“Colt, honey, I hope the next dance is mine.” A woman about Sadie’s height, but dressed to the nines, was leaning into Colt, grasping his biceps possessively. She had a sleek mahogany ponytail and big brown eyes. Her face had the slightly indistinct look of someone who had drunk one too many.
“Hi, Connie,” he said. “I’m with—”
“Connie Wilkerson?” Sadie asked.
The brunette turned to Sadie and tilted her head, her ponytail cascading over her shoulder.
“I’m Sadie Wilson. You might not remember me, but you, Allison, and I played together as children one summer.”
Connie’s eyes remained unfocused. “Allison . . .”
“Allison Stuart.” At Connie’s continued blank look, she added, “She owns The Pantry.”
“Oh. Right. Allison.” The brunette wrapped an arm around Colt’s waist. “And you are?”
Connie’s hand tucked snugly into Colt’s waistband, looking for all the world as if that’s where it belonged. Sadie gave Colt’s friend an empty smile. It matched the hollowness in her chest. “It really doesn’t matter. Enjoy your dance.” Colt called after her, but she ignored him and made her way back to the bar.
Allison was waiting for her. “Wow. You and Colt must have buried the hatchet. That was some slow dance.”
She eyed her full glass and wondered if she should order another, but Pineville didn’t seem like the kind of place where she had to worry about getting a roofie dropped in her drink. She tossed back a swallow. “It was just a dance. Colt was apologizing for being a jerk. Oh, and he bought our drinks.”
Allison nudged her in the side. “See, you did it right. Free drinks.”
“Yeah, I only had to crash my car, destroy property, get arrested and sentenced to community service with a jackass in order to get them. Totally worth it.” Sadie snorted.
“If you get Colt, that would be worth it. A lot of women around here would pay for a smoking-hot night with him.” Allison watched Colt and Connie on the dance floor and Sadie turned to join her. They made a very handsome couple. She knocked back the rest of her drink.
“What’s with him and Connie? Are they a couple?” Sadie asked.
“I didn’t think so. But there’s not much availability in a small town. Choices are limited.” Allison ran a hand through her platinum hair and leaned back against the bar.
“Didn’t you mention that Connie used to date Caleb? Was that Colt’s brother?”
“Yeah, they were inseparable for a while. Even through a couple years of college.” Allison turned back to the bar.
Sadie leaned closer to her, keeping their conversation private. “How did Caleb die?”
“In Afghanistan. He was an army ranger.”
“Oh.” Sadie glanced back at Colt as he led Connie off the dance floor into a secluded corner of the bar. “I’m impressed and sad all at the same time.”
“That about sums it up.” Allison saluted her with her glass, then slammed the rest of it down. “You want to go dance?”
Sadie peered into the corner, but Colt and Connie had disappeared. “No. I’m sorry, but I’d really like to get out of here. Can you drive me home?”
Allison slid off the stool, pushing her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. “Let’s stop by the diner first for a cup of coffee. I think I’m okay to drive, but . . .”
“A cup of coffee sounds good.” The bitter night air slapped at Sadie’s face when they exited the bar. They turned on the slick sidewalk to trudge the three blocks to the coffee shop. When they reached the corner, Sadie paused and put her hand on Allison’s arm. Peering down the dimly lit side street, she tried to decipher what she was seeing.
“Allison, is that . . . a reindeer walking around the corner down there?”
Allison chuckled but looked in the direction Sadie pointed. Her spine snapped straight, her gaze focused on the scene. “Holy Hades. That’s one of old Mr. Jones’s plastic reindeer. He has them in front of his clock shop.”
“And it’s suddenly come to life?” Sadie couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice.
Allison grabbed Sadie’s hand and trotted toward the disappearing reindeer. “How much did you have to drink? Someone’s stealing it.”
“The Christmas thief!” Sadie slowed to a walk.
Allison tugged harder at her hand. “Yeah. Let’s get him.”
“How much have you had to drink? We shouldn’t chase after a thief. It could be dangerous.”
