Meet Me Under the Mistletoe (Kinky Spurs 4)

She’d never known anyone who escaped a bad situation just to prove he could. This guy was born from some other material than all the people she’d ever met before. “You are a strange breed of human,” she told him.

His brows furrowed. “In what way?”

“You have all sorts of integrity, and you share personal shit really easily.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, that was one of the good things to happen from my divorce. I don’t keep stuff inside so much. It is what it is. You asked. I answered.”

“That’s probably the cop in you, you know, all honest and brave,” she said with a soft laugh.

“Probably.” He winked.

She drew in a long, deep breath, embracing the cold air sliding through her lungs. “Most people I meet are like me.”

“Wild?” he offered.

She laughed. “A little untamed, sure.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Well, this Christmas, let’s hope skating on a fountain is as wild as you get, sugar.”

An odd sense of warmth slid through her that had nothing to do with the hot cup of hot chocolate she held. “Sugar, that’s a new one. You call every girl that?”

“Just you.” He winced, a blush tinging his cheek.

Interesting. She paused to cock her head. “Just me, huh? Why is that?”

A slow shiver slid over her when he leaned in close and inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut. “You smell like my mother’s Christmas sugar cookies.” His eyes reopened, and he gave her a look so warm that on his tough exterior, it seemed surprising. “It’s a smell that brings back good memories for m

e.”

A little rattled by his nearness, and his truth, she cleared her throat. “Your mom doesn’t bake cookies anymore?”

He shook his head, glancing at the trees now. “My mom passed away a few years back from a heart attack.”

His expression was closed off, a mask of strength for sure, and yet there was something tender there, too. “God, that’s awful, Darryl. I’m sorry. Maisie never told me.”

“I was really sorry for a long time too.” He turned to her, the light from the porch highlighting the hard masculine lines of his jaw. “Christmas is a hard time for my sister, Ashley, because our mom died on Christmas Eve.”

Penelope didn’t know what to say, so she gently asked, “Are you close with your sister?”

“Very close. She calls every few days and texts the days she doesn’t call.”

“Lucky you,” Penelope said, letting a little honesty out herself. “I always wanted a sister. Well, like a real sister, not a stepsister I never see who thinks I’m her nemesis.”

He smiled. “Life’s a bitch like that, really. You never do get the shit you want, do you?”

“Sure, you do,” she countered. “You just have to go and grab what you want by the balls until it’s yours.”

The strands of his hair covered in fallen snow fell over his brow. “Is that what you do in life, Penelope? Grab things by the balls?”

She shrugged. “I mean, you could go with the whole ‘lick it’ and then it becomes yours, if you like.”

“Now that I can get on board with.”

The heat in his voice made the chill in the air all but vanish, and instinctually she found herself turning to him, just like she had at summer camp. For those five days, he had been the guy she couldn’t stop looking at, flirting with, giggling over. But she wasn’t a kid anymore, and neither was he. Darryl’s gaze was on hers, all warmth and strength. Things she simply was not used to. She dated surfers, wild adventurers like herself. Not a small-town cop who lived life on the straight and narrow, and never left home. Especially a cop who had taken her in because she’d been a drunken idiot last night.

And yet…and yet, there was a pull there. An impulse for her to jump on this adventure. She’d never been the type who didn’t listen to that voice in her head, and she wasn’t about to stop now. That voice had led her up and down the West Coast and had given her unforgettable memories. That voice allowed her to find a place in this world when she didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. That voice had led her to River Rock this Christmas.

“Penelope,” Darryl said softly, almost a warning.