Chapter Seven

Back at the station, Justin hung the Santa suit in his locker. Then he started towel-drying his hair. He’d taken a shower to get rid of some of the dust from the old suit. O’Rourke came into the locker room and headed for his own locker.

“Hey, Santa. How’s it hanging?”

“Okay. We got a good haul today. Did you see all the toys?” Justin dropped the towel onto the floor, let his second towel fall from his waist, and started getting dressed in his street clothes.

“I volunteered for wrapping duty before I knew how many toys there would be,” said O’Rourke. “I’m going to be full of paper cuts.”

“Whiner.” Justin pulled on his favorite old ripped jeans, then reached for his ratty gray Red Sox T-shirt. “At least you don’t have to dress like an old fat guy to get them.”

“Yeah.” O’Rourke held up his phone. “Speaking of which—Danyr Jackson in the West precinct sent me video of how that’s working out for you.”

Justin frowned as the image of his and Lilly’s kiss played out on O’Rourke’s screen. His ears grew hot. “It was a mistletoe kiss is all.” As if that didn’t sound lame. His partner would never believe it.

O’Rourke pulled the phone back and looked down at it. “You keep telling yourself that, Weav, and maybe you’ll start to believe it.”

“It’s true,” Justin lied.

“Right. And I’m the tooth fairy.” Kevin shook his head.

“No, you’re not. Take it from me. I’m Santa, and I know the tooth fairy. You, my friend, are no tooth collector.” You’re the Easter Bunny. Justin peered into his locker. “Shoot. Lilly still has my jacket.”

“No, seriously, dude. Look at this. If she was only kissing you to appease those mouth breathers, she wouldn’t have kissed you like that.” O’Rourke shoved the phone in his face so that Justin couldn’t avoid looking at it. “She wants you, man.”

Justin peered at the small screen—if he didn’t, he knew that O’Rourke would follow him until he watched it. He didn’t want to; he felt stupid enough knowing he was dressed like Santa. He didn’t have to look at it, too.

But then he saw Lilly on the screen, stretching up on tiptoe to kiss him, her eyes closed like she was catching snowflakes. He didn’t remember—or hadn’t been aware—of how he’d slid both hands around her waist and pulled her tightly against him, or how she’d melted into him so perfectly.

If they’d been anyone else, he realized, he would have told them to get a room—it was so obvious that they needed some real private time. Oh my gosh. He lifted his gaze to his partner’s face, expecting to see O’Rourke leering at him.

Instead, he saw something he never expected. Understanding. Creepy. He blinked as his partner clapped him on the shoulder. “Son, you’ve got it bad. But so does she. How long are you going to allow this to go on?”

“But…you don’t…I can’t. I mean, it’s Lilly.” Justin’s lungs tightened. He couldn’t inhale. Or exhale. “Holy crap.” He wheezed and dropped down onto the bench between the rows of lockers.

“Yeah. It is. And you really like her. So why are you sitting here instead of going after her?” O’Rourke put his foot on the bench and leaned on his knee. “You’ve got the weekend off thanks to this cherry assignment I got you. Give yourself a present, Santa, and go after her.”

“I don’t—I can’t. Lilly deserves more than—”

O’Rourke rolled his eyes. “Dude, I didn’t say that you had to marry her. Just go talk to her. See where it leads. Know what I mean? Obviously, you both want it, whatever it is. So go get it!” He slid his foot down and straightened. “Before I tase your butt. Go. Get!”

Shoot. Justin stood and looked at his partner.

“Shoo.” O’Rourke waggled his fingers.

Justin hurried from the locker room. There were reasons he couldn’t be with Lilly, but they weren’t things he wanted to discuss with his partner or anyone. Especially Lilly.

…

After they got back to the station, Cisco started editing, and the producers sent her on her way before the storm got any worse. And it was true—the roads were getting slippery. Still, Lilly didn’t question the wisdom of driving to Justin’s. She had forgotten to give him back his jacket, and she was determined to return it.

Determined to get to the bottom of that kiss, you mean, the devil on her shoulder said.

Shut up, she told it. I’m making sure he’s got his coat for tomorrow. It’s cold out. He needs it. It’s part of his uniform.

He’s got the weekend off because of the Santa assignment. So he doesn’t need it.

What if it’s the only jacket he owns?

Oh, put on your big-girl panties, stop making excuses, and just find out, will you? The devil put her hands on her hips and glared at Lilly. You owe it to yourself. To him. Right? Go on, tell me I’m wrong.

“I don’t know,” she muttered. She needed to talk to someone besides herself. Lilly lifted her phone out of the cupholder to call Hannah.

She picked up after the first ring. “Lilly? You okay?”

