Don't Open Till Christmas Page 12

  “Any good news?” Alice asked, looking hopeful.

  Noelle nodded. “Actually, there is. That close-out store downtown, Super Dave’s, offered to let us come in at noon on Christmas Eve and buy any leftover toys at fifty percent off the sticker price.”

  Alice smiled a little. “That is good news. Their prices are already really low.”

  “Exactly.”

  If only they had the cash to pay even those discounted prices.

  We will. Somebody was going to cough up the cash—either the mayor and his rich buddies, or the shelter workers themselves. They’d get it done.

  “Well then, I’ll see you later. Don’t forget the three L’s tonight,” Alice said.

  The reminder was a typical one. Whoever was on overnight duty at the shelter was reminded to look, listen, and mostly lock. There had never been any serious incidents here, at least not in the eleven months Noelle had been on the job. But that didn’t mean they didn’t occasionally hear threats from some angry man trying to track down his wife and kids in the Chicago social services system.

  After Alice was gone, she went back to her notes, hearing the voices of the children through the wall adjoining the playroom. The older ones were home from school and their little siblings were ready for some serious playtime with their big brothers and sisters. Just like any normal home…only these kids had had lives that were far from normal.

  “Damn,” she muttered, still so frustrated about the money.

  Frustrated about a lot of things.

  It might have helped if she could really focus on raising that money, rather than on the man who’d burst into her life the day after Thanksgiving. But it was practically impossible to forget him. Mark Santori had taken up residence in her mind. The real problem was, she wanted him to continue taking up residence in her body.

  If only she could be certain he wouldn’t take up residence in her all-too-battered heart.

  Still, physically she ached for him. Desperately. Sometimes, she wasn’t sure whether she would have been better off never going to bed with the man, thereby never knowing what she was missing. Most times, though, she just gave thanks for what she’d gotten and wished like crazy that she could keep getting it.

  Like Oliver Twist, she wanted to hold out her bowl and ask for more.

  But fortunately—or unfortunately—Mark had taken her at her word and hadn’t contacted her once she’d arrived back in Chicago. So much for Sue’s prediction that the man would find it impossible to resist her charms and would be battering down her door, refusing to take no for an answer.

  “He took no for an answer a little too easily,” she muttered, knowing she had no right to be disgruntled, but feeling that way anyway.

  “Who took no for an answer?”

  Jerking her attention toward the door, she felt her heart start to thud as she recognized the broad-shouldered man standing there. His green eyes twinkled with amusement, as if he knew exactly who she’d been talking about.

  Noelle sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, knowing her cheeks were turning pink. “Uh…just talking to myself.”

  He didn’t let it drop. Walking into the office, he shut the door behind him, then strolled over to lean on the edge of her desk, towering above her. “That’s the way rumors get started.”

  “Huh?”

  “My Great Aunt Rosa started talking to herself and the next thing you know, Uncle Santiago had the parish priest over to do an exorcism.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. Despite all her efforts to convince herself she only felt lust for Mark Santori, deep down, she knew she also really liked him. Probably too much. That realization gave her the strength to shake off her laughter, swallow hard and busy her hands with the paperwork on her desk. She’d remain all business if it killed her. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

  He tsked, shaking his head in disappointment. “No kiss hello?”

  She cast a quick glance toward the closed door. “Definitely not.”

  He frowned, his shoulders slumping as much as such a big pair of shoulders could slump. “Guess that means the oral sex is out of the question too, huh?”

  Laughter spilled across her lips even as her panties moistened a little bit at some very hot memories. She still hadn’t gotten to do all she wanted to do because Mark had remained true to the holiday spirit—wanting to give rather than receive. “You really are bad.”

  “I’m a middle child. Can’t help it.”

  Unzipping his jacket, he took it off and tossed it over the arm of the couch. Looked as if he was planning to stay a while. Uh-oh.

