Chapter Two

Almost before he knew he was walking, Justin made his way around the rear of the car to the passenger side and took Lilly by the arm. Her bare arm. Stupid elf costume, doesn’t even cover a person in cold weather. He pushed that thought aside—whether or not Lilly was cold was none of his concern. Not anymore. He’d stopped worrying about her when she left for boarding school days after his dad’s funeral.

Or at least I tried to stop worrying, the traitorous thought in the back of his head reminded him. Shut up, he told himself. Lilly Maddox was Hannah’s friend, but as far as he was concerned, she was nothing to him now. Nothing but a memory, and a confusing one at that. “You can’t ride with me,” he muttered.

Lilly’s green eyes sparked, and his stomach flip-flopped. When they were younger, he loved riling her up, just to watch. Oh, that fiery temper.

Plus, when she began to chatter, she reminded him of an angry squirrel flicking its tail.

She lifted her manicured finger and waved it in his face.

Justin fought a smile.

“What’s your problem, Justin? My producer cleared it with your lieutenant, and nothing—nothing, not even you—is going to stop me from riding in this car all week.”

Chatter, chatter. He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. It would only rile her more, and that wasn’t a game he should play anymore. “We’ll see about that.”

Beside them, O’Rourke cleared his throat. “Uh, guys?”

“Look, Justin. I need this assignment, and I will have it!” She stamped a sparkly stiletto.

Flick, flick. Just like a squirrel’s tail. He bit his lower lip to keep it from curving out of control. He’d missed Lilly. He’d never forgive her for the way she seemingly abandoned his family when they needed her the most, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss her fire and her…Lilly-ness.

Not that he’d realized that when he was seventeen. He’d just known that he could get her mad, like how O’Rourke delighted in getting him riled—and he enjoyed doing the same thing to his closest friend. It was what guys did when they liked someone and felt comfortable with them. But I don’t. Not anymore. Not with Lilly.

So what was he doing, and why did he care? He tightened his jaw and put on his cop face. It fell into place like a mask. “Nonnegotiable.”

“Guys, the parade’s starting,” O’Rourke said.

Lilly flipped her hair over her shoulder in a shining red-gold wave.

A sweet waft of peppermint shampoo or perfume or something floated his way.

“You’re not my boss.”

She did not say that. Justin’s resolve strengthened. Now it was beyond personal. “On this ride, I am. I’m the boss. This is my car—”

“Guys!”

“It’s a sleigh.”

“It’s a car. And I’m the driver.” He stared into her snapping eyes.

“It’s my piece, and you’re my subject.” She didn’t look away.

Flick, flick, went her imagined tail.

The fire truck behind them blasted its air horn; in front of them, Justin’s fellow officers started saying, “Let’s go!”

“Sorry! I’m sorry. I had to park the van.” A cameraman jostled up behind Kevin, the camera already on his shoulder. “I hope you guys aren’t waiting for me. Hey, dude. You must be Cop Kringle. I’m Cisco.” He held out his hand.

Justin frowned. There was no time to resolve this issue. But he’d talk to Hanley as soon as the parade was over.

If he couldn’t scare Lilly out of the car, at least he could ignore her—and that’s what he’d do. He dropped his stare and turned to meet Cisco.

…

Lilly slid into the car and settled into the passenger seat, trying hard not to let Justin know how much he’d shaken her. Officer O’Rourke ducked his head in. “Don’t let him rattle you. He’s just grouchy. He hates Christmas. That’s why I got him hooked up with this assignment. I just didn’t know he’d blast into you like that—if he gets too annoying, let me know. I’ll set him straight.” A frown almost but not quite marred his movie-star-perfect face.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m not rattled,” she said. “I can handle Justin Weaver.” She buckled herself in.

Officer O’Rourke’s blue eyes twinkled merrily. “Good. Let him have it. He deserves it—whatever it is.” He winked.

Justin climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door so hard the car rocked. “Quit flirting, shut the door, and get out of the way, O’Rourke. We’re moving.”

“Ha.” His partner rolled his eyes and patted Lilly on the shoulder. “Have fun with Scrooge, little elf.” Officer O’Rourke straightened and closed the door.

