Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set

by Addison Fox, Cindy Dees, Justine Davis

  Gasping, she dropped back to flat-footed on the floor, burying her face against his shirt. He smelled of man and something tangy and citrus and delicious. Even the scent of him sent waves of need rolling through her.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured against her temple.

  “Right. Yes.” Her mind skipped like a needle jumping to another track on an old vinyl album. “But, umm, casual. Boss. We have to be seen by Roger.”

  “Screw casual.”

  “I won’t wreck your career.” Ta-da. She was capable of forming a complete sentence!

  “Screw that, too. Let’s go.” He surprised her by pushing her backward toward the wall behind her. She stumbled, shocked as it gave way and a blast of cold slammed into her shoulder blades.

  A door. Rear exit, apparently.

  Reese spun her outside and the door closed behind them.

  “My coat—”

  “I’ll text your sister to pick it up,” he muttered against her neck.

  She threw her head back, loving the feel of his mouth on her bare skin. “Oh, that’ll go over great with her.” She stopped speaking while a head-to-toe shiver made her momentarily incapable of speech, then continued breathlessly, “No way will you be able to convince her there’s nothing going on between us if we flee the scene of the crime without even grabbing our coats.”

  “I don’t care what she thinks,” he murmured as he caught her earlobe between his teeth and bit down gently.

  “You say that now. Have you ever seen my sister get a bone between her teeth and refuse to let go?”

  He laughed a little, a sexy rumble in his chest that she felt through her whole body. “Yeah, actually. I have.” He straightened, throwing his arm over her shoulder and tucking her tightly against his side. “C’mon. It’s freezing out here.”

  He hurried her over to his truck and piled her inside. From behind the bench seat, he pulled out a thick wool blanket that he threw over her and tucked in around her.

  Moving around to the driver’s side, he climbed in, started the engine and pointed at a rotating dial. “Give the truck three minutes and then crank that all the way to the right. It’ll start throwing heat out at you.”

  He opened his door again.

  “Where are you going?” she blurted.

  “Inside to get our coats.”

  “Mine’s cream wool with a belt—”

  He interrupted gently. “I know. I work with you. I’ve seen you come and go from the office every day for the past year. I’m familiar with your various coats.”

  “You know my coats?” she asked incredulously.

  “My favorite is the light blue ski jacket,” he commented casually as he climbed out. She stared, openmouthed as he shut the door and jogged off into the darkness. He paid attention to her coats? What did it mean? Was he merely observant, or did his attention to detail related to her mean…more?

  No answers had come to her by the time Reese blew back into the truck cab on a gust of frigid air.

  “Man. It’s getting cold out there,” Reese commented, pushing her coat across the now warm cab at her. “Feels like another storm may be blowing in.”

  “I should drive my car home,” she said, reaching for the door handle.

  “I’ll drive you. Roads will already be getting icy.”

  “I have to get my car home, sometime,” she replied dryly.

  “It won’t hurt anything spending the night here. I imagine a bunch of vehicles will end up being here overnight. Lots of cops inside are drinking and will know better than to drive afterward. Local rideshare guys are gonna get some good business out of Lou’s party.”

  “You had a beer when I first saw you. Should you be driving?” she asked.

  He ducked his chin a little. “I always buy one beer and dump half of it down a toilet. Then I carry it around the rest of the night.”

  “You don’t drink?” she asked in surprise.

  “Not often. And certainly not when I have to drive home. How about you? What was that in your glass?”

  “Selzter water and a lemon,” she confessed.

  He laughed a little. “Who knew we were such a couple of stick-in-the-muds?”

  “Speak for yourself, Detective,” she replied tartly.

  He grinned broadly at her. “I’ll keep the secret if you will.”

  “Deal,” she replied, smiling back.

  Honestly, she was relieved not to chance the bad roads in her lightweight car without four-wheel drive or chains for her tires. Her father and brothers had been trying to talk her into trading her fuel-efficient little car in for something bigger and heavier, suited to the bad weather that was known to blow in at this time of year. But to date, she’d resisted. She’d forgotten how bad these sudden blizzards could be out here on the Great Plains.

  Ruefully, she said, “I’m trying to repair my reputation in the department. Leaving my car here in a blatant advertisement that I’ve gone home with someone else isn’t going to help matters one bit. As much as I appreciate your offer to drive me home, I need to get my car out of here.”

  He sighed. “Fine. I’ll follow you to your place. If the roads are too bad for you or you get in trouble, I’ll be there to help. And, be careful. There are black ice patches on the roads.”

  Black ice was the bane of Kansas roads at this time of year. The sun warmed snow and ice during the day into wet puddles. Then, at night, when temperatures fell below freezing, the puddles froze into sheets of clear ice that allowed the black pavement to be seen below. Hence, the name. The stuff was glass smooth and treacherous to drive on. Braking on a sheet of it was impossible. A car might as well be on an ice-skating rink.

  “Will do.” Reluctantly, she shrugged into her coat, climbed out of the truck and tromped through drifts of snow already a foot deep to her car. Reese helped her brush the snow off her windshield and windows while the interior of the car warmed up.

