Santa's Posse (5 page)

“Well, either way,
I don’t plan on sleeping anytime soon.”

“I don’t know,” he
said worriedly.  “You look tired to me.”

She raised a hand
to smooth her hair back.  “Well, I mean, I know I look awful, but…”

He gave her an
alarmed glance.  “You do not look awful.  Injured, but not awful.”  He searched
her face and his lips twitched into a smile.  “Definitely not awful.”

Some sort of
silent communication passed between them, something charged with the current of
what she later realized was attraction, but at that moment, Kellie couldn’t
discern what it was or what it meant.  Maybe the blow to her head had made her
slow on the uptake.  She had just met him and he was a distraction she
suspected she could do without, considering she was just starting a new job. 
She needed focus. 
Focus
. 

She shook off her
concerns for the time being.  “Why is it we’re going to your place?” she asked,
hoping for clarification.  “I can stay awake at home as well as at your place,
I would think.”

“I have ice cream,”
he said succinctly.

She weighed his
answer with a nod of her head.  “Oh.  Good.”

Kellie woke the
next morning in her newly constructed bed, in her new bedroom.  There was a
definite chill in the air, despite the fact that the sun shone through the
stylish window panels she’d picked out special for the large bay window. 

As she lounged for
several moments in the comfort of her bed, she couldn’t help but be grateful to
Miles for assembling it for her.  What would she have done if they hadn’t run
into each other?  Literally.

With some
hesitation, she left the warmth of her bed and padded to her master bath.  She
snatched up a towel from her linen closet and hurriedly showered.  It wasn’t
until she left the shower that she spied herself in the mirror.  She winced. 
The bump on her head was now a mottled collection of black and blue shades,
with various purple hues radiating from the injury.

After a tentative
exploration of the impressive lump, she dismissed it and readied for the day. 
She stepped into her living room and spied the boxes scattered throughout. 
With a sigh, she realized a big job lay ahead of her; one she didn’t
particularly relish.  Deciding to wait until later before tackling the task,
she grabbed a couple of Pop Tarts and a bottle of water and headed outside for
a walk.  She realized she probably should have left her shower for later, but
decided hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

She found the
October air crisp.  It brought an abrupt eruption of goose bumps on her arm.  She
wondered if she dash back inside to grab a jacket, but decided she’d warm up
soon enough. 

She set off along
a trail that originated just beyond the main entrance to the condominiums and
continued on to a level, treed park nearby.  There, she began a brisk pace
around the meandering path, munching on one of the Pop Tarts as she went.

When she heard the
sound of footsteps on the asphalt path behind her, she didn’t bother turning
around.  The path was popular with neighborhood residents.  Suddenly, someone
pulled up beside her, slowing to meet her pace.  She glanced over, surprised to
see Miles.  He was dressed in sweats, a t-shirt, and a light, fleece jacket.

“Hey,” he said
with a grin.  “You’re up early.”

“I could say the
same thing to you,” she replied, returning his smile.

He suddenly
reached out and took her arm, bringing her to a stop.  She eyed him curiously,
until she realized he was checking out the damage to her forehead.  He winced
dramatically.        “Either you have a soft head or I have a really hard
chest,” he said drolly.

“Is this where I
tell you what amazing pectoral muscles you have, Commander?” she said, and
chuckled when his cheeks turned bright red. 

He appeared to
study his feet, but finally glanced up.  “I was not fishing for a compliment,”
he assured her.  “If you must know, I feel … terrible.”

She laughed.  “Why
do you feel terrible?  It was my fault.”  She waved off his worry.  “Really,
it’s no big deal.  I could give you a list of childhood injuries that far
surpass this one in severity.  For example…”

He raised his
hands.  “No, no, that’s okay.  You’re just trying to make me feel better.  I
mean, not that thinking about you having worse injuries than this one would
make me feel better…”  His words trailed off and he looked wholly uncomfortable.

“I’m fine!” she
assured him, shaking her head.  “Really.  Don’t worry about it.”

She started
walking again and he fell into step beside her.  “Is that a Pop Tart you’re
eating?” he asked.

She nodded. 
“Yep.  It’s smore flavored.  My favorite.  Would you like one?  It just so
happens I have another one.”  She held it out to him.

