Yule Be Mine (8 page)

But then he shook his head, kissed the end of her nose, and rolled out of her arms and out of the bed.

“Be right back,” he said, and she watched the muscles flex in his shoulders, butt, and thighs as he left for the bathroom.

Should she get up, dress, and leave? Should she ask to stay? Would he
tell
her to leave?

She heard running water and splashing, the flush of the toilet, and she got up to take her own turn in the bathroom. Parker paused to absorb the sight of her nude body as she passed him in the hall. He didn't touch her, and he didn't say anything.

When she returned to the bedroom, the lights were out, but she could see the distinct shape of his long body beneath the covers.

She'd almost figured out what to say when he lifted the blankets aside to invite her in.

“Come here,” he said. “It's cold. I don't want you to get ill.”

Relieved, Lily slid in beside him, felt his arms close around her, and wanted to melt in contentment. She could do this every night, for the rest of her life, and never have a moment's regret.

“Happy birthday, Lily.”

She smiled. “You make a heck of a birthday present.”

He grunted, already more asleep than awake. She shouldn't push her luck, but…“Would you do me a really huge favor?”

His hand coasted down her back to her bottom. “If it's sexual, I'm your man.”

She laughed, but quickly grew serious again. “It has to do with Christmas Eve.”

His arms tightened. “Thank God, I'm off for a week. I'm going to unplug the phone so my mother and sister can't nag at me, then I'm going to watch television and pretend it
isn't
a holiday guaranteed to bring about depression and desperation.”

Not a very promising start, Lily thought. She toyed with his chest hair and purposely misled him. “I don't get together with my family till Christmas Day, and I don't want to be alone. Will you spend the day with me?”

The seconds ticked by with no reply, and Lily wondered if he went to sleep. Or maybe she'd angered him by pushing.

Finally, he said, “As long as it doesn't involve shopping, wrapping, singing, or celebrating, then yeah, I'd enjoy your company.”

She'd already done the shopping and wrapping, the choir didn't need him, and celebrating was something done in the heart, so she'd leave that up to him to work out. “Thank you.”

His rock hard shoulder moved beneath her head. “I figure I owe you, anyway.”

Furious, she bolted upright. “I made love with you, Parker. I didn't do you a damn favor.”

Eyes glittering in the dark, he said, “I was talking about my earlier insult.”

Blast. A little sheepish, she asked, “Which one?”

“Where I accused you of being a hooker.”

“Oh.” Lily resettled herself against him. “Now you know how ridiculous that was.”

His hand slid down the length of her spine. “I dunno. I think you'd make a heck of a living selling this sweet little body.”

“Flatterer.” She kissed his chest and hugged him. “Seriously, after being considered a meal ticket, it's kind of nice to be viewed as a…” She grinned. “Sexpot, instead.”

Parker swatted her ass. “Keep it up, Lily. I'm older and wiser, and have developed innovative ways to get even.” His palm smoothed over the sting on her cheek, and he added, “In the morning, after I'm rested up, I'll make you pay for those taunts.”

And Lily, more content than she'd ever been in her life, whispered, “Promises, promises.” But already, Parker's breath had evened into sleep.

His paybacks would have to wait, because in the morning, she planned to show him how special the holidays could be. Then she planned to steal his heart. This Christmas, she wanted it all.

She wanted Parker Ross.

T
he second Parker awoke, he knew she was gone. He sat up, saw the clock, and groaned. Noon. Jesus, she'd worn him out.

He rubbed his tired face—and smelled cookies baking.

He heard Christmas music.

He heard Lily singing again.

So she hadn't gone home. No, she'd just left his bed to bake. His heart softened.

Shit, the last thing a cop needed was a soft heart.

He felt old, damn it. What happened to the days when he could put in a long shift, make love for hours after, and still greet the morning with boundless energy?

Long gone, apparently, considering his blurry brain and gritty eyes and aching muscles.

Yet, in stark contrast, Lily was up and singing and baking.

Determined to match her, Parker threw the covers aside and stalked to the closet. But all he saw were dark suits, navy blue and brown, and they all looked too…dated. The differences in their lives showed even in his friggin' closet.

But…did he still care about that?

He sniffed the air again, smelled the cookies, and shook his head. Screw the clothes and age differences.

He wanted Lily.

Bypassing the dresser drawers that held his jeans and shorts, he walked into his kitchen—and got a very pleasant surprise.

Wearing one of his shirts and nothing more, Lily bent at the stove to remove a cookie sheet. Man. What a wake-up call.

Sneaking up behind her, his approach muffled by the music, Parker waited until she'd set the hot baking sheet aside, then slid his hands around to her belly and pulled her back against his chest. “Good morning,” he rumbled.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” She turned in his arms, saw his nude body, and her jaw loosened. “You're…naked.”

