CRIMINAL CHRISTMAS: A Set of 8 Holiday Suspense Stories, page 18
Silly man.
Syd stared down at her notes with Albert Meade’s phone number. Hiring a Santa had been the easy thing in this process. At least until Santa hadn’t shown up and she’d gone to her office to check her notes and give him a call. Upon opening her file, she spotted the name, got the ultimate of all sick feelings, just a mind throttling bout of nausea, and grabbed the newspaper hoping against hope that she was wrong. And—voila—her Santa had gotten pinched and was now in the county lock-up.
“I’ve got this,” Grey said, pulling out his phone.
“You’re amazing, Grey, but you’re not going to find me a Santa on Christmas Eve in the next thirty minutes.”
“No. I’m going to be Santa. That’s a no-brainer. Mitch is going to make it up to you by finding me a suit.”
And, ohmygod, leave it to Grey to come up with a way to not only satisfy Syd, but get Monroe out of trouble. If she didn’t love him before, she loved him now. He could have gone out and found the damned suit himself, but this man knew how to work a situation. One phone call would get him two wins.
If they weren’t in her office with a bunch of little kids down the hall, she’d do him right now.
Grey eyed her while waiting for Monroe to pick up. “You’ve got that look, Syd.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’d let me bend you over this desk.”
The man knew her too well. “Fed Boy, you pull this off and when this party is over and everyone is tucked in their beds, I may let you do that. Just this once. Never again.”
His eyebrows shot up. Until now, her office had been off-limits to canoodling. She ran a shelter for battered women. Part of her responsibility, she felt anyway, meant not parading her healthy relationship in front of a group of women accustomed to the wrong side of a man. But for this, assuming they wouldn’t get caught, she’d make an exception.
“Yeah,” he said into the phone. “It’s me. You got thirty minutes to find me a Santa suit…...I don’t give a shit. Syd’s Santa for the shelter’s party was one of those dumbasses we busted last night. An op you initiated. If you get my drift.” He looked up at her and blew her a kiss. “Yeah. Got it. Thirty minutes or Syd carves you to pieces. I’m out.”
He stabbed at the screen and shoved the phone back into his suit pocket.
“What did he say?”
Grey shrugged. “Let’s just say he understands the volatility of the situation.”
Twenty-seven minutes later Monroe and Caroline rushed through the back door of the shelter, breathing a little heavy, their faces flushed. They each carried a contractor sized green garbage bag. At least they’d thought ahead and hid the suit.
They both wore jeans and sneakers. Mitch wore a sweatshirt announcing beast mode was engaged and Caroline a zip-up hoodie. Something told Syd, they’d left wherever they were in a hurry and grabbed whatever form of outerwear at hand. They hustled into Syd’s already cramped office and dumped the bags on the floor.
Grey shut the door behind them.
“It’s not pretty,” Mitch said, “but it’s a Santa suit.”
Caroline tore one of the bags open and yanked Santa’s jacket out. “It’s a little weathered. It was the only one left. We tried every party store in a ten-mile radius.”
Mitch grabbed the bottom half of the costume. “Given the time constraints, ten-miles was our max.”
“Weathered” didn’t give this suit justice. The legs were torn in two places, the bottoms completely frayed and the top had some sort of nasty stain on the left breast. No wonder it was the last one in the store. No one would want it.
“I don’t care,” Syd said. “We’ll make it work.” She walked over to Monroe and smacked a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. I didn’t want to have to kill you.”
He snorted. “Anything for you, Syd.”
“Great. Now get out so Fed Boy can turn into Santa. You got the beard, right?”
Caroline held up a smaller bag. “We bought a new one. I was grossed out by the idea of a used beard. Who knew who wore that thing? And Santa’s belly is in that bag.” She pointed to the second garbage bag. “You might need extra padding though. It’s a little lame.”
Grey nodded, his mind in full-on Operation Santa mode. “Thank you, Caroline. I’ll get you a raise.”
“You will? How sweet. Now I’ll be able to buy that extra cup of coffee.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Syd didn’t know exactly how much Caroline and Mitch were paid as part of the Justice Team, but this was the federal government and no one on Grey’s team would retire to the Swiss Alps on their salary.
