12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (15 page)

E
mma lives
in Texas in a sprawling ranch style home with her husband, daughter, and a pack of rescue Basset Hounds. She is an advocate for the American Society of Autism and does her part to spread awareness about the disorders associated with the Autism, sharing the experiences she’s traversed with her daughter.

Needless to say, life is never boring when you have an elementary-aged child and four or five 4-legged friends roaming the house. They keep her and her husband busy, smiling, and laughing.

Her stories reflect her love for the Lone Star State, sexy cowboys, high-powered action, dogs, and romance.

P.S. She also writes paranormal romance as
Krystal Shannan
 so if you need a little magick in your story, hop over and take a look.

C
opyright
© 2015 by Allie K. Adams

A
LL RIGHTS RESERVED
:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

L
ICENSE NOTES
:
This Ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Ebook may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with others, please purchase an additional copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

A
ll characters
and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

P
UBLISHER

Allie K. Adams

www.alliekadams.com

C
hristmas turns
to chaos when the senior agents of TREX get together in Seattle for the holidays. What’s a forced reunion without a little laughter, a few tears, and a couple fistfights?

A
fter too many
hours under the same roof, too many alphas, and too little patience, tempers snap. The agents are out of their element in more ways than one, especially when the special director drops a bomb no one saw coming.

I
t takes
a 12-year-old autistic boy and his faithful companion to remind them all of the true meaning of Christmas. His appearance and the reason behind it reminds the agents why they’re together in the first place.

T
REX’S MISSION STATEMENT

T
actical Retrieval Experts
(TREX) is a privately funded agency independent of law enforcement, military, or any governmental restrictions. Our focus is on tracking and retrieving anything or anyone. Simply put: we find things. Employing highly trained agents with unlimited resources and extensive experience in covert operations, we will find anything and with guaranteed confidentiality. No matter the circumstances. No matter the danger. Call on TREX—we find what’s been lost.

W
ashington State Bureau of Investigation Special Agent Wayde Davis
stood off from the rest of the group, his arms folded across his chest. Something was off. He couldn’t quite place it, which didn’t please him any. He might not have the uncanny ability to read people like his boss in TREX, but he could hold his own. As a dual agent between the two agencies, it was his job to pick up on a person’s tells. He used to be a member of the SBI’s Special Victims Unit taskforce, but after losing his partner last year and having the bureau bury the fact, he couldn’t make the jump to homicide fast enough. Now every victim would get justice—as would the killer.

His attention zeroed in on the living room. He’d never seen so many stockings crowding a fireplace mantle. It was a fire hazard having that much flammable material so close to open flames. Try telling that to the women hanging stockings of every shape and size—both the stockings
and
the women.

Wayde watched his wife alongside several TREX agents and their spouses, some of them TREX agents as well. Why the hell was his house ground zero for Christmas? An old friend had given the mansion on Lake Washington to him and Mia as a wedding present. They’d just celebrated their first year of marriage. He had hoped to take his wife away for the holidays, their final vacation before the baby came along. What right did TREX have crashing the party? Sure, TREX had used it as HQ during the mission he’d met Mia. That didn’t give them permission to use it as headquarters for a
TREXmas
gathering.

Mia laughed, the melody dancing in the air and in her pretty jade eyes. She made being five months pregnant look good. Then again, she made everything look good. So did JT Weber, one hell of a field agent and the only woman able to deal with Special Director Dan Weber on a regular basis.

Wayde tensed every time Weber’s daughter stumbled too close to anything dangerous. The giant Christmas tree. The corners of all the tables. The cage in front of the fireplace. Hell, everything was dangerous when it came to a two-year-old. Especially Weber’s two-year-old. That kid had no fear as she chased the four-year-old around the room. It scared the hell out of Wayde knowing he’d have his own kid by April. Maybe he should start thinking about what it would take to baby proof this place.