“He’s stealing reindeer and tinsel. How dangerous can he be? Come on.” Allison urged Sadie to a run again.
Allison was right. They could take the thief down and save Christmas. Knowing it was the whisky talking didn’t stop a thrill from coursing through Sadie’s veins. She and Allison were like Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy in The Heat, only better dressed. They turned the corner the reindeer had disappeared around, and skidded to a stop.
“Where’d it go?” Allison put a hand to her stomach and panted.
“Maybe Rudolph flew away?”
Allison gave her a dirty look, then pointed at the ground about twenty feet ahead of them. “Look. It’s his scarf.”
Sadie peered into the night, squinted. A four-foot length of tinsel was disappearing into an alley.
“We’ve got ’im!” Allison crowed. She ran ahead, Sadie sprinting to catch up. The sound of an engine turning over broke the quiet. “Hurry!” she yelled.
Sadie was a step behind Allison when they turned into the alley. Her boot hit a patch of ice and she hit the wall of a building, bruising her shoulder. Allison’s silhouette sped away, chasing the dull red glow of a pair of taillights. Regaining her footing, Sadie shot after her, praying that Allison wouldn’t do something crazy, like jump on the back of the car.
She almost ran into her friend when she turned onto Main Street, their chase having brought them nearly full circle. Allison was bent at the waist, her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. The thief sped off, turned out of sight a couple of blocks up, the length of green tinsel snaking out the rear door and flapping in the wind behind the car.
The muted music from Pins ’N’ Pints behind them along with Allison’s and her heavy breathing were the still night’s only sounds. “Well,” Sadie finally said, “that didn’t go as I’d hoped. Did you get the license plate number?”
Allison stood up straight and shook her head. “Too dark. But it was a Honda Pilot, I think. Dark blue. Let’s go to the coffee shop and call the police.”
Sadie fell into step beside her. “It looked more like a minivan to me. And it was brown, not blue.”
“No, it was blue.” Allison ran her fingers through her disheveled hair, then twisted the platinum locks into a knot at the nape of her neck. “I was closer to it, so I could see better. Maybe if you ran a little faster . . .” Allison smirked at her.
“I slipped on ice!” Sadie pulled her coat tighter around her. “But I was close enough to tell brown from blue. Besides,” she said archly, “I do have a degree in design. I know colors.”
Allison snorted and stopped in front of The Pantry’s front door. She pulled a key ring out of her pocket and unlocked the door before pushing it open. “The cops are going to love this description.” She flipped the lights on and walked in, stripping her outerwear off as she went.
Sadie followed her to the counter and plopped down on a seat. “So we’re not the best eyewitnesses. But we’ve come closer to catching the Christmas thief than they have.”
“Because of dumb luck that we were walking down the street at the right time.” Allison walked behind the counter. “The coffee pots have all been cleaned, but I have soda or water.”
“Water please.”
Allison poured them each a glass before coming back around. Sinking down next to Sadie, she pulled off one of her cowboy boots, and rubbed her foot. “I think I’m sobering up. I think that was really stupid what we just did.” She pulled out her cell phone and started punching in numbers.
Befor
e she could hit connect, Sadie stilled her hand. “No, I think you were right. The Christmas thief isn’t liable to be dangerous. But he is stealing Christmas from Pineville.” Sadie’s voice rose in excitement. “I’m here for another five days. I say let’s do it.”
“Do what?” Allison was staring at her like she had grown a second head.
“You and I are going to catch the Christmas thief.”
Chapter Seven
Like a dowsing rod to water, Colt’s body swung toward Sadie as she pulled up to the town square in the loaner vehicle the garage had left in her driveway. Jerome chuckled, and Colt couldn’t stop his own smile from splitting his cheeks. He’d forgotten that the owner of the repair shop got a kick out of decorating the cars he loaned out to customers. The white Toyota Corolla Sadie drove was sporting antlers at each side window and a big red nose on the grill. No one looked more out of place stepping out of the tacky car than his princess.
She appeared a little paler than usual in the early morning light, but she strode up to him and Jerome with a firm step and all the dignity a woman driving a Rudolph car could maintain.