She smiled. Justin and Hannah weren’t so very different. “I’m fine. I’m pulling down Justin’s street.”

“You’re driving down Justin’s street?” Hannah paused. “Wait. Why? You’re kidding, right? You do realize the roads are terrible?”

“I have to drop off his uniform coat.”

“They haven’t salted or even started to plow yet. I don’t think they were expecting to have to get the road crews going this early in the season,” Hannah worried. “I never should have shown you where his house was. Then you wouldn’t be driving there now. Besides, he can live without his coat. He’s got others.” Pause. “Wait. Why do you have his coat?”

Lilly laughed. “He made me wear it when he thought I might catch cold, and I forgot to give it back.” She hoped he was leaving work soon. If he didn’t get home within fifteen minutes or so, she’d leave. She didn’t relish the idea of sitting in a cold car, in the snow. “You don’t know when he’s getting home, do you?”

“He might pull a double. They might order him overtime because of the storm.” Hannah chuckled. “I can tell you where he keeps his key, though, and you can let yourself in to ride out the weather.”

“I can’t do that uninvited. It’s like breaking and entering!” Lilly turned the wheel to pull into Justin’s driveway. Her car fishtailed and almost slid into the retaining wall lining the lawn. She shrieked; her heart rose to her throat, and she sat there panting, trying to swallow it back into place.

“Um…are you all right?” Hannah asked after a moment.

“I almost hit the wall in Justin’s driveway.” Lilly had forgotten what it was like to drive in snow. Her little car had no traction or rear-wheel drive, and her tires were all wrong for icy surfaces.

“That settles it. He keeps his key in the garage, hanging up near his wood bench, behind a can of nails. It’s on a Bruins lanyard.” Hannah gave Lilly the alarm code to get the garage door open.

“I don’t know,” Lilly said. “It feels wrong to let myself in. Besides, that was just getting in his driveway—the roads aren’t that bad. I can get back to the hotel.” Maybe. It would take much longer than usual, but if she drove slowly…

“Yeah, right. In your eco-car hybrid with no-wheel drive. You stay put. Let yourself in, and make yourself at home. I’ll call him and let him know you’re there. He’ll agree with me. You know what a worrywart he is. He’d go ballistic if he knew you were driving on these roads in that car. Besides, it’s only Justin.”

That would have been true, except Justin wasn’t only Justin anymore. “Maybe to you he’s just Justin. But to me…” Lilly took another deep breath. The subject wasn’t making her adrenaline dissipate. “Hannah, things are different. He’s different.”

“Yeah, I know. I told you that. Dad, the war, his job—he’s had a lot to deal with, and he’s grumpy now.”

“Grumpy, yes, but more than that.”

“How so? And are you in the house yet?”

“I’m still in my car. I can’t—I need to ask you something.”

“What?”

Another deep breath. “Do you ever think Justin and I could be—more than friends?”

Now it was Hannah’s turn to take a deep breath. Lilly heard her sharp inhale. And then she squealed. Lilly held the phone from her ear. “Hannah?”

“You mean, like, a couple? You want to hook up with my brother?”

“Well, not hook up exactly, but…well. Yes.”

Hannah squealed again. This time Lilly was ready and had the phone held at a distance. She put it on speaker, just in case it happened again. “That would be amazing!”

“I’m not so sure,” Lilly said. “It could be a mistake.”

“How?” Hannah asked.

“Because what if it didn’t work out between us? Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Pfft. As if. You guys would be perfect together!”

“You’re only saying that because you want us together,” Lilly realized.

“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be awesome? We’re like sisters. If you guys got together, we’d be actual sisters!”

So much like that long-ago conversation. Except… “I didn’t say we’d be getting married or anything. I just asked what you think about it.”

“Oh.” Hannah sounded disappointed. “I think it would be awesome if you did get married. But I guess you guys need to date or something first.”

“It would help, yes.” Lilly couldn’t help but smile. Hannah was so excited. More excited than Justin, that was for sure. He hadn’t even wanted to kiss her—he’d had to be goaded into it. Maybe this whole thing was stupid. A misconception on her part. After all, she was sure she wanted him more than he wanted her, and didn’t that speak volumes? “Anyhow, you’ll see us kissing on television.”

“What?” Hannah squealed again.

“Just for the mistletoe. For the piece.”

“Oh.” Hannah sighed. “Okay.”

“I wanted to warn you ahead of time, you know? Maybe you could warn your Mom, too?”

“Sure.” There was a pause. “So…?”

“So, what?”

“Well? Were there any sparks? Anything?”

Sparks? The only ones Lilly was sure of were the ones she’d felt. As for Justin… “You’ll have to ask him.”

