A Fate Filled Christmas (2 page)

"So what do you think?" Thelma asked.

"It's nice. Pretty." He stammered over the words. What could he say?
It's scary? I'm now blind? Something about gray hair down there turns me off?

Jane jumped into the conversation. "I noticed your plumbing is back to working."

He glanced up, bumfuzzled. "Huh?" Immediately, he looked down at his groin, praying his morning boner had vanished before his size and abilities dominated the conversation. Thankfully, his sweats fit perfectly, no stiff log jutting out.
Instead of torturing myself with hairy men, I could have just looked at a couple of calendar pictures and had the same effect.

"You and Brie. In the kitchen last night. Looked like your plumbing is all fixed right up." Jane winked at Brie. "Got your world rocked, huh?"

Brie's face colored crimson. Rye rolled his eyes. Leave it to Brie to have neighbors who not only visited way too often but also spied on them in their own home.

"My plumbing was never a problem," he grumbled under his breath. A few months back, the elderly ladies labeled him impotent when they stumbled across Brie in possession of a sex toy she'd never used. Afterward, everyone on the block looked at him askance as if pondering the truth to Thelma and Jane's story.

Thelma nodded. "Oh, I see. It was in your head all along. That happens a lot, I hear. Men are such sensitive buds, their egos easily bruised. I guess you were worried you weren't skilled enough to please such a beautiful lady like Brie here. Or maybe you had concerns you weren't big enough compared to other men." She tapped her fingers over her lips. "Understandable considering the size of her BOB thing. Size does matter, after all."

Rye sucked in a breath and choked on his own spit. After a couple of hard coughs and fist pounds on his chest, he stared at the women, determined to set them straight once and for all.

"I…"

Jane shushed him. "If it takes a pill to keep your flagpole at attention, so be it. There are worse things in life."

Thelma concurred.

"Like seeing naked old ladies' pictures before nine am," he muttered, only to receive a sharp elbow to the ribs from Brie. "Umph."

"Brie, dear. Hold onto this one." The taller of the two ladies advised. "He seems like a keeper and has a great ass to boot." She patted his rear.

He frowned and rolled his eyes. It was one thing for them to insult his sexual abilities, another to be felt up. Sidestepping, he shook his head. The only woman he wanted fondling his rear stood nearby with a wicked grin on her face.

His Brie radar pinged. She was up to something. Again.

"Bye, dear." Jane waved once more, then hurried out the front door after Thelma.

Rye shut the door behind them, still not quite sure what other dimension had opened and sucked him in. "Can you believe them? I'm not sure, but I just might be blind."

Brie shook her finger at him. "Be nice. Besides, Santa is listening. You don't want to be put on his bad list, do you?"

"Santa? Really?" He grinned at his teasing roommate. "While I haven't believed in the man or his helpers since second grade, I just might have something for naughty girls."

She tilted her head as her lips twitched. "I happen to be a nice girl, thank you very much."

"That works, too." With a wicked grin, he scooped her up in his arms, chuckling when she squealed and clung to his neck as if he would drop her otherwise. Like he would do such a thing. "Shall we head to the bedroom and see who's been naughty or nice?"

"Only if you refrain from calling me naughty."

"Deal."

Chapter 2

"Rye? There's an elf here to see you."

Swiveling around in his seat, Rye stared at Gary, completely bewildered. "An elf?"

"Yep."

Intrigued, Rye stood up and walked to the front desk. There he found a vertically-challenged man dressed in all-green spandex wearing a hat with a large jingle bell attached to the tip. The man's shoes resembled ballet slippers, matching the rest of his outfit in the same bright pine color. "You wanted to see me?"

"Are you Rye Taylor?"

"Yes."

The man glanced around before shuffling closer. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?"

Arching an eyebrow, Rye gestured to his left. "First office should be empty." Without preamble, he led the way, waited for the man to enter the room, then shut the door behind them both. Plopping down in a metal chair on the back side of a white table, he waited for the oddly dressed man to do the same before speaking. "Now, what is it you want to see me about?"

"Couple of things. First, I have a lead you might be interested in checking out."

"Such as?"

"Would you be interested in a ton of cocaine stashed in a house nearby and owned by a bigwig in the drug enterprise?" The little guy shrugged and stared at his nails as if he were simply discussing the weather.

"I'm listening." Rye leaned forward, grabbed a pencil and paper, and prepared to take notes. Even if the guy was pulling his leg, he had to check out any and all possibilities of illegal drugs.

"First and Elm. Old white house on the corner."

"How do you know this?"

The informant met his gaze. "I'm an elf. I get around. Hear things. See things."

Of course, the guy really believed he happened to be an elf. Most likely one of Santa's helpers directly from the North Pole. Never a shortage of odd people in his line of work. Not to mention, it was fruitcake season. Maybe reasoning with facts would help. "Elves are mythical creatures."

"Do I look like a myth to you?" The man waved at himself. "Who do you think does all the work at the North Pole? Makes all those toys?"

"Ummm. Whatever your name is…"

"Jingle."

Jingle? Why am I not surprised?
"Well, Jingle, hate to tell you this, but Santa is a myth, too." Rye ran one hand through his hair and contemplated recommending a good psychologist to the smaller man.

"Why does the fact you don't believe in Santa surprise me?" Jingle shook his head, sending the bell flopping and chiming merrily. "Good thing I'm in a jolly mood."

"Do I want to know why?"

For the first time, Jingle leaned closer, his expression turning downright serious. "Because I'm also your guardian angel elf."

