Christmas Angel

by Amanda McIntyre

  “I have dinner ready. Just a few more minutes on the biscuits.”

  “Biscuits?” His voice was muffled as he tugged his sweatshirt over his head.

  “Sounds good.”

  He walked past her, still working on the sweatshirt, the gesture causing his T-shirt beneath to ride high on his back, revealing the ripple of muscles and the way his dungarees hung low on his lean hips. She drew in a shaky breath and spontaneously reached for the doorframe to steady her watery knees. Unable to tear her gaze away, she watched as he flipped the light on in his bedroom and tossed his shirt to the corner out of habit. He braced his hands on the dresser and toed off his boots, then reached for his pants zipper and paused. He turned his head and caught her staring. For a moment, they looked at each other and she couldn’t help but see the hunger in his eyes. Her heart thudded slowly, and she fought the desire holding her firmly in place. He brought you here to protect you.

  Don’t make more of it than that.

  “Unfortunately, I’m afraid I don’t have time to eat,” he called out to her, apparently deciding to wear the same pants. He rummaged through the dresser, pulled out a black object, and snapped it into the end of his gun.

  She swallowed the lump of disappointment clogging her throat. “The man on the radio said a storm was coming. Are you sure you should be out on a night like this?”

  He walked down the hall with his devil-may-care swagger, his eyes locked to

  hers. “I’m afraid with my job I can’t let a little weather deter me.” He stepped into the bathroom without shutting the door.

  Angel lowered her eyes and sauntered toward the bathroom, trying to find a way to convince him to stay—at least long enough to get something warm inside him. “I made chili,” she offered with a hopeful shrug. She heard the flush of the toilet and raised her eyes to his in the reflection of the mirror.

  “Sorry, forgot to shut the door. Bad habit. One of many, I’m afraid.” He eyed his beard in the mirror. “Keep it or shave it?” He turned to her.

  Angel blinked. “Keep it?”

  He glanced at his image, scrutinizing the decision a bit more. “Yeah, okay. I don’t have time to deal with it anyway.”

  Did he hear a word I said? The timer on the stove buzzed, but she had no will to move.

  He sighed as though resigned he had to address her presence. “Listen, it smells great, Angel, really.” He patted her shoulder in a brotherly gesture and stepped around her. “Save me some. I’ll eat it later.” He grabbed his coat and stocking hat. “Have you seen my gloves?” He searched under a folded afghan and, having no luck, tossed it on the back of the chair.

  Angel’s mouth formed in a tight line. “In the basket on the top of the desk.” She fought not to allow disappointment to creep into her voice.

  “Ah, here they are. Great, thanks.” He grabbed them and headed for the door.

  She folded her arms and met him there. “It might be a late night.”

  The buzzer on the stove brayed annoyingly. Angel took a steadying breath. “Well, I guess it will keep.” She turned toward the kitchen.

  “Angel.”

  The softness in his tone caressed her wounded feelings, but she wasn’t about to face him and reveal the tears welled in her eyes. She blinked. “Yes?’

  “Everything you’ve done—the clove oranges, the dinner, and…the rug—I really, really appreciate it.”

  Angel nodded. Frankly, she wanted him to leave. He’d been in such a damn hurry two seconds ago. It wasn’t as though she needed or even wanted his approval, or his appreciation. She was a guest in his house. He allowed her to sleep on the hide-a-bed in his living room.

  “I don’t want you to think—I can’t—I’m not that guy. Dammit, I’ve got to go,” he muttered quietly.

  She cleared her throat, swiped her hand across her cheeks, and squared her shoulders. “You don’t have to explain anything.” She glanced quickly over her shoulder. “I was just trying to earn my keep. You have no obligations.”

  A brittle stretch of silence punctuated by the annoying buzz of the oven followed. “You’ll be okay? Here, I mean?”

  “Of course. I’m not a child.” She picked at the bit of peeling paint on the doorframe, feeling like she had not one friend. Why was this happening to her?

  “You should check the biscuits,” he offered quietly.