  When she was ready to go, she flashed Reese a thumbs-up and he trudged back to his truck and climbed in. With him following a safe distance behind, she did, indeed, drive home exceptionally cautiously and arrived without incident in her driveway. She trotted out of her garage to Reese’s truck, and he rolled down the window as she approached.

  “Would you like to come inside? It’s not late. Have you eaten? I can cook for us,” she offered.

  “Do you know how to cook?”

  She snorted. “You don’t have to sound so surprised. I’ve made it into my midtwenties, which means I’ve been eating for years all by my little self.”

  He rolled his eyes and turned off the ignition. “Yes, but is it edible?”

  “Come in and find out. I dare you.”

  “You really have to stop daring me to do things. One day, you’ll get in over your head.”

  “Never,” she replied stoutly, opening the door from the garage into the house and kicking out of her boots in the mudroom.

  “Big words, little girl,” he teased as he followed her into her cozy kitchen.

  “Who are you calling little?” she demanded as she turned on the lights and started pulling out food.

  Grinning, he backed her up against the wall beside her refrigerator and kissed her long and leisurely. Goodness. She could not get enough of kissing that man. Belatedly, she realized her hands were full of lettuce, carrots, tomatoes and celery. He stepped back, and she plunked the food onto the counter, then pulled out a cutting board and knife.

  “Can I help?” he offered.

  “Sit.” She pointed the big knife at the kitchen table.

  Grinning, he threw up his hands and sat. “Truce. It’s still in effect, right?”

  “As long as you don’t make fun of my cooking, it is.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned cheekily at her.

  Those bedroom eyes of his were at it again, sp
arkling sexily and making her think about things she’d like to do with him on the kitchen table that had nothing to do with food. Dang, that man was lethal.

  She forced her attention to the task at hand. Supper. She had a couple of nice steaks in her fridge, and she put a cast-iron skillet on the stove to heat up. When it was sizzling hot, she dropped in butter and seared the steaks quickly on both sides to seal in the juices. Then, she put the whole pan in the oven to finish off the sirloins. While they cooked, she boiled eggs, chopped romaine lettuce, ham, carrots, celery, onions and bacon, and put together a decent Cobb salad if she did say so, herself.

  She put Reese to work snapping green beans and steamed those with garlic and butter after he was done. Just as she set the salad on the table the oven timer went off. She peeked at the beans, which were bright green, aromatic and tender. Yes. She whisked the steaks out of the oven to rest, plated them and the beans, and set the meal on the table with a flourish.

  It was pure luck on her part that everything came together at once, but she was totally willing to take credit for it with Reese.

  She sat down beside him and smiled. “Bon appétit.”

  “I have to admit, I’m impressed.”

  “You haven’t tasted it yet.”

  He cut into his steak, and juice mingled with the butter. It was medium rare, succulent and tender. Again, sheer luck. But what Reese Carpenter didn’t know about her hit-or-miss cooking skills wouldn’t hurt him.

  He groaned with pleasure. “Oh. That’s a fine piece of meat.”

  His gaze snapped up to hers, startled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  She stabbed a piece of her steak daintily with her fork and waved it at him airily. “Never fear. I take no offense at the double entendre. I’m nobody’s piece of meat.”

  “No kidding,” he replied heartily.

  “Meaning what?” she demanded. “Don’t you think I’m attractive enough to be seen as meat?”

  He put down his utensils and threw up his hands. “You are totally meat-worthy. But I in no way think of you like that—”

  She burst into laughter. “I’m just messing with you.”

  He scowled momentarily but then dissolved into a grin. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Duly noted. Just remember, payback’s a bitch.”

  “Bring it, buddy.”

  Clearly, he planned to delay his retaliatory teasing for he fell to his meal with enthusiasm and little talk ensued.

  Near the end of supper, she finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been bugging her ever since Reese forgave her in his truck. “How bad was the razzing after I left the squad room today?”

  He looked up from his last bite of steak and grinned. “Actually, it went dead silent. Everyone was so shocked they didn’t know what to say. First time I’ve ever seen that bunch speechless.”

  She winced. “I’m so sorry.”

  He leaned back with a sigh of pleasure. “That was a helluva good steak. Thank you.”

  “I don’t have anything snazzy to offer you for dessert. I do have ice cream and some fresh strawberries I can slice over it.”

  “I’m stuffed. Nothing for me, thanks,” he replied.

  She leaned back, as well. “How did Jordana find out about our, umm, squad-room kiss so fast? She called me about thirty seconds after I got back to the lab.”

  “I expect somebody texted her.” A frown crossed his brow. “Was she mad?”

  “At me? Oh, yeah. She said it reflects on her and that she considers us both to be her siblings…which makes it weird, apparently.”

  “Hmm. Gonna have to have a chat with her about you, I guess.”

  He didn’t sound thrilled at the prospect.

