Meet Me Under the Mistletoe (Kinky Spurs 4)

Her heart squeezed, threatening to turn into mush. Okay, sure, she hadn’t been doing all this for someone to tell her that she didn’t suck. But she liked hearing his praise. “Now, don’t you go make me cry, Darryl Wilson. That’s not very Christmas-y at all.”

He slowly shook his head. “Wouldn’t dare think of it.”

“Besides, I’m doing this to right an already made wrong,” she pointed out. “Not the noblest of causes.”

He hesitated then nodded, like he couldn’t be swayed to believe otherwise. “A good cause, nonetheless.”

“Says the cop who dragged my drunk ass off a fountain,” she said, snort laughing.

His heated gaze scanned her lips before returning to her eyes again. That intense regard was something she remembered over the years. When Darryl looked at anything, he really looked, especially when that thing was a person. She’d never met anyone after him that seemed to give her so much attention. Maybe that’s what made Darryl a good cop. He cared deeply. He paid attention. He saw the little things others missed.

Whatever it was, she liked that about him. In a sea of feeling like no one understood her, and even sometimes her not understanding herself, there was Darryl. A very good man who thought she was good too, no matter what she’d done.

“You know,” he said, eventually breaking the silence. “I have seen people at their worst. I’ve seen people do unthinkable things. You might be trouble—that goes without saying—but you don’t have a bad bone in you.” His strength, his heat, it all engulfed her when he wrapped his arms around her tight. “Regardless that you’re doing this for a reason, you thought of it. Give yourself some credit, Penelope.”

Maybe she was being too hard on herself…maybe… “Okay, then maybe I will.” She smiled at him then set her gaze on the two women filling the boxes of cinnamon buns, cakes, pastries, and so much more.

People loved Christmas. The warmth of it. The magic. Penelope didn’t know why exactly, but she had a feeling this was one step closer to finding out.

Most people didn’t surprise Darryl. He had a knack for reading people, most times seeing right through them. Penelope surprised the hell out of him. Sure, over the years, he had wondered about the girl that captivated him intently during those five days at camp. She’d been so full of life, then. Unlike any girl he’d met before. And when he kissed her, he hadn’t regretted it. The kiss had felt right. But today, he saw a different side of Penelope, a softer side, a sweeter side. He liked that side, as much as he liked how she didn’t seem to take life too seriously.

Damn. He could use a little of that in his very routine world.

The Christmas breakfast had gone off without a hitch, and the two hours after they had returned from the bakery, he knew that not only was his first Christmas event a huge success, but Penelope had made it so. Behind the large table, he had finished cleaning out the crockpots after packaging up boxes of food for anyone that wanted to take it with them, since most people there filled up on the treats from the bakery. He finished packing up one slow cooker in a box, settling it next to the others, and then found Penelope hugging Al, a war veteran who had many rough times in his life. An odd warmth carried through Darryl watching the exchange. She’d grown into a fine woman. A good woman. Kind in ways that he began believing not many knew about her.

When Penelope waved a final goodbye to Al, she caught Darryl looking at her, and gave him that bright smile. She wore jeans and flat shoes and a bright red sweater that happened to hug her body in ways he couldn’t ignore. Matched with that Santa hat atop her head, Darryl couldn’t help but wonder what she’d look like naked wearing only that hat.

She finally reached him, and asked, “Do I pass at my first community service event, Officer Wilson?”

“With flying colors, Ms. Carter,” he said with a smile.

Her lips parted but then a soft voice interjected, “Oh, my dear, you are just the sweetest thing River Rock has ever seen.” Mrs. Evans, a retired kindergarten teacher, smiled at Penelope, sidling up to her. “Keep this to stay warm.” She wrapped a knitted scarf around Penelope’s neck, whose eyes suddenly widened. “And for that beautiful heart of yours.”

Penelope blinked rapidly, glancing from Darryl to Mrs. Evans. “Thank you, but honestly, this was nothing.”

“To you, maybe not, dear, but look at those smiles.” Mrs. Evan gestured at the crowd sitting at the tables, laughing and enjoying the baked goods. “The joy you brought them today is a very real and big thing.”

Penelope’s mouth opened then shut.

Darryl smiled, leaning against the table behind him and folding his arms. Being surprised looked good on her.

“Mrs. Evans hit the nail on the head with that statement,” Jason, the man who ran the homeless shelter across town, said. He offered his hand to Penelope. “What you did today, Penelope, was kind and generous, and I’m not sure I could say enough thank-yous to repay this.”

“No repayment needed,” she said, wringing her fingers together, obviously uncomfortable with the compliments.

Sad. Penelope was this bright light, exuding life, and he wondered how a woman like this wasn’t told everyday how incredible she was? Which, in turn, made him feel like the world’s biggest asshole. He’d done what maybe everyone in her life had done: expected that she would screw up in some epic way, and somehow her fuckup would make him look bad.

His gut told him that Penelope was greatly misunderstood. He’d been wrong to judge her. He intended to fix that too.

Darryl said his goodbyes to Mrs. Evans and Jason after Penelope did.

When they were alone again, Penelope turned to him. “Okay, so you weren’t kidding about how the townsfolk would be.” She gave an easy laugh, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “Good grief, it’s like I saved the town from aliens or something.”

“They’re just a kind bunch,” Darryl explained. “They like to acknowledge good people.” Though she had no idea what she started. “But trust me, you haven’t seen anything. Word hasn’t even hit the street yet.”

The color drained from her face. She sputtered something incoherent then said clearly, “Okay, remember when I said I’m not really big into the whole Christmas cheer thing?”

“Yeah.”