Using his shoulder, he propped himself against the wall and crossed his arms as he glanced out the large living room window overlooking the water. He couldn’t shake the unease. Something didn’t fit. Why would the special director of TREX’s frontline divisions invite the special director of TREX’s sideline divisions to spend Christmas in Seattle? Dan Weber might be peers with Malcolm McKoy, but it was no secret they didn’t like each other.

So why the invite? And why on God’s green earth did Malcom feel the need to cart all seven of his kids—all TREX agents but one—from Montana with him? As if it wasn’t already crowded enough with the Seattle-based agents here.

Spencer Allen, one of two Special Agents in Charge and Weber’s second-in-command, approached and mirrored Wayde’s stance. He gave Wayde a quick assessment with that smoky gaze. The SAC always noticed every detail. It came in handy on finds.

Right now, it was damn annoying.

“What?” Wayde snapped, immediately on the defensive. He didn’t trust Spencer when he looked at him like that.

“I didn’t say anything,” Spencer mused and tipped his lips into a grin.

“You didn’t have to.”

Spencer chuckled and shook his head. “Are there any circumstances where you actually enjoy yourself anymore? Or is that scowl permanent?”

“Don’t bust my balls. I don’t see why everyone has to congregate here.”

“You could have said no.”

Wayde looked at him. “Yeah, right. And end up with shit jobs for the next ten years? No, thank you.”

“You have the biggest place to house all these McKoys.”

“No shit,” Wayde chuckled. “There are a mess of them.”

“If not here, we would have had to clear out your old apartment building. The TREX agents living there wouldn’t have been too happy about that. Well, except for Jason Bowman. He’s got a thing for one of the McKoys. Now that he’s got his own place, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing it with Bailey.”

Ah, the old apartment building. It would have ended up bankrupting Wayde had TREX not stepped in to take it off his hands and transform it into housing for agents. They’d retrofitted it with only the best in high-end security. Some units were used as safe houses, as well. It was that secure. Wayde had been thrilled happy to sell it to TREX.

“You want to tell me what’s got you so uptight?” Allen asked when Wayde didn’t so much as crack a smile at his comment. “Well, at least more uptight than usual.”

“Not really.”

“How about you try anyway.”

Wayde sighed. “I want to know why everyone is here. It bugs the hell out of me that I can’t figure out why Weber invited Malcolm McKoy. Sure, I may have the biggest house, but that doesn’t explain the why behind bringing everyone together like some damn family reunion.”

“We’re all TREX.”

“That doesn’t explain why both directors are here. Why not Montana? That’s where half these people are from anyway.”

“Take a look around,” Spencer said and nodded at the frenzy of activity in the living room. David Snyder, the other SAC in TREX’s frontline division and Dan’s closest friend, sat on the couch and watched his twins. The boys were locked behind a set of adjustable plastic gates locked together to make a giant playpen in the corner, throwing whatever they could at the adults. A four-year-old boy weaved in and out of everyone’s legs like a damn cat, retrieving toys and tossing them back into the pen. A little two-year-old girl followed him around like a lost puppy. They’d been at it for hours.

At least the youngest of the guests had finally cried herself to sleep. The screaming over everything else was like nails on a chalkboard. Just the thought of what Wayde was in for when he and Mia became parents had him close to stroking out.

His wife laughed at something JT said before pulling Spencer’s wife into the conversation. The three huddled and then regarded the men. Wayde and Spencer exchanged glances. Why the hell were they looking at them like that? The women laughed again and went back to hanging more stockings.

Bethany McKoy waddled in from the kitchen, a glass of milk in one hand and a cookie in the other. The baby she had cooking in there had to be close to popping out. Her husband Chris sat on the couch next to David and lit up the instant he spotted her. She rested on his lap and fed him some of her cookie. The wheelchair he still needed from time to time was a constant reminder of the spinal injury that’d left him permanently disabled.

The youngest of the McKoys, twins Bailey and Kaylee, sat at the large dining table with their brothers, playing some card game that forced them to shout out
bullshit
on occasion and earn glares from the mothers each and every time. Malcolm McKoy was nowhere to be seen. Neither was
Director Dan
, which sent Wayde’s guard inching higher. Where the hell were they?