Rye's eyes crossed. Leave it to him to be singled out from every other police officer on the force to have a guardian angel elf show up at his doorstep.
What in the hell is the world coming to?
"I see. And what does a guardian angel elf do?"

"Give you a helping hand and watch over you."

Rye nodded. "How long can I expect you to do this service?"

"Oh, until at least Christmas. Maybe a bit longer. Depending upon when Santa decides to return from vacation and fire up the workshop again."

"Great."

"Well, I'm off. Presents to deliver, kids to entertain." Jingle stood and hurried from the room, only pausing to wave. "I'll see ya later."

"I can't wait." Rye watched the odd visitor leave, then returned to his desk. Grabbing the phone, he called in the tip to the narcotics division. Within an hour, they verified the validity of his tip.

"The house is loaded. No one home. We're setting up a stakeout tonight. Get an idea who comes and goes. If all goes well, we'll try a major takedown in a day or three," the sergeant in charge of the narcotics division rattled on.

"I'll be damned." Rye's curiosity only escalated about Jingle and who the man actually was in order to know about such a big operation quietly going about every day business with no one in the area the wiser. Who cared who he was? If he could provide such excellent leads, he'd buy him the next pair of green ballet slippers. After all, good informants were hard to find.

He headed back toward his desk. "Hey, Rye."

Turning, he found Tim waving at him from his desk. "Got something for you."

Ambling over, Rye accepted the plastic bag, opened the top, and pulled the contents out. He stared at what appeared to be identical books. Only he knew better. "Damn. This is excellent work."

Tim grinned. "My wife knows what she's doing in the print business, probably why she's been in business forever."

Rye thumbed through the pages. "Do I owe you any more?"

"Nah. She stuck to her quote. We're good."

Replacing the novels in the bag, Rye nodded at the foot officer. "Thanks, buddy. This is perfect."

"Let me know how it goes."

"Will do." Heading back to his desk, Rye smirked to himself. He thought of the idea a couple days ago as he watched Brie become engulfed in her latest romance book. Snatching the next one in line, he made a duplicate cover and had it placed over an existing one. "I can't wait to see her face." With a chuckle to himself, he returned to his desk, stuffed the bag in the bottom drawer, and worked toward wrapping everything up for the day.

Chapter 3

"How about this corner?"

Brie tapped a finger against her lip. "Nah. Let's go back to the big front window."

Rye rolled his eyes but dutifully picked up the pre-lighted Christmas tree and placed it directly in front of the window. "You know this popular location is a burglar magnet? They see the tree, even some presents, and decide to help themselves."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that." She pondered for another moment, then waved. "Scoot it over to the right. In the corner, there. That should keep it from garnering too much attention, yet still be pretty without cluttering." When he moved the tree to her specified spot, she smiled. "That's perfect."

Bending over, he plugged in the light cord, giving her a great view of his well-sculpted rear. Sure, she'd seen his naked backside several times, including yesterday morning after their neighbors left. However, she never tired of the view.

He stood back up and pivoted before arching an eyebrow and grinning knowingly. "Like what you see?"

She blinked at him. "The tree? Yep. It's pretty there. And the colored lights add so much more than the plain clear ones."

"If you were staring at the tree like you were staring at my ass, you'd be a beaver eagerly anticipating sinking your teeth into my wood."

Now that idea has some potential. His woody staff. My tongue, teeth, and mouth.
She licked her lips as her stomach performed a slow exquisite somersault.

Rye walked over, a wicked smile on his face. Wrapping her in his arms, he leaned down to rub his nose against hers. "I think I've created a monster."

"What kind of monster?" She returned the hug and relaxed into his tall, muscle-ripped physique.

"Hmmmmm." His blue eyes twinkled.

"If you call me the bride of Frankenstein, I'll stomp your toe." Her brow furrowed in warning.

He chuckled. "Not quite Frankenstein."

Impatiently, she waited, lifting one foot in preparation.

"More along the lines of Nessie."

"The Loch Ness Monster?" Her mouth fell open. "You…" She slammed her foot down only to find his toe had moved. Quick as ever.

Laughing, he tsked at her. "Temper. Temper."

"I'll show you…"

Before she could finish her sentence, his lips sealed over hers, light and sensual, asking for entrance and a deeper tasting. She immediately granted his wish, the small chastisement completely forgotten under his skilled affections. "Wow." She blinked up at him when the lack of oxygen forced her to pull back.

His lips hitched up. "I could say the same myself. Who taught you to kiss?"

She smiled teasingly up at him. "You did or have you forgotten already?"

"No way, honey. I forget nothing when it comes to you."

Lowering her chin, she looked up at him through her lashes. "Not even that you love me?"

"That's one thing I'll never ever forget. You can count on it." Cupping her cheek with his hand, he pulled her close and sealed his lips over hers once more.

Lifting his head, he wrapped her smaller hand in his and tugged.

She followed, flopping down beside him on the couch as they both stared at the tree in silence. Snuggling against his large, warm frame, Brie laid her head on his shoulder. "Very nice." With the house lights off except the kitchen, the blinking tree lights cast brightly-colored auras of illumination across the room. Kind of romantic, come to think of it. She nestled closer. "You know this is the first tree I've had since I moved out."

A small grin tugged at his lips. "That explains why we had to purchase a tree rather than dig one out of the attic."

She snorted. "Yes, O mighty detective."

He patted her jean-clad thigh and nuzzled her temple. "I never bothered to get one either. There just didn't seem to be a point of dragging one out, decorating it, then putting it away a couple of days later. Besides, I wasn't home enough to truly enjoy it."

"Me, too." She sighed happily. "Our first tree."

"But not the last."