“Really?” He looked down at himself and said, “Damn, I forgot pants.”

She returned his teasing look. “Parker.”

“Doesn't matter. You look better in my clothes than I do anyway.”

Hands opening on his chest, she whispered, “Hey, I wasn't complaining,” and she treated him to a killer kiss that chased away the rest of the cobwebs and gave him a lethal Jones. “Coffee?”

He shook his head and snagged her close again.
“Sex.”

Laughing, she darted out of reach. “Your hair's standing on end, you've got enough whiskers to remove a layer of my hide, and I have more cookies to bake.”

Damn. Rubbing his chin, he realized she was right. He turned away, intent on one thing. “Fine. I'll be back for the coffee in ten. Finish up your cookies.”

“But…”

“You wanted me. Well, now you've got me.” He sent her a quick wink. “Wait for me in the bed.”

Parker closed the bathroom door on her laughter. But he realized he was smiling, too. She made him feel lighthearted, when he hadn't thought that possible, especially during the holidays.

 

True to his word, Parker opened the bathroom door only ten minutes later. He spotted her sitting in the middle of the bed, and like a fantasy from a dream, he started toward her, steam billowing out around him, trailing in his wake. His stride was long and sure, his whiskers gone, his wet hair combed back.

Still naked.

Yearning curled inside her, and Lily knew it'd be so easy to stray off course, to forget her plans and wallow in the sensuality he offered.

But as much as he tempted her, as much as she wanted him at that very moment, she also wanted more. She wanted forever.

She started to tell him that they needed to talk, but Parker didn't give her a chance. He never slowed, and his steely gaze never wavered. His big hands landed on her shoulders, driving her down to the mattress, and his mouth swallowed her gasp. She found herself flat on her back, covered by hot, aroused male.

“Parker,” she moaned.

“Now that I've had you,” he whispered near her ear, “I want you even more.”

Given his confession, there probably wouldn't be a better time to segue into a discussion on their future. Lily closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and said, “You think you'll want me in a year? Or five? Or…”

He pushed back from her, but Lily kept her eyes closed, too cowardly to look at him, too afraid she'd see his discomfort, or worse, outright rejection.

His lips brushed hers, his hand cradled her face. “What are you talking about, Lily?”

Well, shoot. She'd have to open her eyes for that. She peeked, and saw he looked merely curious, a little tender, still really turned-on. Not annoyed. Not angry.

Turning her face to the side, she nodded at the large memory book on his nightstand. “I have a gift for you.”

Now
he frowned. “We agreed—no gifts.”

“No, we agreed no singing or wrapping or…whatever. Besides, it's not that type of gift.”

Warily, he glanced at the nightstand. “A photo album?”

“Memory book.”

Both hands cupped her face. “Let's make some new memories. Starting right now.” And he tried to kiss her again.

Lily pressed her head back into the pillow. “This is important to me, Parker.”

“God I hate when women say that.”

For that, she gave him a shove. “It could be important to you, too, if you'd stop being such a grinch and just listen.”

Growling out a complaint, Parker rolled onto his back and covered his face with a forearm. “Okay, let me have it. This is about Christmas, isn't it?”

Slowly, Lily sat up. Parker looked far from receptive, but still she reached for the heavy leather-bound book and cradled it in her lap. As always, touching it, thinking about it, made her sentimental and reflective. Poignant memories brought a lump to her throat and tied her stomach in knots. “There are…some things about me that I think you should know. Things that might make a difference.”

His arm dropped away, and his expression filled with concern. “What is it?”

Heart pounding, chest tight with nervousness because this was so important, Lily stared into his beautiful eyes. Strong, tall, protective Parker—how could he not know the difference he made to so many?

Tears welled, and Lily dabbed at her eyes, trying to laugh, trying to dredge up that carefree attitude that he seemed to dislike so much.

“Oh, Jesus, honey, no.” In a rush, Parker sat up beside her. He looked crushed as he smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. “I can't take it. Please don't cry.”

“I'm sorry.” Darn it, she sounded like a strangling frog. “Ignore the tears.”

“That's impossible.” He tipped up her chin, his expression full of compassion and concern and heart-wrenching tenderness. “Is this about Christmas? It is, isn't it? I shouldn't have been such an ass. If you really want me to wrap presents, I will. Hell, I'll even help you with the cookies. Just don't cry anymore.”

Wonderful, special Parker. “It's not about cookies or material gifts. It's about the holiday spirit, the kindness of strangers.” She drew a deep breath. “Without that kindness, I wouldn't be here.”

A strange stillness settled over him. “What do you mean you wouldn't be here? What the hell are you talking about?”

She could never think of the generosity of the human spirit without an excess of emotion. Even as she smiled, the tears trickled down her cheeks, shaming her for being such a sentimental sap, especially since she knew Parker didn't feel the same. “I would have died, Parker. My mother, too.”