Justin said something rude under his breath.

Lilly ignored him and turned to look at Cisco; he’d climbed into the back seat while Justin and his partner ran through their repartee. She had to admit, the two police officers were a force all their own. If she hadn’t already known Justin, she would have been tongue-tied by the attractive hero duo. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. But it was something she’d play up for viewers. Her intent was to put all of the police department in the best light possible, and with two good-looking guys like O’Rourke and Justin, it would be much easier. More women than men watched fluff pieces like this one, and what red-blooded female—and some males, too—wouldn’t enjoy two handsome men in uniform?

But she wanted this piece to be more than fluff. “So—we know how this is going to go, right? We need to interview Cop Kringle at some point tonight. Should we do it from the car or outside somewhere?”

“Outside would probably be better,” Cisco offered. “It’s hard to shoot through the cage.”

“True.” Lilly looked over at Justin. “Where’s your hat? And your beard?”

“Here,” Cisco said, and thrust them through the small slot between the opened cage panels.

Justin curled his lip, wrinkled his nose, and exhaled a clearly exasperated sigh of disgust. But he took them and put them on. The white wig attached to the hat tumbled over his shoulders, and the beard covered most of his face so that only his nose and eyes were visible. Lilly frowned. That didn’t look safe. “Can you see through that? We’re not going to crash, are we?”

His only response was a sneeze. Acrylic floss beard fluttered over his mouth.

The radio squawked with some unintelligible chatter. Justin lifted the mike and spoke into it. “Ten-four on the music.”

He sighed again, leaned forward, and shoved a waiting CD into the slot in the dashboard, fiddling with a few knobs on the console. Lilly heard the intro followed by the frantic screech of a washed-up pop star’s “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” suddenly blaring through the car’s PA system.

“Ho”—mumble—“ho, let’s go,” Justin muttered, and put the car into gear. Red, green and white LED lights attached to the frame begin to blink in sync to the music. He muttered something to himself.

They slowly followed behind the cops walking in front of the car, and she watched out the window as the parade moved out from behind the high school to the front, and then out of the lot, a long, organized snake of Christmas cheer. There were marching bands, gymnasts, area high school cheerleaders, cars, motorcycles, mopeds covered with LED lights, and lots of floats, representing different businesses and organizations, and even the mayor.

The mayor’s float had a big gingerbread house on it, with a Re-elect Liu sign on the fake-snow-covered fake lawn. Mrs. Claus waved from a golden throne on the Teacher’s Union float and threw lollipops or something the kids scrambled to catch into the crowd. Cupcakes danced awkwardly on the Sandi’s Sweet Shoppe float, followed by the Punkin Patch Day Care flatbed, where tiny reindeer sat on a cottony floor with companion adults who also wore antlers. And there were so many more.

Lilly smiled. “I’m glad I don’t have to judge the Christmas float competition. I’m not sure I could pick one,” she said, and turned to Cisco. “Let’s start filming. Maybe we can get some audio even if the footage in here isn’t great. Maybe we can use it for voice-over.”

“Okay. Go.” He started the camera.

She looked at Justin. “So this is your first Christmas as Cop Kringle. What are your goals?”

He turned his head to peer at her through hair and beard. “To get this over with.”

Lilly shook her head. “Nice try. You’re picking up and distributing toys for kids. That’s got to feel good, knowing you’re bringing some Christmas cheer to a needy child?”

He looked back out the windshield. “Material stuff isn’t Christmas cheer. I’m sure there are a lot of kids who need more than some donated toys.”

Oh boy. She really had her job cut out for her. The question was—should she continue to try to pry answers out of a reluctant subject, or clear the air with Justin first?

Her second option was probably the lesser of two miserable tasks. She peered at Cisco through the cage. “Do you think you could get some footage without us for a while?”

“Sure thing.” Her cameraman reached for the door handle that wasn’t there. “If you’ll let me out.”

“Oh! You don’t have handles back there. Santa’s sleigh is a jail on wheels.” She snorted a laugh, then said, “Justin, could you please stop for a moment so I can let Cisco out?”