“Morning, gentlemen.” She sipped a cup of coffee, smiled at Jerome. Holding up a large plastic bag, she said, “I bought some ribbon on the way over so we can start on bows today.”
Colt grasped her hand, easing the bag from her grip. “I’ll take it. Are you okay? You look a bit tired today.”
“I am tired. I danced and drank a lot after you left with Connie. Had a great time.” She lifted her chin and glared at him, her eyes as cold as icicles.
His brow furrowed. Sadie had left shortly after he and Connie had. He had asked his friends. “Look, about last night . . .”
Jerome interrupted him. “Filing a report with the police kept you up even later last night. Especially since Officer Smith was on duty.” He smiled. “He really likes to dot his i’s and cross his t’s.”
“Yes, his attention to detail was quite . . . admirable.” Sadie took a step toward the tree, but Colt grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Hold up. Why did you file a police report? What happened?” He looked at Sadie, then Jerome, his body temperature rising as he waited. Why was no one answering? Had something bad happened to Sadie? He swallowed the lump in his throat. “What happened?” he repeated, his voice gruff. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Allison and I saw someone stealing a plastic reindeer and called it in. That’s all.”
The tension seeped out of Colt’s body until Jerome added, “That’s not all I read. The report says you and Allison gave chase to the Christmas thief, almost catching him in the alley off Main. We have two of our very own vigilantes here in Pineville.” The cop smirked and lightly punched Sadie’s shoulder.
“You did what?” Colt’s voice was so low Sadie glanced up at him, startled, eyes wide. He wanted to shake her, but figured that was something a law enforcement officer wouldn’t appreciate. “That was reckless and idiotic. What the hell were you thinking?”
Jerome placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ease off, man. This is Pineville. I’m sure she and Allison were in no real danger. They were being very civic-minded, is all.”
Colt stretched a smile across his face, but it felt more like a grimace. He released his grip on Sadie’s shoulder. “It was still stupid.”
“Yes, well, my stupidity really isn’t a concern of yours, now is it?” Snatching the ribbon bag from his hand, she stalked toward the tree, tension vibrating through her body with each step. A weight settled over his chest at the thought of Sadie getting hurt, but he took a deep breath and pushed it away. She was a temporary presence in his life, not someone to get attached to, and definitely not his responsibility. He needed to step back. Perhaps it was for the best that she thought he had spent the night with Connie.
Jerome slapped him on the back. “Stop being such a hard-ass with that woman. Yeah, she made a mistake when she hit that light pole, but she’s a nice person. If you’d take your head out of your butt, you’d see that.”
Colt blew out a deep breath. “I hear you. I’d better get to work.” He nodded at Jerome and walked over to where Sadie sat on a bench. She was unspooling ribbon with quick, jerky movements, and even when his shadow fell over her, she refused to acknowledge his presence.
Easing down next to her, he picked up a length of cut ribbon, the red fabric stiff and scratchy. “If you show me how you want these tied, I’ll get started.”
“Fine.” She made a sample bow, then wrapped some wire around its middle. “This attaches it to the tree. Got it?”
He fumbled with his ribbon but eventually got it into a reasonable approximation of her sample bow. He held it up for her inspection.
Her gaze flickered to it, then back to the stack of ribbon she had cut. “Fine.”
Colt rolled his head in a circle. He was getting tired of the word ‘fine,’ but had no right to press her. She seemed eager to put distance between them, an idea he had wholeheartedly supported just minutes ago. But when Sadie withdrew, it pissed him off. Knowing his reaction was completely unreasonable only pissed him off more.
He finished another bow and tossed it onto the pile at his feet. Her ability to crawl under his skin was another reason it was good she was leaving at the end of the week. There was no way Colt could want a relationship with a woman who irritated the hell out of him one moment and turned him on the next just by sitting next to him on a park bench.
She tugged at the wire edges of the ribbon, making her bow look plump and full. She must really be mad at him if she wasn’t correcting his flatter, more two-dimensional attempts.