Hannah made a disgusted noise. “Like he’d tell me anything.” Then she squeaked. “Ooh! But now you’re going to be alone in his house. With him. In the snow. How romantic.”

“Hannah, this is real life, not a Hallmark movie. We’re not going to fall in love in front of a roaring fire or anything—”

“Of course not. He doesn’t have a fireplace. The radiator, maybe. I’m going to call him right now and make sure he gets home quick.” Hannah disconnected, leaving Lilly holding a silent phone.

Uh-oh. She’d let a very persistent genie out of the bottle. Lilly hoped whatever Hannah told Justin wasn’t going to blow up in her face. Or worse, her heart.

Lilly got out of her car. As odd as it felt to have Hannah order her to let herself into Justin’s, it also felt pretty awesome. It had been years since anyone had cared about her safety like that. So often, she felt alone in the world—wherever she was in the world—and knowing that she was important to someone was incredible. Heartwarming, even.

Her parents treated her like an obligation and a responsibility, but that was all. They were hands-off parents, and that’s why her relationship with Hannah and her mom was so important to her. To them, she wasn’t an obligation, but someone they loved and cared about.

She found the key and let herself in.

Her first impression upon entering Justin’s house was that it was neat. There was no clutter, no empty pizza boxes on the tabletops or empty beer bottles on the floors. Everything was clean, dust-free, and…

Vintage old person.

She dropped his jacket onto the couch and kicked off her snowy shoes, then got her phone out of her purse and called Hannah back.

“Hey, guess where I am right now?”

“Chez Justin! I just called him—after he got done freaking out about you driving anywhere but home in this weather, he told me to tell you to stay put and not go anywhere. Or else.”

“That sounds ominous. Or else what?”

“He’ll hitch the reindeer to the sleigh and come after you, I guess.” Hannah laughed. “I don’t know. He said to make yourself comfortable—like I did—and that he’d be home in a bit. Oh, and he said not to let anyone but him in.”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know.” Hannah sighed. “He’s such a weirdo. Anyhow, I’m curious about your impressions of my brother’s house. What do you think?”

Lilly looked around the living room. It was like she’d been dropped into an elderly widow’s home, not a twenty-seven-year-old’s bachelor pad. “Okay. What’s with the crocheted doilies? And”—she reached out and poked, just to be sure—“the plastic flowers?”

“Yeah. That was our grandmother’s house.” Hannah laughed. “I keep telling him he needs to update, but he says he’s not home enough to bother with it. Check out the kitchen. Go on. I can’t wait to hear what you think.”

Lilly made her way to the kitchen in the back of the house, searching for the light switch. She found it and once she turned it on, kind of wished she hadn’t. “Oh dear God. The cupboards, the floor, the—ugh! It’s so pink! There’s pink tile! There’s a pink stove! And fridge! Oh my gosh…I can’t even…” She spun on her heel to try to take it all in. “And pink…everything. Did Mamie Eisenhower decorate this house?”

“Sort of.” Hannah giggled. “It was the style of the era, you know?”

After the initial shock, however…it was kind of charming. “Circa 1956. Wait. Let me put on my pearls and my heels. And my apron.”

“Get out the martini shaker, June Cleaver. Ward’s on his way home.”

“No kidding.” Lilly looked at the white Formica countertop with threads of pink running through it; it was still in good shape despite its age. “Oh my gosh. The canisters!”

“Yes, those were Gram’s. Aren’t they a hoot?”

“Flour, sugar, tea, coffee…and a bread box! I haven’t seen a bread box since…well…never.”

“In pink, of course.”

“Of course.” Lilly lifted the chrome covers off each canister to peer inside. “Think the stuff in them has been there since 1956?”

“No. He uses them. I mean, when he cooks. I can assure you that the stuff in them has been placed there during the past five years, at any rate. When during those years is another story.”

“Hmm.” Lilly smiled. She had an idea; she moved to the fridge to peer inside. “Oh good. He’s got eggs. And butter!”

“Well, hooray. Are you going to make yourself an omelet?”

“Nope. Something better.” Lilly grinned. “I’m making him some cookies.”

“And you thought you wouldn’t need your high heels and pearls.”

…

Justin shoveled his way to the back door. When he opened it, stomping snow from his boots, he was surprised to see Lilly standing next to the stove. Even more, he was surprised by the fragrant aroma of vanilla, sugar, and melted butter. The light over the kitchen sink was on, and the room glowed cheerfully and warmly against the cold, dark, snowy night. It was like he’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone.

Only in color, not black and white.

Mostly pink.

He wondered if he should step back outside before he got sucked into the crazy.

“Hi, Justin!” Lilly turned to face him. She had an apron tied around her waist, and her shiny coppery hair was pulled back into a messy bun. There was flour on her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re home,” Lilly said. “Shut the door. You’re letting out all the heat.”