  The elation she’d been feeling at his forgiveness evaporated. “I’m sorry—”

  “Stop apologizing already,” he interrupted. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Well, I did lay a big wet one on you in the middle of our mutual workplace.”

  “Which I willingly—correction, eagerly—participated in. That kiss took two people, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  She answered sarcastically, “I had noticed, thank you.”

  He snorted with laughter. “I do love a woman with a dry sense of humor.”

  “That’s me. The Sahara Desert.”

  She started to get up to do the dishes, but Reese reached out, grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down into her chair. “Oh no, you don’t. You cooked. I’ll do the dishes.”

  “If that’s how you roll, I’ll cook dinner for you every night.”

  This time it was her gaze that snapped to his, startled and chagrined.

  Darn her mouth! When was she going to learn to think about what she said before the words just popped out?

  “It’s my pleasure to clean up,” he responded blandly enough. But she caught the look of—something—in his eyes as he turned away. She couldn’t tell if that was speculation or cold, hard terror in his eyes at her crack about doing this every night. Behind his back, she squeezed her eyes shut in chagrin. She was a total mess around him.

  Sleeves rolled up and sponge in hand, which was possibly the sexiest look she’d ever seen on him, he said over his shoulder, “I forgot to ask if you’ve gotten into that puzzle box yet.”

  “No, but I’m close. I think there’s only one layer of the puzzle left. Sucker has four layers to solve.”

  Reese murmured, “Which begs the question, what does that key open that’s so important?”

  “Dexter—assuming it was Dexter and not his wife—went to a whole lot of trouble to hide the key, that’s for sure.”

  Reese replied, “Using the X-ray image of the key that you emailed me, I did a little preliminary research on it. My guess is that it’s some sort of a safe-deposit box or locker key.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I showed the image of the key to the guys at all the local banks in Braxville, and they said it’s not one of theirs.”

  “A bank in Wichita, maybe?” she suggested. “Or possibly Kansas City?”

  He nodded and picked up a dish towel to start drying. “I had time to check with a few Wichita banks, today. I’ll email the image to the rest of the Wichita banks tomorrow.”

  “If you don’t get a hit, let me know. The FBI maintains an exhaustive key database that I have access to as a forensics investigator.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her and nodded. “Thanks. Will do.” He put the last plate onto the dry towel he’d spread out beside the sink. She had a perfectly functional dishwasher, but she’d enjoyed sitting here watching the hot, macho man washing dishes. There was something unbelievably attractive about a man doing a domestic chore with ease and comfort.

  She stood up and went over to the sink to wrap her arms around his hard, lean waist from behind. “Thanks for doing the dishes. And thanks again for forgiving me about the whole kiss thing.”

  He turned in her arms and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Resting his chin on top of her head, he said quietly, “I’m not the giant ass you seem to think I am.”

  “I don’t think you’re a giant ass. Maybe just a little one. Sometimes.”

  His chest rumbled with silent laughter. “I love how you call me out. Keep me honest.”

  “I thought you were the one who always calls me out. You pick on how I do my job and how I run my lab all the time.”

  “I don’t pick on you,” he disagreed. “And I don’t tell you what to do. I make helpful suggestions.”

  She laughed aloud at that. “Right. Forcefully.”

  “I’m sorry if I’ve been a jerk. I just really wanted to see you succeed.”

  Startled, she leaned back in his arms to look up at him. “Come again?”

  “There was a lot of skepticism in the department about hi
ring a woman, and so young a woman, for your position. I was on the hiring review committee, though, and you were by far the most qualified candidate for the job. I’ve been in your corner since before you were hired.”

  “For real?”

  He flashed that crooked smile of his again that was so endearing and irresistible.

  She said softly, “And here I thought you were busting my chops and trying to chase me out of the department.”

  “Nope. Exactly the opposite.”

  She reached up and laid her palm lightly on his cheek. “Thank you, Reese.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. You earned the job, and you’ve been knocking it out of the park ever since you got here. All the credit goes to you.”

  “Well, shoot. Now I’m embarrassed,” she confessed.

  “Don’t be. Own the space you’ve earned.”

  “When did you become such a feminist?” she queried.

  “Since my partner on the force showed me that women are every bit as good at police work as men, and since her sister showed me women make first-rate forensic scientists, too.”

  “Surely, your mother had something to do with this enlightened attitude.”

  He chuckled. “She would blister my butt if I was anything less than respectful to any woman. And I don’t mess with my mama.”

  “I hear you. I wouldn’t ever cross mine, either.”

  “Your mom is a sweetheart. She took care of my dad in the hospital after his heart attack. She gave him just the right combination of kindness and tough love he needed to get back on his feet and change his eating and exercise habits.”

  Yvette smiled fondly. Her mother had often been a distant figure in her life, with a big family to care for, her husband’s career to support and demanding career of her own. But she never for a moment doubted that Lilly loved her as fiercely as she loved all her children. Her mother had always called her My special gift and My littlest angel.

  Reese commented casually, “Did anybody tell you your dad’s coming to the police department tomorrow to turn himself in?”