  She ducked into the kitchen and snagged a dishtowel off the cabinet. With a grimace, she yanked the pan of steaming biscuits from the oven, and gingerly grabbing two, she plopped them in the towel.

  “Here.” She hurried back to where he stood waiting at the front door. “At least these will keep you warm on a night like tonight.”

  He accepted the blue gingham towel. “Thanks, I’ll see you later.”

  “I’ll be here.” She plastered a brave smile on her face. He was on odd man, handsome and rugged, completely masculine in every way, yet so distant in his emotions.

  He hesitated, gave her a quick nod, and bounded down the stairs. The deep thud of the old beveled glass door in the foyer resounded in his wake.

  ***

  Shado carefully placed the warm biscuits on the passenger seat as he started his car. He stared at the cloth, painfully aware of the not-so-subtle innuendo she’d given about the biscuits being the only thing to keep him warm tonight. The case was getting to him. She was getting to him. That couldn’t happen—on either count. Drawn to the aroma of the fresh, hot bread, he tried not to dwell on the fact they were no closer to finding Espinoza than before….

  He let out a heavy sigh. Before Angel.

  The thought of standing in frigid temperatures in a sea of evergreens another night wasn’t appealing. There’d been no movement by Espinoza or any of his men since the shooting. Like cockroaches, they’d scurried into their holes. Eventually one of them would surface, but the where and when concerned him. He made a mental note to call his sister-in-law and maybe suggest she take his nephew to her mother’s for the holidays. He could try getting them a flight out of Reno as soon as he had her okay on the idea. Espinoza wasn’t above doing whatever he had to in order to gain the upper hand. If Angel’s attacker was one of his men and had sent the warning at the hospital, then it was possible it wouldn’t take long for Espinoza to realize Shado had been at the Imperial that night. He’d know Shado was getting close, and he’d know his determination to bring him down had everything to do with Danny’s death.

  He chewed the corner of his lip, noting snow had begun to fall in large, wispy flakes. Not only did he have his family’s safety hanging over his head, but now Angel’s as well. Frustrated, he cranked on the radio, searching for and finding a weather report.

  “The upper tiers of the state are under a winter storm warning while the southern half has been issued a winter storm watch. Chances of freezing rain and sleet are forecast for late tonight and into tomorrow.” A harsh crackle in the frequency prompted him to switch it off.

  His glanced up to the window of his apartment, a place he barely recognized anymore, and she’d only been there a few days. Already he was asking her where his belongings were. To make matters worse, he was starting to find comfort in her little touches. He couldn’t deny coming home after a long day to a sumptuous dinner and a prescribed “suds bath” to relieve his stress was nice. Nice, however, did not equate to long term. There was still the matter of this guy named Billy. Who was he? An ex-boyfriend, maybe? Had she run away from an abusive husband? Shado pressed the windshield wiper button, mesmerized by the methodical sweep of the blades pushing away the snow.

  Dammit. He’d allowed her in. At least far enough that he barely slept a wink anymore for thinking of her on his hide-a-bed down the hall. He hadn’t been looking for anyone, and in fact he’d determined finally he was content to be alone. Yet, somehow she’d managed to quietly sneak inside his mind, like a cool breeze over his lonely life. While he was out chasing the bad guys, she’d made his cold, lonely apartment a place to come home to.

  S
hado closed his eyes, willing the transient thought to disappear. “This is bad,” he muttered, checking the review mirror. His vision caught a movement in his apartment window, and he leaned over the steering wheel, craning his neck for a better look.

  She’d raised the sash, adjusting her body so she could hang out over the windowsill, her arms spread wide as though trying to catch snowflakes in her hands. She drove him crazy—one moment acting free and innocent as a child, the next looking at him with hunger in her eyes. He shifted uncomfortably at how quickly she captured his thoughts. Shado pushed open the car door and leaned over the top of the door. “Hey, get back inside. That’s too dangerous.” He had to chuckle at her sour expression as she gathered a handful of snow off the windowsill and tossed it at him.

  The light, fluffy flakes sprayed back in her face and she squealed with laughter.

