Cookies for Christmas by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter Three

  

See, this isn’t so bad.

Lyndie had on her favorite yoga pants with a cozy hooded sweatshirt and a thermal T-shirt underneath. Gran’s afghan was draped over her legs and Meg Ryan was telling Tom Hanks that daisies were happy flowers in You’ve Got Mail. All was good. All was fine. Nothing wrong with a thirty-five year old woman spending Christmas alone on her grandmother’s couch.

Except that everything was wrong with it.

Lyndie ripped off the afghan and headed to the kitchen for some tea. If she was going to act like a senior citizen, she should at least have tea. Maybe she could find Gran’s knitting needles and make her own goddamn afghan.

As she stood at the kitchen sink filling a mug with water, a knock sounded on the front door. At least it sounded like a knock. But it couldn’t be. Not on Christmas.

Ignoring what she’d thought she’d heard, Lyndie walked to the microwave and put her mug inside. She punched in the time and was just about to hit the start button when the knock echoed in the foyer again.

Her detective reflexes kicked in and she opened the drawer by the dishwasher where she’d hidden her gun. She was probably overreacting, but she’d feel even dumber if she got killed opening the door because she hadn’t brought her weapon.

She crept down the hallway to the foyer and nudged the curtains on the closest window aside with the nose of her weapon. The outside floodlight was on, but she couldn’t see the front steps from that angle. Fresh boot tracks and paw prints made a trail in the snow up the walkway though. Gran’s overgrown hedges blocked the view to the driveway so she couldn’t see if a vehicle was parked there.

A third knock resonated off the door, followed by a deep, “Lyndie?” and a bark.

Wait a minute…

She knew that bark. She knew that voice.

It couldn’t be.

She ripped open the door to find Zak and Spock standing on the front steps. “What are you guys doing here?” Why did Zak look so delicious in his jeans, black boots, and black ski jacket?

“We’re delivering these.” He held up a metal tin with a green and red holly design all over it.

“What is it?” She still couldn’t believe her partner was standing there. That he’d driven all the way to Pennsylvania on Christmas. With his dog.

“Well, invite me in, Lydnie, and I’ll show you what it is. It’s freezing out here. A guy needs some warming up.”

His green gaze connected with hers in a way that torched something inside her. Something that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel. Not for Zak anyway.

Interesting.

“Umm, yeah. Come in.” Why hadn’t she already invited him in? What was wrong with her? It was just Zak, the man she saw almost every single day. The man she trusted with her life when they were on the job. The man who she’d been thinking about while watching Meg and Tom fall in love with each other in the movie.

Why had you been thinking of Zak and falling in love? Those two things didn’t go together. Did they?

Zak brushed past her and slipped his jacket off as his dog trotted behind him. She watched Zak move, her eyes resting on the way his backside filled his blue jeans, the way his long legs carried him forward with powerful, confident steps, the way his shoulders rippled with toned muscles beneath his green thermal shirt.

Why hadn’t she noticed how hot he was before?

Spock settled on the wood floor in front of the television while Zak threw himself onto the couch and patted the space beside him. “Come here.”

Lyndie couldn’t swallow. Something tingled in her stomach. Well, okay, if she was being honest, it really wasn’t in her stomach. Zak just looked so comfortable on Gran’s couch. The way he was grinning at her was doing crazy things to her body.

“Come on, Lyndie. Here, Lyndie, girl.” He used his higher, dog-calling voice as he wiggled the tin.

Snapping out of her stupor, she put her gun back in the kitchen drawer and walked toward him. She sat on the other end of the couch, two cushions between them. She folded her legs in front of her and tried to smooth her hair which had to look like a clown wig right about now. Why hadn’t she worn something else? Her yoga pants and hoodie were the definition of unsexy.

Oh shit, why are you thinking of being sexy with Zak?

It was as if someone had come along with a giant pencil and was erasing the normal Lyndie who had been perfectly content just working with Zak. In Normal Lyndie’s place, that pencil was drawing a sexually-charged, hungry—so hungry—woman who wanted nothing more than to strip her loyal partner down to his skin.

Crazy.

Zak pulled the lid off the tin and revealed an assortment of holiday cookies.

“Are these Theresa’s?” She’d had Theresa’s sweets before. The woman was a freaking magician with sugar and flour.