“Can we stay?” Caroline asked. “I love watching kids open presents.”
“Of course you can stay. You’ll love it. For some of these kids, it’ll be the only gift they get.”
For the lucky ones who were currently living at the shelter, as if that made them lucky, they’d wake up to more gifts—compliments of Grey—on Christmas morning. According to him, no child should wake up on Christmas and not have gifts to open.
God, she loved this man.
No time for that now. “Mitch, go out there and start spreading the rumor that you heard something on the roof. Operation Santa is about to launch.”
With Monroe and Caroline in spy mode, Syd helped Grey get into costume. While he adjusted his beard, she fastened the thick black belt, her fingers brushing against the itchy fabric of his jacket. He’d be lucky if he didn’t wind up with a rash. “I’m sorry you have to wear this awful suit. But damn, you make a hot Santa.”
Grey adjusted his beard for the third time, finally gave up, and blew air through his lips “Give it a rest. I’m the worst Santa I’ve ever seen.”
“It doesn’t matter. They’re kids. They’ll love you.” She reached up, squeezed his cheeks. “I love you. You always manage to save me.” Then she kissed him, scratchy, rough beard and all, and as their lips brushed, and maybe a couple of tongues did some dancing, she felt it, that familiar ping in her chest. Grey did that to her. Every time.
He pulled back, dropped another quick kiss on her lips and grinned. “Just don’t forget what you said about bending you over the desk.”
Typical man. “That’s nothing. Keep this up, Fed Boy, and you might wind up with another Twelve Days of Christmas.” She retreated one step and swatted him on his fake flab. “Now, let’s make some kids smile.”
In a flurry of activity, Syd rushed down the hall and slapped her hands over her cheeks right before she reached the archway leading into the common room that was really just the living room of the old Victorian. “Here’s here!” she hollered, unleashing every ounce of excitement her body held.
The room went crazy. Kids screamed, mom’s laughed, and little Jackie Dennis, cut up that she was, fell on the floor in a faux faint.
Syd lost it. All the planning, all the stress and angst came down to this one moment when these kids forgot about the beatings and yellings they’d witnessed from men who were supposed to love their mothers. Tears filled her eyes, but she laughed, faking it the whole way because she would not let these kids see her cry.
Grey, a.k.a. Santa, nudged her from behind. “Hey, pretty lady. Get a move on, I got business to transact.”
She turned back, met his gaze. “You are so getting lucky tonight.”
“Excellent. Now get outta my way.”
An hour later, the room had gone quiet, all the kids clustered around Santa’s feet as he reached for the last box. All the kids had received a gift and Syd wasn’t sure what was left, but she guessed they’d soon find out.
She leaned casually against the huge archway leading into the common room watching the festivities with Mitch and Caroline. The four of them, once again, had averted a disaster. The smiling faces all around proved that, and Syd took it all in, breathing through the range of emotions that ran through her. Working at the shelter wasn’t easy. Each day she interacted with women whose husband’s inflicted their rage on them, sometimes leaving them with permanent injuries, the loss of vision or a few broken teeth.
The women in this room though had found the courage to run. To save themselves and their children who would one day be someone’s wife or husband. Someone’s parent. For that alone, that strength, that willingness to face an uncertain future with no husband to support them financially, Syd would help every one of them.
Santa reached for his last gift and the box sent up a red flag to Syd. Odd. She’d sat at Grey’s kitchen table—now her kitchen table too—and wrapped each gift, methodically adding bows and ribbon to each. And she didn’t remember one shaped like a shoebox. But, thanks to Grey’s melted credit card, there’d been a lot of toys and clothes and shoes and in her delight of wrapping each one, she could have lost track.
What did it matter as long as everyone left happy? She glanced around at the moms and kids now all huddled in groups oohing and aahing over their gifts and Syd’s heart opened up. Just expanded in her chest because all the work they’d put into this had paid off.
She turned to Mitch and Caroline. In this twisted world of Grey’s Justice Team, they’d become her family. Finally, after years of being raised by a single mother and then losing her mom to mental illness, she finally had an extended family.