He chuckled.  “Uh,
well, no thanks.  I like to start my day with a little protein to go with my
Pop Tarts.”

She stopped to
study his physique, but promptly began walking again.

“What was that
about?” he inquired.

She shrugged. 
“Nothing.”  She wasn’t about to tell him that whatever his daily breakfast
selection, it was working in the fine physique department.

Suddenly, a strong
breeze blew through the path, rustling the golden leaves on the nearby trees
and causing Kellie to shiver.  Miles promptly slipped out of his jacket and passed
it to her.

“What’s this for?”
she asked him, coming to a stop again and eyeing the jacket in her hand.

“It’s cold,” he
said succinctly.

“Yes.  But if I
accept the jacket, you’ll be cold.  I’m curious.  Is there some law that says it’s
okay for a man to be cold, but that a woman mustn’t ever be cold?”

He measured her
with a chagrined glance.  “Yep, it’s a law.  And since I’m charged to uphold the
law, put the coat on.”

“No, really.  You
were smart enough to bring a jacket, I wasn’t.  I should pay for my error in
judgment, not you.”  She passed the coat back to him.

He grudgingly studied
it as he considered her words, and then glanced up to meet her eyes.  “If I
open a door for you, are you going to smack me upside my head?”

She considered his
words this time.  “Nope.  But that’s different.”

“How?”

“Opening a door
doesn’t involve a sacrifice on your part.  Well, usually, anyway.  I mean, I
guess it’s possible you and I could be running away from some danger, reach the
door to safety at the same instant, and then, well, we’d have a decision to
make.”

“I’d let you go
first,” he said without hesitation.

“You’re a cop. 
It’s what you do, huh?”

He shrugged.  “I’d
like to think I’d put your safety before mine whether I was a cop or not.”

“I’d let you go
first,” she informed him.

“I wouldn’t let
you.”

She shook her head
and began walking, both because she needed to warm up and because she wanted to
ponder Miles’ declaration.  Clearly, he was one of the good guys, but she
wasn’t interested in any guy right now—good or otherwise.  He was a
distraction.  A gorgeous, blonde, blue eyed distraction with chivalrous
tendencies.  She really should steer clear.  So why wasn’t she steering clear?

“What are you
thinking?” Miles asked her quizzically, taking her arm and bringing her to a
stop again.  “I can actually see the wheels turning behind your eyes.”

“Must be the head
injury,” she said.  When he visibly winced, she raised a conciliatory hand. 
“Kidding!  I’m fine.”  She started off again.  Unfortunately, her teeth began
chattering.

“You’re going to
catch pneumonia,” he pointed out as he walked beside her, matching his pace to
hers again.

“Yes, I might. 
But, if you give me your jacket, you could very well catch pneumonia.”

He sighed
heavily.  “If you and I go out to dinner, and I pick up the check, are you
going to make a scene in the restaurant?”

Kellie considered
the question.  “No.  As long as you allow me to pay sometimes.”

“How often?  Say a
sixty-forty distribution?  Or seventy-thirty?  With me paying more often, of
course.”

“Fifty-fifty is
good.”

“Okay, so am I to
assume from this conversation that you
will
go out with me sometime?”

She smiled.  “Are
you asking me out?”

“It happens I am,”
he told her, smiling back.  “Of course, we’ll probably have to wait until
you’re over the cold you’re going to catch.”

“I don’t get
sick,” she said mock smugly.

“Well, just so we
hedge off any potential illness…”  He slipped into his jacket, but then
surprised her when he draped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. 
She found herself pressed against his rock hard body.  She gave him a startled
glance.

“A compromise,” he
told her, meeting her gaze.  “Now, we’re both warm.”

She wasn’t sure
how she felt about him pulling her so close.  Once again, her heart began
beating in an awkward rhythm, and to her consternation, she found she rather
liked having his arm around her.    

He kept it draped
around her the entire duration of their walk, and when they reached the
crosswalk to the condominium community, and stood waiting for traffic to abate,
he pulled her even closer.  She felt his warmth radiate through her.      

When traffic eased
up, he still kept an arm over her shoulder.  Together they crossed the street,
and to her surprise, he led her to his place.

