are fun, but they do take a lot of time. She used good wool for you with those.” She recognized the green hue as one of the colors in her favorite sock fiber blend, and named the company.
“I don’t know if that’s it, but you’re probably right. She told my mother the socks cost more than if she’d bought me a sweater.”
“That’s about right.”
“I don’t get it. Why would you spend so much money on yarn?”
“Why do you spend so much money on the best weapon? So it won’t fail when you need it, right? Quality, performance, durability.”
“You are the only woman in the world who could draw a parallel between yarn and a deadly weapon.”
“Don’t be so sure about that. Can I see what’s in the bag now? Wait—what’s in the other bag, the one you put on the counter?”
“Those are potato doughnuts, for later. I wasn’t sure if you liked them or not but they’re a Christmas favorite of mine, along with sand-tart cookies.”
Christmas Eve was tomorrow. Was he planning on staying through the night?
“Go ahead, open your gift.”
Eagerly she removed the layers of purple tissue paper to reveal a bottle of red wine, a box of local Santa-shaped dark chocolates and a small box.
“What’s in the box, Bryce?”
“Open it and find out. Don’t worry, it’s not something crazy.”
Tell her heart that. It pumped in triple time as she wondered what it would be like to get that kind of jewelry from Bryce.
Stop it.
She popped open the dark green velveteen box to reveal a contemporary Christmas broach. It was a primitive outline in silver of the Nativity scene with a sparkling crystal jewel at the top of the stable to give an overall impression of the Christmas spirit without being gaudy.
“It’s beautiful! This is just like the kind of jewelry I wear.”
“I know. It turns out the designer is someone you know. She only started doing Christmas styles this year. Kayla was working the table at the bazaar where they sold them. I thought you’d like it to dress up those ugly suits you’re so fond of. And after we solve this, you’ll have it as a reminder of how you helped take down your first bad guy for Silver Valley.”
Tears flooded her eyes and no amount of blinking could stem a couple from streaking down her cheeks. She wiped them away and tried to smile at him.
“Thank you so much, Bryce. I’ll treasure it.”
“It’s not worth the tears, Zora. Save them for something really special.”
He’d started his reply on a humorous note but when he stopped talking they both grew quiet. They stared at each other, hands at the
ir sides, unblinking.
Was this going to be a special Christmas for them?
Chapter 18
“Want some hot cocoa?”
“I’d rather have a dram of Scotch, but not while we’re working this case. Hot chocolate sounds good.”
“I can add a shot of reinforcement to it if you change your mind.”
He grasped her hand before she could escape to the stove.
“We have something remarkable here, Zora.”
She stared at their hands. They felt as if they’d held hands their entire lives.
“How can we be so sure? Sometimes it feels like the past never ended. That I’ll never be free to live a normal life.”
“Your time at the compound is over, Zora. You’re free now. And you’re going above and beyond to keep our town safe from the same kind of people—not to mention a serial killer.”
Their eyes met.
“You’re doing it, too. You do it every day. I’m just a part-time Trail Hiker.” More tears rolled down her cheeks and she went to swipe at them but he held her other hand, too, and drew her close.
This close, with her bare feet against his wool socks, the warmth they shared wasn’t from the radiantly heated floor. Big flashy snowflakes fell outside, illuminated in the motion detector light she’d repaired over the kitchen window after she’d been shot. A portent of the nor’easter to come.
Here she felt safe, at home. It was the most at home she’d felt since she’d moved into the farmhouse over two years ago.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t make love to you until we caught the bad guys and all was well in Silver Valley again.” His breath caressed her face as his fingers—Bryce was shaking, too—traced her forehead and curled a lock of her hair around his finger, his expression childlike in wonder.
But his eyes sparked with purely adult emotion.
As adult as the erection she felt against her midriff.
“Bryce, did it occur to you that I might say no?”
Her attempt at teasing him fell flat. She knew, and knew that he knew, she’d never deny the chemistry they shared. Not when they’d built up a newfound trust with each other.
He continued to trace her features, and when his fingers landed on her lips, he smiled.
“Maybe for a split second. Are you, Zora? Are you going to say no?”
She didn’t answer and he replaced his fingers with his lips on hers, giving them what they both wanted.
What she needed.
* * *
Bryce had been kidding himself up until the moment he knocked on Zora’s door. He’d thought he was going to come in, present her with the broach to show her he believed she’d have a happy family of her own some day and leave.
Once he’d seen her, rosy and relaxed from her yoga, all bets were off.
Her skin warmed under his tongue as he licked her neck, the hollow at the base of her throat. His breath came in gasps but he was so turned on it didn’t scare him that he had no control over his reaction to her.
“Come here.” She pressed her pelvis into his at the same moment he pulled her to him, and he cursed the weight of his denim jeans between them. Her yoga pants left nothing to his imagination as he let the fullness of her ass fill his hands, his fingers wandering around to her front, closer to her center.
She cried out when he touched her at her most intimate spot.
“It’s been a while for me, Bryce.”
“Good.” He didn’t want to compete with any more memories. If he had his way, Zora would forget about the pain of her past and the worries of their next few days.
Everything would be okay, at least for right now.