Justin shook his head.

Lilly bit her lip. When she was a kid, she wouldn’t have listened to him. So—status quo. “All right then. I’ll just let him out.” She cracked the door open.

Justin slammed on the brakes. “Lilly! I said—”

“I know what you said.” She jumped out and opened Cisco’s door.

Her cameraman climbed out, and as he readied his camera on his shoulder, he said, “Are you sure baiting him like that was a good idea? He could pitch us out, and then we’d be screwed.”

“All I know is, I’m not backing down. This is my piece and it’s my job. I’m not going to win it from the back of a squad car.”

Cisco shook his head. “Whatever you say, chica. I don’t know what Santa’s beef with you is, but you’d better talk to the dude before the night is over. Otherwise, this is not going to go down good.”

Lilly nodded with a sinking heart. Her cameraman was right. “I know. Get going.”

He moved off. She took a deep breath of cold air, waved at the parade-goers with a cheery, elf-y smile, then climbed back into the car and closed the door. It thunked heavy and solid. Here we go. She turned to peer at Justin, but behind the beard she couldn’t see a thing; she could only imagine his face.

Except…she imagined the young Justin that she’d known so well, not this handsome, formidable stranger. Not so scary or stony. How would she have dealt with him then?

She would have teased him. “You’re a real poop head.” His beard moved—she figured he was clenching his teeth or something; his hands were tightening on the steering wheel. She could see his knuckles whitening. “Listen, I get that you’re a control freak now. I mean, you always were bossy but—”

He pulled the beard from his face; it dangled under his chin. “I’m trying—God help me—to keep you safe. Believe it or not.” His eyes appeared darker than ever under the white brim of the hat.

Lilly reminded herself to pay attention to his words, not his eyes. “Safe from what? This is a parade!”

“No. I mean—the whole week. I’d rather we don’t do this.”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought we resolved this already. Yes, we’re doing it. And you can bet your beard on it.”

Justin snorted. “You can have it.”

Cisco was right; she needed to talk to him about more than just this riding with him. Something was really wrong between them. Better now than never, she supposed. Here, they were guaranteed privacy to talk, even as they had to wave to children. She took a deep breath. “Okay, Claus, spill. What’s your problem?”

“I’m not the one with the problem. And don’t call me ‘Claus.’” Justin stared through the windshield.

“I will call you ‘Claus.’ And what do you mean, you’re not the one with the problem? You’re the one freaking out here.”

“I’m not freaking out. I’m doing my job.”

“Well, so am I. But you don’t appear to want me to. So…what’s going on?”

“You.” He narrowed his eyes. “I could deal with anyone else riding with me, any elf, journalist, whatever. But you? No.”

Just as she’d suspected. “Why?”

“Because,” he said, “I don’t trust you.”

Lilly frowned. “You don’t trust me?”

“That’s what I said. I don’t think I can trust you.”

“But why? What have I ever done to you?” She couldn’t fathom it.

He growled a laugh. “Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done, and bottom line—I don’t trust you.”

“Justin, please. What’s going on?”

He peered at her through the beard and hair. “Seriously. I’m surprised Hannah even talks to you anymore.”

“What?” Lilly frowned. “Of course she does. We’re friends!”

“She forgives too easily.” He paused, then looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I think you’re someone who bails as soon as the going gets tough.”

“Bails?” It didn’t even make sense. “Bails on what? What’s tough? What was tough?”

“As if you don’t know.” He shifted in his seat and slowed the car as the floats ahead turned the corner onto Main Street. The crowds grew thick on the sidewalk. Children jumped up and down on the curbs or waved from the adult shoulders on which they were perched.

Lilly lifted her hand and followed suit, waving her hand à la royal family. Any other time, she would have giggled about it, but right now… “I don’t know.”

Justin huffed; acrylic floss fluttered in front of his face. “When my…when Dad died, you disappeared. Right after the funeral. When I—when Hannah—needed you the most. You were gone.”