Justin realized it was too late. He’d entered the Zone as soon as he’d opened the door. There was no help for it now. “Hey. What’s going on?” He closed the door behind him and toed his boots off onto the mat.

“I’m making cookies. I didn’t have time or the ingredients to make your favorites, but I made the second best. Butter drops. The first batch is almost done. Go get changed or whatever you do after work, and I’ll bring them to you when they’re ready.” She smiled at him, and it was like getting punched in the gut. His legs grew weak; his breath caught in his throat.

Lilly was oblivious. She paused and bit her lip thoughtfully. “I don’t know what it is about this kitchen, Justin. I just wanted to cook in it. It’s so…retro.” She patted the apron at her waist. “I found this in the closet. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Yeah. I mean…no.” He shifted from foot to foot—predictably, the sight of her working her full lower lip with her straight white teeth had sent a zing of desire through him.

The thought occurred to him that he and Lilly were alone—truly alone—for the first time. Ever. It wasn’t like when they were kids, with adults around somewhere, or his sister ever present. There were no cameras running this time. No one was watching.

It was just…them.

Lilly turned back to the stove, where she readied another batch of cookies for the oven. “Anyhow, go get comfortable.”

In the movies, that always meant something different from what she obviously meant right now.

He thought of O’Rourke’s words. She wants you. Give yourself a present.

Meanwhile, Lilly chatted on. “I went through your cupboards to see what I could scrounge up for dinner. You need to shop. I would have made something better than canned soup, if I could find anything else. If it weren’t snowing, I’d order pizza, but I don’t feel right making some poor delivery person drive in this. So you have a choice. Chicken noodle or lentil. Both of them are enh, but personally, I’d go with the chicken noodle. I can add some of the chicken breasts you’ve got in the freezer to beef it up.” She paused in thought, then tossed her head. “Or chicken it up.”

She could serve him a bowl of boiling water and he’d be fine with it. Food was the last thing on his mind right now. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll get it started then. Why are you still standing here? Go, Justin. Shoo.” She bent to peer into the cupboard for a pot, leaving Justin to stare at her attractively and distractively heart-shaped behind.

He shook himself. Was this happening? Lilly? In his house, taking over his kitchen, and talking a blue streak? Sure, he’d expected her to be in his house, but sitting quietly and politely on the couch or something. Maybe watching television. Isn’t that what you did when someone told you to make yourself at home? Sit there until they returned?

Of course, then again—this was Lilly. He should have expected she’d do the unexpected. Justin shook his head. “I took a shower at the station. Had to wash off all the ho ho ho.” He grimaced. Better get this conversation over with as soon as possible, so if she wanted to run off screaming into the night she could do it while the roads were still passable. Not that he wanted her to drive. He’d drive her home, in his 4x4. “Lilly…could you just stop for minute?”

“Stop? Stop what?” She stood with a pan in her hand. “Cooking?”

“Talking. Cooking. Baking. Everything.”

“Okay.” She stilled. “Can I breathe?”

He sighed and moved toward her, then lifted the pan from her hand and set it on the counter. “We need to talk.”

She peered up at him. “Now that I’m here, I—I don’t want to talk.”

“Me either,” Justin realized aloud.

Now that she was still and quiet, and they were alone—finally—he didn’t know where to start or what to say. Was it even important to express what her leaving did to him all those years ago? Did it matter anymore? She was here now, and things were even more confusing. Plus, there was that kiss. That amazing kiss. They needed to discuss that, to start.

Was O’Rourke right? Justin frowned. He didn’t need to ask. He knew, deep down, that Lilly wanted him as much as he wanted her. His instincts knew it from her body language alone.

But he wanted things to stay the way they were, didn’t he?

He’d have to talk about that night; he’d never talked to anyone about it, and he wasn’t ready to. Not yet. If ever. Wasn’t it easier just to let things be the way they were?

Again, the thought occurred to him: we’re all alone. And again, as she bit her lip in that sexy, sensuous way of hers, his stomach flipped. She stared up at him, her big green eyes wide.

“Lilly.” He reached for her, not wanting to, but unable to stop himself. She leaned into him.

The timer dinged.

They both jumped. Lilly spun around and pulled on one of the ghastly pink oven mitts he didn’t even realize he had. “It’s cookie time!” She bent to pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, her rear end level with his hips. Justin groaned at the cascade of fantasies rushing through his mind. Thank God she stayed bent over in front of him only for a moment before coming up with a sheet of perfectly browned cookies; she dropped it onto a cooling rack. “There! One batch done. Now for the next.”

“Great. I’ll be in the living room.” Justin turned and left the room, kicking himself the whole way.