  “Are you here about the, um, robbery?” she asked, hoping he’d say yes. Hoping he’d say no. Wishing like hell she knew what she was hoping.

  “In a certain respect.”

  “Do you have any leads?”

  Mark’s negative shake of the head wasn’t much of a surprise, though it was a disappointment. “No, but since yet another store has been hit, I know these guys aren’t giving up. Which means they’re going to screw up and I’m going to nail them.”

  She didn’t doubt him. The certainty in his tone left no room for doubt.

  “I do have a bit of good news. I don’t know how much it’ll help, but I have a donation to make.” He dug into his pocket and took out a bank envelope, of respectable thickness. “I told my folks about what happened here, and they’ve had a big collection jar on the front counter of the restaurant for the past few nights. It’s not a whole lot…yet. But I’m hopeful for more.”

  Noelle’s jaw fell open. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when Mark walked through her door—seduction, bossiness. Self-assurance maybe. But not this. Not a considerate, thoughtful gesture that had absolutely nothing to do with the wild, sexy fling they’d shared a few days ago.

  And everything to do with that nurturing kindness she’d suspected in the man from very early in their relationship.

  We’re not in a relationship she reminded herself. If only she could convince herself of that.

  “Anyway, it’s a drop in the bucket to what you need, I’m sure, but there’s more where that came from.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, “Why would you do this? Go out of your way like this?”

  Mark sat on the chair in front of her desk, leaning back and kicking his long legs out in front of them. Clasping his hands over his chest, he tented his index fingers and shrugged in complete nonchalance. “It’s not exactly out of my way, Noelle. Anybody who heard about some kids getting scammed at this time of year would want to help.”

  Ha. So he thought. Noelle knew better—she still couldn’t get anyone from the mayor’s office to return her damn phone calls.

  “Have you thought about going to the media?” he asked.

  “Of course I have. But we try so hard to keep a low profile here. The last thing I want to do is draw the spotlight on this place, have reporters show the building or the neighborhood, something that might reveal our location.” Glancing toward the door, she added, “There are some unpleasant people out there who would really like to find out where we are.”

  Mark sat up, dropping his hands onto the arms of his chair. His fingers clenched, growing white with tension. “Has someone been threatening you?”

  Shrugging, she explained, “It goes with the territory, nothing specific. But my point is, I really would like to try to do this quietly, without bringing the press into it. So while I do appreciate your efforts, I hope you’ve been keeping them low-key.”

  “Completely anonymous,” he said. “The sign on the mayonnaise jar just says some needy kids were ripped off and are facing a pretty sad Christmas, and the Santori family is collecting donations. Absolutely nothing else.”

  She nodded, relieved, though she’d expected as much. Mark was too good a cop—too good a man—to endanger her or any of the families here by revealing too much information. She trusted him…more than she w
ould ever have trusted some nameless reporter who wanted to play up the schmaltz angle of poor, tragic children, and might put the story ahead of the safety of those same children.

  “Well, in that case, thank you very much. It’s deeply appreciated.”

  Before Mark could respond, the door to Noelle’s office burst open and four-year-old Ginger ran in. A wild child with a mop of red curls surrounding her pale little face, the girl was one of their newer residents. “Hide me!” she shrieked.

  Noelle merely raised a brow, watching Ginger dive behind the sofa. When not even a wisp of a carroty curl remained in view, she focused her attention on the door, where she knew whoever was “it” in the game of hide-and-seek would soon come knocking.

  She didn’t have long to wait. Mickey, a six-year-old with big gaps where his front teeth used to be, popped in. His eyes were wide and innocent in his adorable brown face, and he appeared to have been shoved from the outside.

  “Can I help you?” Noelle asked, trying to keep the laughter out of her voice.

  He stammered something, then raised his voice to whisper, “Is somebody in here?”

  “I’m in here, Mickey,” she replied, not wanting to give Ginger away. As the newest in the house, the little girl had been keeping to herself until today and Noelle wanted to encourage her to have some fun.