Even if it was a weird one.
Mitch looked at her, his eyes a little wary. “What?”
Grasping both his and Caroline’s hands, she squeezed. “Thank you. I love you guys.”
“My life is made,” Mitch said. “I got two hot women in love with me.”
Caroline blew out a breath. “Ignore him. He’s an ass, but we love him.”
“Okay, kids,” Santa said over the growing chatter in the room. “I have one more gift. This one is for Sydney. Where’s Sydney?”
All at once, the kids went crazy, screaming Syd’s name and pointing to her. Rolling her eyes, really playing up her shock, she laughed. He’d gotten her a gift. How sweet was that?
Santa patted his lap and oh, boy, he was pushing it with this one. She perched onto the edge of his knee, her back to him while she grinned at the kids. God, this was fun. And then Santa grabbed hold of her legs and shifted her crossways across his lap. She leaned in and whispered, “Hey, Santa, let’s keep it clean here. We have a room full of kids.”
All of whom now kneeled on the floor in a small circle around them.
He handed her the box. “You’ve been a very good girl, Sydney.”
After that Twelve Days of Christmas thing, he wasn’t kidding. For kicks, she placed one hand on her cheek and gasped sending the kids into fits of laughter. “For me, Santa?”
“Yep.”
“Why, thank you. Should I open it now?”
Because knowing her man, he probably had something naughty in that box. And the smile behind that stupid beard only confirmed Grey was enjoying this.
He leaned in, got right next to her ear. “It’s okay. The kids can see.”
Going to work on one end of the box, she lifted the tape, peeling back the paper. “I knew I didn’t recognize this box.”
“I had it in the car. I sent Monroe out to get it while you were setting dessert out.”
“You sneaky boys.”
“That’s us.”
Under the wrapping paper was—she guessed it—a shoebox. For a pair of men’s size twelve dress shoes. Grey’s size. “Fed Boy, I hope you’re not giving me a pair of your shoes.”
“Nope. The box is a decoy.”
A decoy. Excellent. She set the box on her lap and flipped the top off. And, oh, this man.
A surge of emotion shot clear up her throat and trapped all her air. She squeezed her eyes shut, held one hand over her mouth because he’d remembered. He’d remembered.
Months earlier they’d taken an impromptu trip to New York City. While there, they’d strolled past Tiffany’s and she’d casually mentioned she’d never bought or received anything in a Tiffany blue box. And, hello, there’d been one pair of diamond earrings that had caught her eye. She couldn’t imagine what they cost though and—wow—if he’d bought her those earrings she’d fall right off Santa’s lap.
“What is it?” one of the kids yelled.
She reached in, grabbed the small gift box and held it up. “Girls, all of you take note of this box. I don’t know what’s in it, but I’ve always wanted one of these boxes.” She turned back to Santa, gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for remembering.”
He shrugged. “I do what I can. Open it.”
“Is it the earrings?”
He winced. Not a good sign. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not the earrings. Those were a hundred-thousand-dollars. Still, I hope you like it.”
Whatever it was, she’d love it. Simply because he remembered she wanted a Tiffany blue box. “You know I will. If you gave it to me, I’ll love it.”
She tugged on the white ribbon and Grey grabbed it from her, set it down on the floor next to him. Taking a deep breath, savoring every second of receiving her first gift from Tiffany’s, she lifted the lid off the box only to find another box. This one velvet and Syd’s pulse kicked up.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted him watching her, his gaze focused in that intense way he did when working an assignment, sorting and prioritizing evidence. “For the love of God, Syd, open the damned thing before I have a stroke.”
She dug the smaller box out and flipped the lid open. “Holy shit.”
Grey burst out laughing and Syd slapped her hand over her mouth. After all the lectures she’d leveled on staff members about salty language, she’d just let it fly in front of a bunch of seven-year-olds.
But, holy, holy shit.
Her eyes feasted on a brilliant and sparkling diamond ring. Platinum and easily three carats, the large center stone was surrounded by smaller ones that cascaded down either side of the band. Damn that thing was gorgeous. She reached up with her free hand, but stopped, almost afraid to touch it as her pulse hammered and ohmygod, she might be the one having a stroke.