She pulled to a
stop, watching him curiously. 

“I’m going to fix
you a little protein to go with that Pop Tart,” he informed.

Kellie shook her
head ruefully.  “You really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he
said. 

Later, after they
had shared a breakfast of bacon and eggs, she smiled her thanks.  “You didn’t
have to do that, but it was delicious.”

“Yeah, I can crack
an egg with the best of ‘em,” he said.  “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“I have boxes to
unpack,” she said, and he opened his mouth to speak.  She quickly raised a hand
to quiet him.  “No.  It’s Saturday.  You have a life to get back to.  You’ve
already assembled my bed.  And just now you cooked me breakfast. You’ve done
enough.”

He gave her an
alarmed glance.  “Did you think I was offering to help you unpack?”  He shook
his head vigorously.  “No way.  I hate unpacking.  Don’t
even
ask me to
help you unpack.”

She watched him
with alarm.  She realized she really had been presumptuous to assume he was
about to offer to help her unpack.

“I was kidding!  Really,
I don’t mind helping you unpack.  I don’t have anything better to do today.”

She eyed him
skeptically.  “You’re telling me you don’t have anything better to do on a
Saturday than to help me unpack?”

He held up his
right hand and made a sad face.  “It’s true.”

“Well, as nice as
you are to offer, I don’t feel much like unpacking myself.  I think I’ll leave
those boxes for another day.”

He met her gaze,
his eyes alight with humor.  “Those boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves.  I
ought to know.  When I moved in here, I left my boxes sitting idly for
weeks—ignored them really—hoping they might suddenly unpack themselves.”  He
shook his head mock sadly.  “Nothing happened.  I finally bit the bullet and
got busy.”

“Well, I’m not
going to get busy today,” she declared.  “I’m going to the mall.”

“Why?” he
inquired, and then apparently decided he was being nosy.  “I mean, it’s none of
my business, but why would you want to go to the mall on the weekend when you
spend your workdays there?”

She shrugged.  “I
love the mall.  Don’t you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t
go quite that far,” he admitted.  “I mean, I like it okay.  Well, I guess I’m
not much of a shopper…”

“Oh, you don’t have
to be a shopper to love the mall.  There’s a movie theater there, and a
mini-putt golf-o-rama, and an arcade.  So much to do, really.”

He nodded semi-obligingly. 
“Yes, I guess so.  Hey, would you want to catch a movie with me?”

“Do you?”

“Sure.  I’ve
haven’t seen a movie in a long time.  In fact, I can’t remember when I last saw
a movie.”

“Let’s go then,” she
said cheerfully, anticipating an escape from the boxes. 

“Okay,” he said.  
“Any particular film you’d like to see?”

She was eager to
see a romantic comedy she’d seen advertised on TV, but wondered how he would
feel about a chick flick.  When she mentioned the name of the movie, he didn’t
appear to have an opinion one way or the other.  “Whatever you want to see,” he
said.

“I’ll go change,” she
said brightly.

“Me too, and then I’ll
be right over.”

She nodded and
then hurried to her condo.  As she was about to enter, Daniel and his mother
stepped out of their front door.  She turned and smiled at Daniel.  “Hi,” she
said.

He smiled shyly. 
“Hi, do you live there?” he asked, gesturing toward her place.

“I do,” she
answered with a smile, and turned her attention to his mother.  “I’m Kellie
Sanders.”  The woman did not return her welcoming smile.

“I’m Lynne Daily. 
You just moved in, didn’t you?” she queried.

Kellie nodded. 
“Just a couple of days ago.”

“I must have been
working,” she observed, “since I didn’t hear you.”

Kellie smiled and
glanced around awkwardly.  There was something about this woman—her manner felt
cool, aloof.  She soon found out why.

“You’ve met
Miles,” she said.  It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.  Both at
work and here.”

She nodded,
seeming to assess her with a critical eye.  “So you know…  Miles is one of the
good guys.  I’d … well, myself and all of his friends, would hate to see him
hurt.”

After making the
remark, the woman continued watching her with a challenging glint in her eye. 
Were she and Miles involved? Kellie wondered.  Did she view her as a threat to
their relationship?