“My parents sent me to boarding school! How was that my fault?” She almost stopped waving, but then a curly-haired child on the sidewalk pointed at the car, reminding her that she had an elf duty to perform—and that took priority over anything going on inside the car. “I didn’t want to go. I told them I wanted to stay. I begged them. But I was sixteen, and there was nothing I could do.” Lilly had locked herself in her room and threatened to stay there forever. But hunger—and a hired handyman with a screwdriver—had eventually made her come out.

She turned to Justin. “They told me I was too involved with your family, that what happened to your father was distracting me from what was important.”

“What was important? School was more important to you than my family? Your best friend? She called you her sister. I think you could have fought harder to stay, is all.”

“School was more important to my parents, but not to me. Never to me.” She frowned. “Didn’t you ever talk to Hannah about this? She’s talking to me. She’s not holding my parents’ actions over my head. So why are you?”

…

Good question. Justin scratched at his chin through the beard. Maybe he was being too hard on Lilly. They had been just kids. And it did seem silly now that he said it out loud. He’d grown up that night—he’d actually felt himself go from boy to man in an instant. Like putting on a new set of clothes, or a new skin. One moment, he’d been your average seventeen-year-old, and then, he was the man of the family, making decisions no kid should have to even think about. His mom had been devastated, for more reasons than he would discuss with Lilly. His little sister had fallen apart. Both of them had needed him strong, holding them up, keeping them going through the days leading up to his father’s funeral and beyond.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I guess because you were there, helping me help them. And then you were gone, and you didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I couldn’t! They packed up my stuff, put me on a train, and the next thing I knew I was at Miss Tabor-Frenchy’s Academy for Girls, the most exclusive prep school my parents could find.” Lilly made a distinctly unladylike sound. “It was like prison with plaid skirts and field hockey.”

“You could have called. Or written. Or something.” Justin was surprised how whiny he sounded. But it had hurt to have Lilly abandon him that way. She’d been like family, most certainly a friend. Someone he loved. Had loved. Whatever.

“They didn’t allow letters or calls home for new students. I needed to adjust, they said. Any attempts to communicate with the outside world were quashed.” She shook her head. “Believe me, I tried. In fact, I tried to escape. But that didn’t work out as planned, and after that I was on lockdown.” Her eyes filled with tears, and her posture was imploring. Her body language told him she was telling the truth. But still…

A thought occurred to him. “But what about later? You said new students couldn’t contact anyone. What about your junior or senior year? Plus, you can’t tell me you stayed there all year long. So—”

Lilly reached out and touched his arm; the warmth of her hand burned through the polyester and velveteen like a brand. “I got in touch with Hannah. She was angry and hurt, just like you. But she got over it. Unlike you.” She snorted again. “By the time I got home that summer, we reconnected. And you—you were at basic training. When you came home before you went to Afghanistan, I was in Germany. I could have written to you, but…why? I was just Hannah’s friend. I didn’t even think you cared, to be honest. I mean, we were friendly, but it’s not like you and I were friends.”

When she put it that way, he understood. They’d been friendly, but they’d never hung out together alone or even felt compelled to; the fact of the matter was, she’d been there in his house and he’d been there, too. Friendship by exposure, not by choice. He nodded. But then, “Germany? What were you doing in Germany?”

“When my parents offered to send me to a three-month-long riding camp in Germany that summer, of course I said I’d do that. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel horrible about not seeing you.”

“Riding camp?” Justin lifted an eyebrow. “Germany?”

Lilly shrugged. “Dressage. You know, horses.” She mimicked holding reins and rocked on the seat. “It’s an Olympic event.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand at him dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. What you need to know is that my parents solve a problem by throwing money at it. I was a problem. They paid me off, I’ll admit it. As soon as the summer was over, I was back at the plaid prison. But that doesn’t mean I forgot about Hannah—or you. Or your mom. When the opportunity came up to work here, I jumped at it. I called Hannah as soon as my plane landed. She picked me up at the airport. We cried, we hugged, we picked up like nothing had gone on between us, and now we’re friends again like no time had passed. Can’t we be friends again, too?” Lilly’s pretty green eyes met his.

