Yuki woke up on Christmas morning, cocooned in soft cotton and pillows, grasping for the remains of a dissolving dream—then realized that she was alone.
Brady hadn’t come home.
Before she had a chance to get crazy-worried or mad, she heard the shower running in the bathroom. Good.
Yuki threw on a robe and made a dash for the kitchen, and by the time Brady came through the doorway, there was a gift on his plate, eggs by the stove ready for scrambling, and a smile on her face as she sat in her seat at the table. Still no tree.
Brady grabbed her up out of her chair and dipped her into a swooping romance-novel kiss.
“Hey,” she said breathlessly.
He kissed her again.
This time she took in that he was fully dressed and he was apparently kissing her good-bye.
“Were you working all night?” she asked.
“I slept right next to you, darlin’. You were out cold.”
“I don’t even remember falling asleep. Hey, how about some hot breakfast?”
“I only have time for coffee. Maybe toast.”
“Sit down,” Yuki said. “I’ll give you coffee, toast, and the thirty-second headline news of what happened in court yesterday. You should feel free to give me thirty seconds of your news, too.”
Her big, blond, handsome man grinned and said, “I love you, darlin’. Talk to me. But first…”
He took the little package off his plate and shook it.
Yuki said, “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”
She watched him open the box and take out her gift: a gold tie clip, a little grand for work, but she loved it. He turned it around and a beam of sunlight hit it.
“I love this, Yuki. What a major-league tie bob.”
He thanked her and fixed it to his tie. She expected him to tell her that he hadn’t had time to get her anything but he’d make it up to her. But he said, “I’m taking tonight off, no matter what. I booked us a room on the top floor of the Stanhope. How does that sound?”
Yuki shouted, “Woweeee,” and threw herself at Brady, who hugged her, kissed her to pieces, and said, “I’ll call you later.”
Wearing his gold tie clip but without having had eggs, toast, or coffee or hearing about Eduardo Varela, Lieutenant Jackson Brady was gone.