He picked up another ribbon. No, sir. He definitely didn’t want a woman who thought she knew everything about decorating a tree. A tree, for God’s sake. Someone who was a perfectionist, who had to point out every little mistake he made. She wrapped wire around her bow with quick, efficient movements. Someone with long, slender fingers, fingers he’d imagined doing all sorts of dirty things to his body. With skin so soft he had to fight back the urge to stroke it when he was close to her. With eyes that seemed to see every detail, but still crinkled warmly, as if she liked what she saw, which should have been impossible when the world around them was such a mess. And that bottom lip. He just wanted to suck it into his mouth, nibble the plump flesh, hear her moan . . .
Colt shifted on the bench. Nope. Definitely didn’t want a woman like that, no matter what his body might be saying. He was just tired. It had been a late night for him, as well. Putting a drunk Connie to bed was turning into a full-time job.
“Well, color me impressed,” a snarky voice drawled from behind. David Carelli walked up to them, nudged Colt’s pile of bows with the toe of his oxford. “I never knew we had a real live Martha Stewart living here in town, McCoy. When your contracting business goes under, you have a career ahead of you making bows and doilies.”
Colt slowly drew himself to his feet. His muscular frame topped Carelli’s by a solid two inches, and Colt intended to put that little bit of height advantage to good use. He stepped over the pile of bows and into Carelli’s space. “David. Taking a break from stealing contracts?”
Carelli snorted. “Don’t be a sore loser. I won those bids fair and square.”
Sadie came and stood by Colt’s side. His side, not David’s. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding, her sweet scent teasing his nose. Her presence calmed him better than a shot of bourbon. He still wanted to punch the jerk, but maybe just in the jaw instead of breaking his nose.
Colt flexed his hands. “I talked to the MacKenzies. They were nice enough to inform me that you gave them two bids. The first was substantially higher than mine and then at the last minute you resubmitted one right below mine.”
“I recalculated my numbers,” Carelli said coldly. “It was my right.” Turning to Sadie, he gave her his car-salesman smile. “And speaking of numbers, I have my offer for your grandmother’s house ready.” He pulled a white envelope from his inside breast pocket and
held it up in front of her face. When she reached for it, Carelli raised it higher and grabbed her hand with his free one, laughing. Colt clenched his into fists to keep from tearing the prick off her. “How about I show it to you at dinner tomorrow night so we can discuss it? I know you aren’t working on Sunday.”
Sadie tugged her hand from his grip. Glancing briefly at Colt, she said, “That sounds nice. When and where should I meet you?”
Colt crossed his arms over his chest and glared at David. Carelli smirked back.
“I’ll pick you up.” David slid the envelope back into his cashmere coat. “Six o’clock.” Tossing a wave over his shoulder, he left Colt and Sadie standing in an uncomfortable silence.
“Well, back to work, I guess.” She bent over to pick up a handful of bows, the view she gave Colt sending fire racing through his veins. Yes. Irritation and lust were a deadly combination. He averted his eyes and picked up some bows, as well.
He dutifully followed her to the tree—like a puppy dog, he thought in disgust. She flipped her hair back over her shoulder, the corn-silk strands shimmering in the sunlight. He shook his head. He would follow her a lot farther if he wasn’t careful.
He worked through the morning, winding the wire onto the tree’s boughs and fluffing each bow as Sadie directed. He tried to contain his eye rolls whenever she pointed out a bow that was too flat, and adjusted it in silence. Constantly scraped by the wire and the abrasive ribbon, his red fingers hurt more than they should from decorating a damn tree. Sadie hung another bow, unconcerned with her hands. One thing he had to give his princess, she wasn’t a whiner.
“It’s lunchtime.” He walked over and took the bows from her hands. “Let’s go to the café and get some food.” Without giving her a chance to object, Colt placed his hand on her lower back and guided her across the square.
They stepped into the crowded restaurant and the smell of fried food and pumpkin pie made his stomach rumble. He searched for an empty table, nodding to a few of his friends.
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