Growing up, she’d dreamed of diamonds like this. Diamonds and a man that would love her and take care of her. Cherish her. Then life fell apart and her mother was hospitalized and suddenly her dreams didn’t matter anymore because Sydney Banfield obviously wasn’t meant for diamonds and princes. Sydney Banfield would scrap and claw her way through life alone.
Which she’d done.
Until Grey.
“Sydney swore, Mama!” one of the kids yelled sending the room into an uproar of laughter.
“What is it?” another one hollered.
Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. She opened her mouth, croaked out a word and stopped to clear her throat. It’s a ring.
For me.
She tilted the box so the kids could see it. “It’s a ring. Isn’t it beautiful?”
The kids all oohed and aahed again as she recovered from being knocked stone cold. What had he done?
With his left hand, the one behind her, he patted the upper part of her rear. “What do you think? Wanna marry me?”
“I’m...I’m...Oh. My. God that’s the most amazing ring I’ve ever seen.”
He nuzzled closer to her ear. “I’m sorry. My plan had been to do this differently. I know you don’t like to advertise our relationship around here. I figured I’d wait until the place cleared out and the two of us were alone. I wanted to do it here because you love this place. You change lives here and I thought maybe, if I got really lucky, you’d change mine here too. So, that was the plan. At least until you started threatening to kill my buddy and we went to plan B. As usual, anything involving Monroe usually blows up.”
Syd laughed. “That’s true. He’s like crack though. We can’t stay away.”
“Yeah. So here I am, waiting for you to answer. And let me add that it takes a giant set of balls to ask you to marry me in front of all these people. I mean, you know me. I never do anything without analyzing it to death and I took a flyer here. And, well, are you gonna answer me sometime today?”
She nodded.
“Is that a yes?”
Leaning into him, she snuggled into his neck, breathed in his soapy, clean scent and finally let her tears fall.
Maybe Sydney Banfield did get to live her dream after all.
“Yes,” she said. “Giant yes. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“I love you, Syd. I’d do anything for you.”
“I love you, too, Santa.”
Grey snatched the ring from the box and slid it on Syd’s finger. She held her hand up so the crowd could see it and more oohs and aahs filled the room. The moms in the back clapped. These women whose lives had fallen apart still found it in them to be happy for her.
Syd waved at them, threw them all a kiss. “I guess Santa and I are getting married.”
“But,” Lucy Jones said, “I thought Santa was already married.”
“Ah, Christ,” Grey muttered. “We just made Santa a bigamist. Should have went to plan C.”
“What was plan C?”
“Hell if I know.”
Mitch called from the back. “This guy? He’s really the Grinch dressed as Santa, and today, he finally found the true meaning of Christmas. His heart grew three sizes today.”
Someone in the crowd started clapping again and the rest joined in. Grey, though embarrassed, smiled and Syd smiled back. The Post was right...they were holiday heroes. And her hero—this man who put serial killers behind bars and played Santa for a group of shelter kids—was the best of them all.
About the Authors
USA TODAY bestselling author Misty Evans writes the award-winning Super Agent romantic suspense series, as well as an urban fantasy and paranormal romance series. She likes her coffee black, her conspiracy theories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When her muse lets her on the internet to play, she’s on Facebook and Twitter. Read more about her and her stories at www.readmistyevans.com.
USA TODAY bestselling author Adrienne Giordano writes romantic suspense and mystery. She is a Jersey girl at heart, but now lives in the Midwest with her workaholic husband, sports obsessed son and Buddy the Wheaten Terrorist (Terrier). She is a co-founder of Romance University blog and Lady Jane's Salon-Naperville, a reading series dedicated to romantic fiction. For more information on Adrienne's books, please visit www.AdrienneGiordano.com. Adrienne can also be found on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/AdrienneGiordanoAuthor, Twitter at http://twitter.com/AdriennGiordano and Goodreads at http://www.goodreads.com/AdrienneGiordano. For information on Adrienne’s street team, Dangerous Darlings, go to http://www.facebook.com/groups/dangerousdarlings.