“Chaos,” Wayde grunted. “That’s what I see.”

“I see family.” Spencer pushed away from the wall and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “I see TREX agents, some who’ve gone through hell and back. Others who have yet to get sucked into the one mission that changes them. I see men and women making the best of their time on this rock. You know what I don’t see?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Anyone miserable on Christmas—well, except for
you
. Our wives haven’t stopped smiling. Bethany hasn’t stopped eating.” They both chuckled. “Bailey just went through a breakup. You don’t see her moping.”

“The Bowman guy?”

“You don’t miss much,” he mused. “Jason Bowman. David bent my ear for an hour bitching about that guy. Apparently Jason and Bailey have a thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

“An off again, on again thing. Hell if I know. That’s what he called it before threatening to kill Jason for making Bailey cry.” He fell silent as he followed his son’s movements, the two-year-old right on the boy’s heels. The twin boys reached for the toddlers as more toys joined the others, both inside the pen and out. “My point is, we’re all together. Take advantage of it. You never know when fate will step in and change it all.”

Odd comment. Wayde faced Spencer and narrowed his gaze. The man shifted his eyes, avoiding his. “What aren’t you telling me? There’s a reason Weber invited McKoy. What is it?”

“What was that, Kathryn?” Spencer called out to his wife. Everyone else called her Kat. “Sure, I’ll get you some eggnog.”

“Oh, me too.” Chris lifted his empty glass. “Make mine leaded.”

“Chicken shit,” Wayde muttered lightly as Spencer marched off to carry out his duties.

It still bugged him he didn’t know where the directors had disappeared to.

His phone buzzed. Thank God. At least now he had an excuse to escape from all the noise. He hurried into the den and closed the door before checking the number. Alarms screamed in his brain. Why would his director at the SBI be calling him? Could this be the reason he’d felt
off
ever since his guests arrived? “Davis.”

“It’s Lawson.”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Wayde countered. “Why are you calling? Don’t tell me another church was robbed.”

“Worse. We’ve got a body.”

Well, hell. He would have taken the robbery over this. He tensed, readying himself to escape the chaos that had taken over his home. As soon as he thought of Mia, of the way she hadn’t stopped smiling since the first guest arrived, it gave him pause. If he left now, there’d be hell to pay when he returned, not to mention how many TREX agents would insist on tagging along.

“I know you’re off,” Lawson went on. “But, considering your, uh,
connections
…”

“Why do you need TREX’s help?” Wayde closed his eyes and pinched the skin between his eyes. The minute Lawson had learned of all the dual agents within the SBI, he never hesitated to tap into the additional resources.

“We need all hands on deck on this one. Besides, you have a connection to the vic. Carmen Ramirez was found dead tonight.”

Why did he know that name? As soon as it came to him, he inhaled sharply.
Vixens
. That damn club and the underground sex ring Wayde had broken up had drawn in every man this side of the Rockies. His partner Rhonda used to talk about Carmen as one of the girls who’d wanted out—and then she’d disappeared and Rhonda had ended up dead. TREX had found her, along with a dozen other women, locked in a cellar.

Carmen’s was the story the other women had hoped to have someday.
Innocent woman drugged and sold off to the highest bidder for sex every night is rescued and turns her life around, becoming the face of hope. Of recovery.
Of proof something good could come from such horror.
This was going to devastate Mia.

“What happened?”

“Apparent suicide. She dove off her second-story balcony.”

Wayde closed his eyes and ground out a curse. She’d been doing so well and had even reconnected with her little brother. It must not have been enough. Deep down, she still battled the demons the rest of the women battled each and every day. He had to find a way to tell Mia before she heard it on the news. Until then, he’d gather as much information as he could. “What do you need?”

“I need TREX to find her little brother. He’s missing. We think he saw the whole thing and took off, unable to process it. He’s autistic and has limited communication. According to the beat cop who walks him home sometimes, he talks to his dog more than he talks to humans. It’s twenty degrees outside. If this kid is out there…”

“He’ll freeze to death if we don’t step in.”