He nodded and selected one covered in powdered sugar. Holding it out to her, he said, “Open up.”

She knew it’d be stupid to deny she wanted to eat that cookie—and possibly the man. Leaning forward, she attempted to take the cookie from him with her teeth, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Bite,” he said.

When she raised her gaze to his, saw how he was looking at her with such intensity, such… emotion, she wondered where Gran kept the fire extinguisher. She was surely going to need it once she spontaneously combusted on the couch.

She bit down on the cookie and felt the powdered sugar dust her lips. She started to lick the sugar off, but Zak shook his head.

“Don’t.” He put down the other half of the cookie and scooted closer to her. “Let me.”

He leaned toward her, slowly, until he was close enough to feel his breath on her. Sliding his hand to her cheek, he closed the distance and pressed his incredibly smooth, full lips to hers. Powdered sugar mixed with his manly taste. Heat swirled around Lyndie and her hands slipped up Zak’s shoulders, her fingers threading together at the back of his neck to hold him there, in that moment, one she wanted to go on forever.

She heard unzipping, felt Zak tug her sweatshirt off her shoulders, smelled the scent of his shampoo as he gently coaxed her to her back on the couch. She burrowed her hands under his thermal shirt, under the T-shirt beneath, and pulled both off in one move.

A rumble sounded in his throat as he explored her mouth with his tongue gliding against hers. She shivered beneath him, and he stopped.

“Are you cold?”

“No.” The word came out on a whimper for she wanted—needed—his lips back on her.

“Good. Because you’ve got too many clothes on, partner.” He grinned wickedly as he pulled off her shirt and realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Why has it taken me so long to see how beautiful you are?”

“Because most of the time, we’re disguised as seedy people living lives of crime?” she offered.

“Maybe, but there’s no denying it, Lyndie. You’re perfect.”

After giving her breasts more attention than they’d ever had, he raked his fingers along her sides all the way down to the waist of her yoga pants. He peeled those off with her underwear and just looked at her, naked beneath him.

“So perfect,” he whispered.

It should have been weird. Being naked with Zak, but it wasn’t. Not even a little bit. Instead, the final puzzle piece locked into place, creating a whole picture, a picture she couldn’t see until this very moment.

She let him look a few seconds longer, relishing the expression on his face. One that said he wanted her. Badly. Then she flipped him to his back on the couch and removed the rest of his clothes.

“You’re pretty stunning yourself, Detective Preston.” She kissed a line up his sternum, over his slightly bearded chin, and ended at his mouth. “And now that you’re naked too we’ve evened the playing field.”

“Play. Yes. Let’s.” He scooped her up as he rose from the couch. “Where to?”

“Guest bedroom is that way.” She pointed down the hall.

He set her down on the bed and climbed up the length of her like a large animal. He was all muscle and scrumptious male and everything she had ever wanted, but she had to ask one question.

“What if this doesn’t work out?” She’d never forgive herself if they ruined their work partnership or their friendship by getting… involved.

He sat back so his phenomenal bottom pressed onto her thighs, and she almost couldn’t remember her own name, let alone the question she’d asked.

“Why wouldn’t it work out, Lyndie? Have I ever given you any reason not to trust me? Have I ever done anything meant to hurt you?”

“No. Never.” He’d only looked out for her. Always.

“Right. And you’ve never done anything to hurt me.”

“Except that time I broke your fingers in that safe door on the job. Remember?”

He laughed and wiggled his fingers. Fingers that certainly weren’t broken now as they trailed over her skin. “I remember, but that was an accident.” He played with the ends of her hair. “What’s happening between us now? This is no accident. This is purposeful.” He shifted to press himself against her and kiss her lips. “This is right.” He kissed her again, deeper this time. “This is your Christmas present.”

“I thought the cookies were for Christmas.”

“I’m much better for your health.” He traced a circle around her breasts with his index finger, making her arch closer to him. “Besides,” he said, “you told me you were going to have amazing sex tonight. I couldn’t let your Christmas wish go unfulfilled.”   

And so, this was truly the last place she expected to spend Christmas, but as he kissed her again, Lyndie knew Zak Preston was the best Christmas present she’d ever received.