  God, he was an idiot, standing there like some goddamn lovesick schoolboy. Yet he couldn’t leave until he knew she was safely inside. “Get back inside and lock the door.”

  “Afraid someone will steal me?” Yes. She’d voiced his greatest fear.

  She didn’t wait for an answer, but did as he asked, drew her body inside and struggled with the window until she got it shut. She offered him a smile and a wave, and he’d have given his eye teeth to march back up there and…yeah.

  No, wasn’t going to happen. Shado climbed back into the car. The sky, overcast in a deep dusky gray, showed promise of a long, cold, and continued snowfall. A great night to be outside. He slammed the car into drive.

  ***

  Shado sipped the same cup of coffee he’d had all night, the cold liquid bitter on his tongue. Earlier, he’d wolfed down the warm biscuits, savoring their homemade goodness. He glanced down at his belly, patting his abs. With Angel’s home cooking, he was going to have to step up his routine at the gym. He liked staying in shape, as much for his mental dexterity as his physical well-being.

  The wind had picked up, swirling the heavy snow through the near-empty streets. He squinted, barely able to see the front of the Imperial. He pretended to adjust his cap over his ears as he tapped into the earplug hidden beneath. “Doubt our pigeon is going to roost tonight. What do you think?” He waited for a response from the team situated in the unmarked van down the block.

  “Business too slow for you, Jackson?”

  Shado tossed the bland coffee to the ground and heaved the cup into a nearby trash barrel. “Who the hell would buy a tree in weather like this?” He stomped his boots attempting to regain some feeling in his toes. Angel had been wearing his wool socks around the house, and he didn’t have the heart to ask her for them.

  “Wait a minute. We’ve got a live one.” The microphone sputtered into silence.

  “Coming out of the Imperial. Heads up.”

  Shado squinted through the blinding snow, noting the silhouette of someone coming toward him. Given the distinctive walk, it was a woman, though until she got closer he couldn’t be sure. He laid his hand on the gun he had tucked inside his coveralls. He had a flashback of the night not long ago when Angel walked out of the cold, dark shadows and into his sorry life.

  “Hey, darlin’. Madam Lee thought you could use a cup of something hot. So, I brought you some coffee.” She was tall, leggy in high-heeled boots, with dark hair swirling in the wind-driven snow. She wore a mink coat, which fell below her knees, giving her the appearance of an exotic-looking bear—and a hungry one at that. Her wide brown eyes flashed a keen interest as she looked him over. “My name is Monique, and baby, you look awfully cold out here. Me and a few of the girls got nothing special planned tonight. Maybe you’d like to join us for a little holiday cheer?”

  The proposition caught him off guard. Shado heard a faint chuckle in his earpiece.

  “Uh, I was about to close. Maybe another time?” He accepted the coffee, however, and while he did not intend to drink it, he welcomed the warmth between his hands.

  “My friends and I have watched you out here, moving these big ol’ trees around. You must have some powerful strong arms to lift them all.” She smiled then, her perfect white teeth gleaming in the murky shadows. “I like me a man with strong arms.”

  Yeah, this had to end. He handed the coffee back. “My doctor says the caffeine is bad for me.”

  “Oh? Strong and healthy. Now that, honey, is a very attractive combination.” She grinned.

  Shado cleared his throat and glanced over the woman’s shoulder, wondering how many of her friends were watching. They’d made the deal in secret with Madam Lee to keep surveillance on the Imperial. To the best of his knowledge, no one else knew of her collaborative efforts, which meant Miss Exotic Eyes was trying her best to form her own collaboration. Then again, it might be an elaborate plan to keep him distracted.

  “Shado?”

  He turned toward a voice calling his name. There was Angel, walking toward him through a row of trees. He blinked in surprise. “Angel?” Her name popped out before he could stop it. How the hell? Did she walk here? It was well over nine blocks, and she would have had to ask someone for directions.

  “Uh, oh, looks like the party is about to get interesting.”