  The boy angled in, sliding to the side and bending to peek around Noelle’s desk, as if expecting to see Ginger’s red curls behind the chair. “Um, okay.”

  “I’m here, too, bud,” Mark said with a low laugh. Once he had the child’s attention, he made a big display of pointing behind the couch, giving away Ginger’s position.

  A huge, gummy smile creased Mickey’s face, and he darted around Mark’s knees to find Ginger. She reacted with a shriek, then tore off out the door, Mickey hot on her heels. They were both gone sixty seconds after the girl had entered the office.

  “Wow. Is that how you spend your days?” he asked, good humor evident in his voice.

  “Pretty much.”

  “You must like kids.”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  Mark rose from his chair. “So, were you planning on having a bunch of them with that asshole who broke your heart?”

  Noelle gasped, almost flinching at his bald statement. Mark didn’t look the least repentant, he merely waited patiently for an answer to his intrusive question. “How did you…”

  “Your cousin gave me a few more details about why you left Christmas to come here.”

  Sue. Noelle made a mental note to ream out her cousin, after the baby was born, of course. “Well, she’s obviously got a big mouth and too much time on her hands.”

  Mark sat on the edge of the desk, his big body towering over her again, making her feel all small. Feminine. Vulnerable. “I told her to give me the guy’s address so I could go over and beat the shit out of him. Either that or shake his hand. I haven’t quite decided which I want to do more.”

  Her jaw dropped. Leaning down, Mark brushed the tip of his index finger down her chin, and across her lips, gently closing her mouth. “Part of me wants to pound him into a pulp for hurting you. Another part wants to thank him for not making me an adulterer.”

  Once again, he’d shocked her into speechlessness. All she could do was sputter. “Wha…huh…”

  “I mean, if you’d been married when we met, I would’ve been doing some serious breaking of the Ten Commandments. I’ve always done okay at that whole no-coveting thing. But you, honey, would have been enough to make this former altar boy turn into an unrepentant sinner.”

  FOR THE FIRST FEW DAYS after Noelle had left the inn to go back to Chicago, Sue waited impatiently to hear from her. She was dying to know what had happened when Noelle got her “thank-you present” from her hunky new man. Staring at the phone, she willed it to ring, knowing Noelle would be responding sooner or later.

  That the response would include some ranting and raving was a given. Sue had, after all, wrapped up an X-rated video and given it to Mark to hand-deliver to her cousin in Chicago.

  Hopefully, though, after the ranting and raving was over, Noelle would admit to some wild reunion sex. Wild reunion sex had been the plan all along…the reason she’d quietly given Mark Santori the package Monday, asking him to deliver it in Chicago when he got home. The guy had practically salivated at the excuse to see Noelle again, never knowing, of course, what was in the wrapped package.

  His reaction had told Sue he was in no way ready to go along with Noelle’s silly one-shot, weekend affair idea. No. The man was hung up on Noelle. Very hung up. And he was just the type to bring her cousin’s heart back to life, as he’d obviously done with her libido.

  The realization made her whistle a little as she nibbled on her toast, idly staring toward the foot of the bed, trying to see her toes. It was impossible, of course, and had been since the sweet little fairy butterfly in her stomach had morphed into Jabba the Hutt somewhere around month six.

  No toes. All she could see was the mound of stomach beneath the pale pink sheet and the white cotton blanket.

  “Knock, knock,” a voice said one second before the door to her bedroom pushed in. “Look who’s here!”

  It was Randy, and one glimpse at the nervous smile on his face instantly put Sue on alert. Her husband’s voice had that high, nervous-sounding pitch that said his gaiety was fake. That could mean only one thing: he knew darn well Sue wasn’t going to be happy to see whoever was following him into her bedroom Thursday afternoon.

  Scary. Because given her vocal complaining about her boredom, her husband would have to figure any company would be good company. She almost held her breath, wondering if her mother was about to enter the room to tell Sue why the colors she’d picked out for the nursery were all wrong and she’d repainted it.