In the mood for more holiday fun? Visit my website and download another Christmas short story, Midnight Mistletoe, for FREE!

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Happy Holidays!

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com Adult Romance
www.christymajor.weebly.com Young Adult Romance

Cookies for Christmas by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter Two

   

“UNCLE ZAK!” Four year old Joey’s squeal was enough to bust windows. 

Zak pushed his phone into his pocket and kicked snow off his boots as he went back into his sister’s house. For some reason, he didn’t care for the way Lyndie had said Merry Christmas to him. It had sounded… hopeless.

“UNCLE ZAK!” Joey came running from the kitchen and plowed right into Zak’s kneecaps.

“Easy there, kid.” He picked the boy up and carried him like a sack of potatoes under his arm into the kitchen while Joey flailed his limbs and giggled.

In the kitchen, his sister secured plastic wrap over the remains of their spectacular Christmas dinner—a gargantuan ham with all the trimmings a man could imagine.

“Theresa, you really ought to tie this monster up or something. He’s wild.”

“I’m not wild, Uncle Zak,” Joey said as he beat his tiny fists against Zak’s back.

“Not wild? Not wild? You’re practically foaming at the mouth, buddy.” He set Joey down and made a big show of grabbing a dish towel and pretending to wipe the boy’s face. “Complete animal.”

“I seem to remember a certain younger brother of mine who acted very much the same when he was four.” Theresa nudged Zak away from the refrigerator so she could put the leftovers away.

“I’m certain I was never so uncivilized.” He stuck his tongue out at Joey who raced toward his kneecaps again, this time clamping onto his left leg like he meant to stay awhile.

“You were totally barbaric. Trust me.” Theresa laughed as Zak shook his leg to dislodge Joey. “I’m afraid it’s going to take more than that to free yourself. For a little guy, he’s got a grip like a vise.”

“I can see that, however, I have a secret weapon.”

Joey looked up at Zak with huge brown eyes, and when Zak wiggled his fingers and lowered his hands to Joey’s sides, the boy positively shrieked.

“No tickling, Uncle Zak! NO TICKLING!”

“What’s that? Lots of tickling? Please tickle me, Uncle Zak? Well, okay.” He drilled his fingers into Joey’s ribs and immediately his nephew released his grip to squirm on the tiled floor like a spastic earthworm. Laughter roared out of Joey as tears leaked from his eyes.

“No…no…no…Uncle Zak! Stop! MAMA!”

“More?”

“No! No more! Mama, HELP!” Joey gasped for air around his laughter.

“You’re going to kill my child.” Theresa scooped Joey off the ground and shielded him from a still approaching Zak. “Mama will save you, baby.”

Joey cuddled into his mother’s chest, his head nuzzling her neck, but he gave Zak a truly stunning smile, one that made Zak think about having his own kids someday.

Someday… when I can find a woman who doesn’t mind my job.

He ran into this problem over and over again. As a detective, he did tons of undercover work. He spent more time pretending to be someone else than he did being Zak Preston, a guy who liked mountain biking and running with his Doberman, Spock. He seriously dated a handful of perfectly suitable women, maybe even thought some of them could be The One, but it always ended the same.

“You’re never around, Zak.”

“You missed my birthday, Zak.”

“You didn’t come home for three nights, Zak.”

“Are you cheating on me, Zak?”

And finally, “We’re through, Zak.”

He didn’t blame them. He knew when they’d had enough of his lifestyle. They didn’t understand why he liked his job.

But Lyndie did.

She totally got it. In most instances, they were undercover together, and though the cases were serious business, they always managed to have fun. As much fun as hanging out with dangerous criminals could be anyway.

He remembered this one time when Lyndie went undercover as an exotic dancer to get intel on a mob boss. She accomplished the mission—she always accomplished the mission—but he had no idea that she’d look so… so phenomenal in a black leather corset and spike heels. Thinking of that now made him feel a tad overheated.

“Hey.” Theresa poked him in the bicep. “What’s up?”

“Huh?” He blinked at her, drawing himself out of his own mind. “Nothing’s up.”

“I asked if you wanted to move onto the dessert round.” She still had Joey in her arms. Sounds of the rest of the family coming in from the backyard where they’d been building snowmen filtered into the kitchen.