For several strained moments, Parker said nothing, he just breathed deep and fast, as if her statement had left him shaken. Then he pulled her into his lap, tucked her head under his chin, and said, “Okay, I'm listening. Tell me.”

Hopeful, Lily opened the book. On the first page was the most important article, but she flipped past it. It was special, so she'd save it until the end.

“See this one?” The headline read, “Man Honored for Act of Heroism.” Lily explained, “The woman had a seizure and her car struck a gas pump. Flames were everywhere. The people close by could see that her doors were stuck, trapping her inside.”

Parker read aloud, “Phil Benton pulled Margery Wilson from her burning car, disregarding his own peril. Moments after freeing her, the gas tank exploded.”

Lily sighed. “It was Christmas Day. Mr. Benton was on his way home to his wife and children. Their dinner was ruined because he spent several hours at the hospital.”

“He was hurt?”

She shook her head and forced the words out around the lump of emotion clogging her throat. “No. He stayed with Margery because otherwise, she'd have been all alone. When the hospital released her, he took her home and she had Christmas dinner with his family.”

In pensive silence, Parker smoothed his hand up and down Lily's back.

She turned the page to another headline. “High School Student Survives Gunshot Wound,” she read. “In a true act of heroism, high school senior Dennis Clark came to the aid of his best friend during an armed attack on Christmas Day.”

“I remember that one,” Parker remarked quietly. “The kid protected his friend after two masked guys had beat him unconscious and tried to rob him. He got shot in the shoulder.” He stared at the photo that accompanied the article. “It was touch and go for a while there.”

Lily nodded. “He still has the bullet in his shoulder.”

On a deep breath, Parker whispered, “And he still has his best friend.”

Pleased that he'd see it that way, Lily smiled. “Yes.” She showed Parker one article after another. Twenty pages worth—and that was only one of her albums. She had others. Maybe someday she'd be able to go through them all with him.

Finally, after working up her nerve, she turned back to the first article and trailed her fingers lightly over the page. “This one is mine.”

Parker stared first at her, his eyes seeing into her soul, his expression one of dawning comprehension before he gave his attention to the faded newsprint.

In his deep, quiet voice, he read, “Detective's Heroism Saves Pregnant Woman.” He paused, tightening his hold on her. “Your mother?”

More tears blurred Lily's vision. “She was a nurse on call. That Christmas, we had almost three feet of snow, then a layer of ice. A lot of streets were closed. The salt trucks couldn't keep up.”

“But she was a nurse, so she braved the weather.”

“Yes.” Lily laid her head on his shoulder. “Mom had just parked in the upper level of the garage and taken off her seat belt when…one of the road crew trucks clearing the garage lost control. It started sliding in the ice and the driver couldn't stop it or steer it away from her. It happened so fast…”

“Damn.”

“It slammed into her car. The impact of the collision ejected her head first through the windshield. But that wasn't the worst of it. She landed on the garage floor and the salt truck rolled over her, snagging her underneath it before crashing through the guardrail. It didn't go completely over the side to the level below. It sort of just hung there, keeping her trapped.”

The room grew so quiet, Lily could hear her own heartbeat and sense Parker's dread.

“Mom wasn't able to breathe. She was pretty broken up, with multiple system traumas and several fractures, including a skull fracture. And at any moment, that truck could have fallen to the parking level below.” In a whisper, Lily added, “She would have been crushed. We know that.”

Again, Parker's arms tightened on her, and he sounded almost as pained as she felt whenever reciting the story. “But someone saved her.”

Turning her face up to his, Lily smiled. “A detective…like you.” She turned back to the article and touched it with reverent fingertips. “The crash drew a lot of attention. Hospital staff ran out, but no one knew for sure what to do. It was such a dangerous situation. Anyone who got too close would be putting his life on the line. The detective didn't hesitate though. Knowing there wouldn't be much time left before Mom suffocated, he worked his way under the truck with a bag mask. My mother says she can still remember his calm voice commanding her to take slow, easy breaths, to hang on…” Lily gulped on her tears. “He told her everything would be okay—and she believed him.”

His face buried in her neck, Parker asked, “You weren't hurt?”

“No.” Lily gave a watery laugh. “They delivered me that day by emergency C-section, almost at the same time they were patching up Mom. I was small, but healthy.”

“Thank God.”

“And the cop who helped her.” She snuggled closer to him. “He waited, you know. To make sure she'd be all right. To be there with her in case she needed him again. Mom says when she talked to him later, he said all he could think of was his own pregnant wife at home and how Christmas wouldn't be the same without her.”

The seconds ticked by, and Lily's anxiety grew. She had no idea what Parker felt, what he thought, if baring her heart had made a difference to him.