  “There’s our girl! And how’s my little grand-niece or nephew?” a boisterous voice said.

  Randy’s uncle Ralph strode over to the bed, his jowly face shaking and his bulbous nose glowing as red as one of the forty-eight Rudolphs lining the lawn in front of the Christmas Courthouse. The man rouged his nose, she just knew it, in keeping with his image as the jolliest guy in town. She supposed in his line of work—as a self-proclaimed dean of Santa Claus U, as the locals called it—he figured he needed the makeup. Personally, she thought it made him look like a ruddy street drunk rather than a jolly St. Nick. But who was she to judge.

  “Hello, Uncle Ralph,” she murmured, hiding a sigh.

  She wondered why Randy would have been nervous about his uncle dropping by, because the older man came around a lot. Every time he did, Sue made a point of mentioning Noelle and how fabulous she was doing, just to make sure everybody remembered that Sue’s first loyalty was to her cousin. Because Ralph was the father of Jeremy Taggert, Noelle’s faithless ex.

  If she wasn’t mistaken, the last time Ralph had dropped by had been a little over a week ago, just before Sue had had her bleeding scare and been taken in for an emergency doctor visit. Before her world had gone all screwy.

  That particular morning, Sue had been on the phone with Noelle during Ralph’s visit. She’d made sure to raise her voice when talking to her cousin about how well things were going at the women’s shelter, wanting Randy to know what a fabulous, generous woman his mealy-mouthed son had lost.

  She hadn’t been faking. Sue was genuinely amazed at the way Noelle had put her social services degree to good use after quitting the inn. Her open-heartedness in caring for the children in her care was an inspiration, and Noelle’s Give A Kid A Christmas program was one of the most worthy causes Sue had ever heard of.

  Which reminded her…she definitely needed to send her cousin a contribution. She’d promised to do so that very day, until her health scare had thrown everything up in the air.

  “We thought you could use a little company,” Ralph was saying. Sue tuned back in to the conversation at the word “we,” instantly going on alert. Glancing again at the door, she held her breath, p
raying it wasn’t Ralph’s wife, come to try to peddle the cheap house-decorating crap she sold from a catalog and her monthly at-home parties.

  But it was worse. Much worse. When she saw who walked into the room behind him, she knew why Randy had been nervous. Because the couple standing just inside the door was the real reason for Randy’s unease.

  Jeremy Taggert and his whiny wife stood there, obviously as unhappy as Sue was about this forced meeting. A quick glance confirmed their discomfort—Jeremy’s sneaky, cheating rat face was pale and pinched. The wife—Lydia, Linda, something like that—had both her arms clutched around one of her husband’s, as if afraid to let him leave her side.

  Sue almost smiled, liking that her reputation still preceded her. No, she hadn’t gotten into any fights in, oh, a good eight years or so…not since high school. But it was nice to think she could still put the fear of God into a whiny, man-stealing tramp like this one.

  She supposed the meeting was inevitable. Frankly, she considered it a miracle that she’d managed to avoid coming face-to-face with the couple in the past year, since Randy and Jeremy were cousins. Obviously, Uncle Ralph had decided that Sue’s inability to leave—or to throw a punch in Jeremy’s general direction—made it a good time to effect a reconciliation.

  For the sake of the baby, and Randy, she supposed she should let it go, be all adult and maternal and stuff. Turn the other cheek, live and let live, let bygones be bygones…yadda yadda yadda.

  Then she thought about the tears on her sweet cousin’s face, and the way Noelle had moved away from town rather than have to live here and be the object of gossip and laughter. And figured, screw it.

  So with a smile of pure malice she said, “Why, hello, Jeremy, how very funny to see you. After spending this past weekend with Noelle and her gorgeous, hot-stud boyfriend, I was wondering when you were going to show up here to find out every little bit of gossip you could.”