“Dessert round? Have you ever known me to say no to the dessert round?”

“Not once.” A smile replaced the look of concern on Theresa’s face. “Here, hold this little monster.” She transferred Joey to Zak’s arms, much to the boy’s screeching delight.

“Do you need any help?” He hoisted Joey over his shoulder.

“Nope. Just go out to the living room and make sure a soaking wet Spock isn’t sprawled out on the new leather couch Santa gave me. I had to be good for the past ten years to score that one.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.” Zak gave her a mock salute and grinned when Joey did the same.

“Aye-aye, Mama!”

Theresa planted a sloppy kiss on her son’s cheek before Zak walked into the living room.

He set Joey down just as Spock trotted over. Though the dog looked intimidating with his sleek black fur and metal spiked collar, he was a huge marshmallow when it came to kids. He sniffed Joey’s hands and face then dropped down to bare his belly to the boy.

Joey threw himself onto Spock, and boy and pooch rolled all over each other as if they were litter mates.

“Uncle Zak, come see our snow family!” His niece, Shelley, pulled him over to the sliding glass doors. “See, there’s Grampie and Mama.” She pointed to a tall, broad-shouldered snowman wearing an old John Deere baseball cap and a shorter one wrapped in one of Theresa’s flowered aprons. “Mama’s making snow cupcakes!”

Theresa owned a bakery and Zak knew first hand if anyone could make snow cupcakes taste like the best dessert on the planet, his sister could.

“And next to Mama,” Shelley indicated a snowman in a football jersey, “that’s Daddy.”

“I see.” Zak kneeled beside his niece to see everything from her perspective. “And who’s that by the swing set? They look like Smurfs.”

Shelley giggled and pushed Zak until he fell back on his ass. “That’s me and Joey, silly. We’re wearing our winter hats.”

“Oh, okay.” He returned to his knees and looked at the picnic table across the yard where a snowman sat on the bench with a blob of snow he assumed was Spock. “Is that me?”

“Yep.”

Shelley skittered off when Theresa came in toting a tray full of holiday cookies. As the rest of his family followed the tray, mouths watering, Zak stood and took a moment longer to regard the snowman version of himself. A crooked stick arm reached from the snowman to the snowdog, and though he knew Shelley and the rest of the family loved him, he wondered why they’d put him way over on the picnic table with Spock instead of pushing the kids on the swings or having a snowball fight with them or standing with the rest of the adults. Why was he so separate? Did they think he was more connected to Spock than to them? Did they think he was lonely? Was he reading way too much into a simple snowman display?

Probably.

Still, he would have felt better if there were a hot, curvy snowlady sitting beside him at the picnic table.

If Lyndie had come…

Damn. Why had he thought of Lyndie? They were partners. They solved cases together. Nothing more.

That’s not true.

No. They were more than partners. They were friends. They looked out for each other both on and off the job. Hadn’t that been why he’d called her today? To make sure she was okay in Pennsylvania after what that jackass Trent had done.

That’s not why.

Oh, hell. He hated that voice in his head that was insisting on honesty right now. That voice that was explaining things he’d never taken the time to really think about. That voice that sounded like Lyndie’s.

“Uncle Zak,” Joey called from the dining room. “I’m eating all the peanut butter cookies!”

Theresa’s peanut butter cookies were Zak’s absolute favorite. She put dark chocolate chips in them and with a tall glass of milk, they bordered on orgasmic.  

Been a while since you experienced anything orgasmic.

That damn voice had to stop, and he just thought of the perfect plan to shut it up.

He marched into the dining room, plucked a peanut butter cookie out of Joey’s little hand, and popped it into his mouth.

“I need some of these,” he told Theresa. “To go.”

“To go?” His sister raised her eyebrows.

“Where are you going?” His father asked.

“It’s Christmas,” Shelley and Joey said together.

Zak finished another cookie. “I have a present to deliver.”

Tune in tomorrow for Chapter Three, the conclusion!
In the meantime, hop on over to my website and download another holiday short story, Midnight Mistletoe, for FREE!

Toodles,
Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com Adult Romance
www.christymajor.weebly.com Young Adult Romance

Cookies for Christmas by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter One

 

This was the last place she expected to spend Christmas. Ankle deep in hay and horseshit. Nose running in the frosty winter air whistling through the cracks in the old barn walls. Fingers just about numb around the pitchfork handle.