He sought her mouth with a hunger he knew at some level he’d never fully satisfy. This was more than a roll in the sack to ease the tension of their hours of working together. More than a casual hookup for old times’ sake. More than a step toward the possibility of a future relationship.
He and Zora shared the kind of bond that would never be broken, regardless of what either of them chose to do about it.
Her lips met his with the same hunger and need. When he reached under her sweat top and pulled aside her athletic bra, it felt as if this was the first time he’d touched a woman’s breast. Her skin was so soft... Zora resisted none of his caresses, only encouraged him by placing her hands over his and showing him what pleased her most.
He backed into her kitchen counter and reached around her thighs to lift her onto the hard surface. Her yoga had remarkable benefits as her flexibility and strength made it a natural movement. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and savored how his tongue felt against hers.
She reached between them and stroked him through his jeans. He pulled back from their kiss.
“Heck, Zora, you’re going to finish this before either of us gets what we want.”
Throaty and full, her laughter was warm in his ear.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” she whispered.
* * *
Zora walked first into her room and opted to leave the lights off. Not because she was afraid of Bryce seeing her naked, but because she didn’t want to see her undercover getup where she’d hung it on the outside of the master bedroom’s closet door. She didn’t want any reminders of their mission.
This was their time to be alone together as Zora and Bryce. Not as a fake minister or the detective assigned to protect her.
Before she got to the bed, Bryce’s arms were around her waist, pressing her against his chest, his hips. She leaned her head to the side so she could reach his lips and kiss him. The need to show him how much she wanted this blocked out any concerns about how they’d deal with having taken their relationship to this level before they caught the Female Preacher Killer.
Danger would always be part of their lives as long as they were both in the Trail Hikers, as long as Bryce was SVPD. This moment, this chance to express what had occupied so much room in her heart since she returned to Silver Valley, was the chance of a lifetime.
Her lifetime—was it too risky to picture it with Bryce?
“Stop thinking.” He turned her around and drew up her yoga top, waiting for her to lift her arms over her head, which she did without hesitation. Freed of the shelf-style bra that was part of the top, her breasts were bare to his gaze, her nipples throbbing with the need for his touch.
He didn’t tease as his hands gently cupped her breasts while he strummed her nipples. When he pressed harder into her, Zora’s thinking stopped, and all she could do was hold on to his shoulders.
“Kiss me again, Bryce.”
He kissed her and lowered her yoga pants past her hips, taking her tiny lace panties with them.
“Let me.” She pushed his hands from the bottom of his sweater and repeated the same steps he’d taken with her. Their breathing grew more ragged as each article of clothing was removed. When she got to his button-fly jeans she struggled a bit with the stiffer denim material.
“Are these new jeans, or what?”
“Just for your pleasure.” He grunted. She could have laughed, too, but her arousal kept her focus on getting his pants off and getting Bryce inside her as quickly as possible.
They finally stood in front of each other completely naked.
Bryce caressed the side of her face and kissed her deeply as he held her hand. There was a tiny chasm between them but she felt the heat roiling off his skin. Heat for her.
He desired her as much as she craved him.
“I’ve wanted to be like this with you since I saw you in the patrol car in that awful getup.”
His enlarged pupils almost obliterated his gray-blue irises as sincerity flickered in their depths.
“I avoided running into you when I moved back on purpose. I was afraid this would happen.”
“And now?” He rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb.
“There’s no place I’d rather be.”
“I hate to ask this at the last minute, but do you have...”<
br />
“Protection? Yes.”
“If you didn’t, I brought some.”
“You were a Boy Scout. I wouldn’t expect any less.”
This time they laughed together. She allowed relief to wash away her fear that he’d change his mind. That he’d decide it wasn’t worth it, getting so close to her. The look he gave her was not that of a man who was going to reconsider his current situation.
“Stop.” He kissed her. “Thinking.” He kissed her again, this time allowing his hands to wander to her most private places, making the act of standing an athletic feat.
When her knees gave out, she pulled him with her onto the bed. She stretched to tug back the thick down comforter but Bryce stopped her. “Don’t. We don’t need it, not yet.”
With two more kisses Bryce was poised above her, running his fingers through her hair as he bore his weight on his forearms.
She looked up into his eyes and he smiled.
He entered her in one quick stroke that nearly sent her to her climax. She brought his mouth to hers and they set a rhythm pleasing to both.
Like the team they’d become, they didn’t need words as they let touch and feel be their guide to each other’s pleasure. By the time they both cried out in complete surrender, Zora knew that she’d never be satisfied with just one time with Bryce.
Before they separated enough to be able to spoon under her down comforter, she knew she wanted more.
* * *
Much later the wind still hadn’t subsided and the farmhouse’s eaves shuddered with each gust. Bryce didn’t know the last time he’d felt more relaxed.
It wasn’t just the exceptional sex, although an argument could be made for that. No, it was the woman who was curled into his arms, her skin soft and supple wherever it touched his. He’d never tire of the feel of her.
He could live a hundred years and he’d never forget how good it felt to be with Zora.
“What are you thinking?” Her voice, soft after their lovemaking, drifted across his forearm.
“Not thinking. Just feeling.”
She stretched and turned to face him. “We need to get our game back on.”
“Oh, I’d say that’s already in the works.”
“Not that. You know what I mean. The case.”