  He ignored the voice in his earpiece and turned to face her. “What the hell are you doing? I thought I told you to stay inside.” He waited for her response. Didn’t she understand the danger she was in or how she might jeopardize the operation?

  The well-endowed woman glanced over her shoulder, giving Angel a once over appraisal. “Is this your old lady?”

  “I beg your pardon. I am not old,” Angel’s response was defiant.

  She offered a wry smile. “Right, honey. None of us are.”

  “Uh….” Shado had to think on his feet. Carefully considering his predicament, he needed the trust of the Imperial’s call girl and he needed Angel to turn her pretty backside around and get back home. He blurted the first thing that came to mind. “She’s my sister.”

  “Sister?” both women replied in unison.

  “I was getting ready to close. How’s Ma’s cough?” Shado gave a convincing hack, sounding like he might produce his left lung.

  The stranger’s heavily made up eyes widened in horror. “Sweetie, you damn well ought to get your brother out of this weather. Listen to this poor baby’s cough. Oh, and honey,” she turned to Angel, “You got some fine features. If you need steady work, I could hook you up with Madam Lee. She runs an elite service.” She glanced at Shado. “If big brother don’t mind.”

  Angel smiled at her offer. “I guess some things haven’t changed,” she remarked and then turned her attention to him. “You promised Mama you’d be home if the weather turned bad.” Her brows rose into the stocking hat she wore clamped down over her head. Her golden hair hung in wet strands, curling on the shoulders of his oversized parka. It was at least two sizes too big. He hadn’t yet had the time to get her a replacement coat after the white fur was pronounced unresponsive at the cleaners. Then again, she didn’t really need one, since she wasn’t supposed to leave his apartment. He went along with the ruse, however, hoping to convince the Imperial employee. He’d have to straighten things out with Miss Sutter when they got back home.

  “Well, honey.” The woman reached forward and caressed Shado’s cheek. “You can play at my house anytime.” She glanced at Angel and tipped her head. “If

  Mama will let you.”

  Angel responded with a saccharin smile and a well-placed shove of the steel thermos into his gut. “Mama thought you might like some soup.”

  The woman chuckled, hugging her coat around her and headed back across the street. With a look that would freeze ice, Angel flipped up the hood of his parka, turned on her heel, and left with her head down and her gait determined.

  “Time to close things down for the night.” Shado spoke to the team in the van. He fumbled with the awkward padlock, vowing to burn down the rusty old shanty as soon as this assignment was over. Searching the direction Angel had gone, he stuffed the k
eys in his pocket and grabbed his coffee. In his hurry, he slipped on a patch of ice and crashed to the ground. “You want us to get her?” The voice came through his earpiece.

  He scrambled to his feet and snatched up the thermos. The insides rattled with the sound of broken glass. “She’s headed right toward where I parked my car. I got this.”

  “If you say so, man. I’ll call you later. And hey, you don’t want to drink that soup now. It’s probably got glass in it.”

  Shado offered the finger to Gleason waiting in the van as he jogged past. He heard his familiar low-timbered laugh.

  “I’ve seen that walk, Jackson. The woman is pissed. Watch your step.”

  He picked up his pace. There was no doubt as to the double meaning in his partner’s warning.

  ***

  Angel huddled inside the jacket she’d found in Shado’s closet. Though he hadn’t said specifically where he was going, she had a feeling she’d find him in the tree lot. Miss Brisbee had helped her with directions to the Imperial, all the while offering the same advice Angel had given Shado about being out on a night like this. When the elderly woman suggested she get a cab, even offering to pay for it, Angel explained she preferred to walk. After being cooped up for many days with nothing but Old West reruns and looking at criminals’ pictures, she was ready for a stout walk. She found him with little trouble, wondering why he had to work the job at the Christmas tree lot in addition to his detective work. However, her sympathy for his plight waned when she came upon him flirting with a strikingly beautiful woman clothed in sleek black boots and a fine-looking coat made of dark brown fur. Any man would be drawn to such a beautiful creature. He’d be blind not to be, but what surprised her more was her jealous reaction at seeing the two of them together.