Seriously? You’re using a pitchfork? On Christmas?

Lyndie McDowell shook her head while she spread fresh hay in the last stall. She should be wearing a fancy dress—something red and sparkly. Something that would turn heads as she walked into Trent Wister’s family home in Newport, Rhode Island. She’d received an official invitation from Trent’s mother herself with the words We’re so looking forward to meeting you written in the perfect handwriting of a well-to-do society woman. A woman, who had raised—well, paid a nanny to raise—four sons, all of them successful lawyers.

Trent was the oldest and by Lyndie’s eye, the handsomest of the brothers with his neatly styled brown hair, clean-shaven face, and bright blue eyes. The man brought buckets full of hotness to a tailored suit too, and she remembered actually sighing aloud the first time she’d seen him.

Lyndie was the lead detective on a high profile case and waited to enter the courtroom when Trent walked by. Everything shifted down to slow motion. Her partner, Zak Preston, had been saying something to her, but she didn’t register the words as Trent stopped to regard her.

“You’re gorgeous.” His smile was a hook on the end of a fishing pole.

She had willingly gotten caught.

“Thanks,” she’d managed to say after a few awkward seconds of silence. She remembered trying to smooth out her curly, brown hair which had a mind of its own.

Trent reached into his jacket pocket and produced a business card. Holding it out to her, he’d said, “We must have dinner, Blue Eyes. Call me.”

She stared at the card. Zak plucked the card from Trent’s outstretched hand.

With another killer smile, Trent gave her a slow once-over that promised many things—naughty, naughty things—and then he was gone in the sea of dark-suited lawyers, uniformed cops, and shackled criminals.

“What was that?” Zak said.

“Huh?” Lyndie rubbed her eyes as if waking from a dream. A really awesome dream.

“That guy has some balls.” Zak crossed his arms across his chest, looking like his typical protective self. “How did he know you and I weren’t together?”

At that, Lyndie laughed, a deep, snorting, can’t-catch-your-breath laugh. “You and me? No one would believe that.”

He grinned in that way that had female suspects confessing on the spot. “You’re right. What was I thinking?” He handed her Trent’s card, then ran his hand through his already messy black hair.

“You going to call him?” He narrowed sharp, forest green eyes at her.

“Has it been at least a year since I’ve been properly laid?” She’d tucked the card into her cleavage, making Zak chuckle. “I deserve a present like him.”

She had a really, really good time with that present over the last six months. Trent was amazing. He took her to expensive restaurants, blew her mind with over-the-top getaways, dazzled her with Broadway shows and so many other wonderfully romantic dates. When they made love, she forgot everything but him. He was attentive and considerate and passionate. So passionate.

It was heaven.

Until she drove to his office three days before Christmas to surprise him with two packed suitcases and plane tickets to Rhode Island so they could get to his family home earlier than planned. She walked up to his secretary’s desk as she had millions of times. The older woman looked at her like she was watching a Godzilla-sized tarantula approach.

Weird. Mona’s always been so cordial.

Lyndie put that aside and offered Mona a friendly smile before rounding the corner and plowing right into Trent’s office.

Her eyes hadn’t been able to process the scene at first.

Why were there black high-heeled shoes and women’s clothing scattered like jacks across the ultra-polished wood floor of Trent’s office?

Why were soft moans and gasps emanating from the burgundy leather couch Lyndie knew was just beyond the half wall to her right?

Why was the photograph of Lyndie in Paris Trent kept on his desk missing?

“Oh, Trent, we need to do this more than every Wednesday,” came a sultry voice from beyond the half wall, followed by bodily noises that belonged on adult-only programming.

Lyndie felt an instant stomach ache as the intellectual portion of her brain brought the rest of her to the logical conclusion.

Trent was a dick. Or more specifically, Trent’s dick was a dick and had been busy. Quite busy by the sound of it.

And so, that’s how Lyndie ended up on her grandmother’s farm in Pennsylvania for Christmas instead of in a Newport mansion, drinking champagne and eating shrimp cocktail.

I love champagne and shrimp cocktail.

She’d be lucky to get a warm beer and a tuna fish sandwich here. Before Gran left for a cross-country holiday in an RV with her new boyfriend, Chester, she’d called Lyndie to come babysit the horses. Being pretty full of herself with her Big Successful Lawyer, Lyndie told Gran she couldn’t do it. She had better things to do.

Calling Gran to say she didn’t have better things to do sucked. Royally.

It was better than moping around her New York apartment.

“Because moping in Pennsylvania is way more productive, right, Rusty?” She ran a hand along the palomino’s mane, finger combing out some of the knots.

Lyndie rested her head against Rusty’s neck. The horse did her a solid favor and pushed back against her. At least someone enjoyed her company.

After a gentle slap to Rusty’s back, Lyndie checked the latches on the other three horses’ stalls, making sure no one would be able to escape and have a wild evening in the dark, snowy woods of Pennsylvania.

Wild evening? Those two words are an unknown in these parts.

The only thing she had scheduled tonight was microwave popcorn and a Meg Ryan movie marathon. Her transformation to Complete Loser was almost complete.

Grumbling to herself, Lyndie stomped up the back porch stairs of Gran’s farmhouse and stepped into the kitchen. She unlaced her boots, beyond surprised that no horseshit had adhered to the soles. Setting them aside, she shed Gran’s wool-lined flannel shirt and hung it on the peg by the door.

Wool-lined flannel shirt. Ugh.

If the guys at the precinct saw her wearing that, she’d never hear the end of it. Zak would make country bumpkin jokes for months. That thought made her smile a little. Her partner could be a ginormous pain in the ass, but a day didn’t go by where he didn’t make her crack up about something. He was the funniest guy she knew and the only guy who always did exactly what he said he’d do. He never let her down.

She moved further into the kitchen to get microwaving that popcorn when her cell phone rang.

“Speak of the Devil,” she said after seeing Zak’s picture on the screen.

“Who are you speaking about me to? The horses?” Zak’s voice was a lifeline.

“I guess I was more thinking of the Devil instead of speaking.”

“Spend a lot of time thinking about me?”

“Not if I can help it.” This was another thing she loved about Zak—the banter, the barbs, the busting of balls.

“Ouch. I’m mortally wounded.”

“You’ll survive,” she said. “Why are you calling me on Christmas?”

“I felt bad for your sorry, yet shapely ass. All by yourself in Amish country.”

“I’m not in Amish country.”

“You’re on a farm in Pennsylvania, Lyndie. What’s the difference?”

“Electricity.”

He laughed, a deep, husky rumble that thawed her somehow.

“What are your plans for tonight?” he asked.

She looked at the microwave then the lumpy couch in Gran’s living room. “I’m going to go night ice-skating with the hot guy that lives next door. Then he’s going to make me a magnificent dinner, complete with a decadent dessert. Finally, we’ll strip our clothes off, slowly, and worship each other until the sun comes up tomorrow.”

“Popcorn and a movie, huh?”

“Shut up, Zak.”

“What, don’t I get any partner points for checking up on you?”

He did. He so did.

“I’ll add them to the ledger after my night of amazing sex with the neighbor.”

“Who is—and I’m just guessing here—under five feet tall, about seventy-five years old, missing multiple teeth, and hairy as a gorilla.” He could hardly finish without chuckling. “How’d I do?”

“And I repeat, shut up.” But she was laughing too, because he’d described old Mr. Franshaw next door perfectly.

“You’ll be okay tonight?” Zak’s voice was serious.

“Sure. Just going to slip into my Totally Pathetic T-shirt and veg. I’ll be fine. Enjoy the rest of your Christmas, Zak.” She knew he was with his sister’s family. His niece and nephew were no doubt climbing all over their favorite uncle.

“You could have—”

“Come with you,” she finished. “I know, but I’m really fine. Honest. I’ll see you next week.”

“Okay.” He was quiet for a minute. “Merry Christmas, Lyndie.”

“Merry Christmas, Zak.”

She hung up the phone, feeling lonelier than before she’d picked it up.

Tune in tomorrow for Chapter Two!
In the meantime, hop on over to my website and download another holiday short story, Midnight Mistletoe, for FREE!

Toodles,
Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com Adult Romance
www.christymajor.weebly.com Young Adult Romance