Justin’s heart stuttered in his chest. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

She shook her head. “Me, either. You know, it’s been ten years. I’ve been an overseas correspondent, I’ve seen things, I’ve been in situations. But don’t worry about protecting me, Justin. I know how to protect myself.” She put her hand on his arm. “Please. Be my friend again.”

The thought occurred to Justin that besides protecting Lilly, he’d need to protect himself. In only twenty minutes—after a ten-year absence—she was already wrapping him around her finger. Worse, they weren’t kids anymore. She was giving him heart palpations when she fluttered her eyelashes, just like she did when he was a teenager. He wondered if they’d be just friends ever again.

In typical Lilly fashion, she didn’t give him much time to wonder. Cisco appeared beside the passenger door, and she hopped out of the car in a peal of bells and a waft of peppermint.

He watched her go off with Cisco in tow. Justin stared through the windshield at her, able to study her for the first time, unobserved.

Despite her sparkly heels, she moved quickly. It was those long, lean legs. Those perfect legs… Cisco raced to keep up with her.

Typical Lilly. On the go and in trouble, either causing it or finding it, always the one to rush in headlong, never stopping herself from doing whatever crossed her mind without a thought of the consequences. He remembered his pet name for her: Maddox the Menace.

Ten years later, she was still a menace.

She must have been a good correspondent, but the thought of her in bad—dangerous—situations made his breath catch and his heart pound with the familiar panic of post-traumatic stress. He always flashed back to that one simple mission, and the realization that all it took was one unexpected event to turn everything sideways and cause people to get hurt. He couldn’t allow that to happen again. O’Rourke he could trust to take care of himself; he knew how to assess a situation and how to react. But Lilly? Justin knew for sure that she was the type who went after the story but didn’t think about the situation.

Even things like hopping out into a crowd of parade watchers, while dressed in high heels and a flimsy, figure-hugging elf suit. Sure, she was talking to little kids and moms, but young men and dads were staring at her. He could practically read their thoughts, and none of them were good.

The thought occurred to Justin that he’d taken an oath to protect and to serve, and that meant he had a right to assume responsibility for Lilly no matter how much she protested. Right now, she was in his jurisdiction. He shoved the car into park, grabbed his coat from the back seat, got out, and hurried to Lilly’s side. “Here!” He thrust the coat at her, daring her not to take it. “It’s cold. You’ll freeze in that getup.”

“Oh.” She looked down at the coat, then up at him. “It’s part of your uniform. I can’t wear that.”

I knew she’d refuse it. “Right now, you’re part of my team, so I say it’s okay.” He pushed it at her again. “Take it.” He glared at the males in the crowd. They blinked back at him.

Maybe they weren’t as evil-intended as he’d imagined—after all, they were mostly teens with their parents and friends, or dads pushing toddlers in strollers and carrying babies in bags across their chests—but still. She was all va-va-voom in her sexy elf suit, not at all suitable for children. “I don’t want you to catch cold.”

Lilly smiled up at him. “Thanks. Still taking care of me.”

Always. He felt himself flush. “Whatever.” Justin hurried back to the car. Unwilling to climb in—yet—he watched her over the roof of the vehicle as she talked to people, her smile flashing and her red curls bobbing along with the bells on her hat. Lilly had always been a charmer; this was the perfect work for her.

Already, people were ignoring the mayor to focus on Lilly.

He couldn’t blame them; she was hard not to notice.

He slid behind the wheel, then bent to peer through the windshield to watch her work the crowd. Her hair shone like fire, but her smile was brighter. People lit up around her, laughing and smiling. She’d always had that gift of drawing people to her, moths to her flame.

Justin would not be a moth.

Lilly might have left because of her parents and teenage awkwardness, but still he only half forgave her for disappearing when Hannah needed her the most. When he needed her the most. Losing your dad was painful enough without the loss of a friend on top of it. Topping it off with the added responsibility of being the man of the family meant he hadn’t been able to mourn like his mother and sister. Instead, he’d had to be strong, be the one they could lean on.

She could have found some way, he was sure, to contact them. To contact him. She just hadn’t tried hard enough, is all. Because if Lilly wanted to do something, Lilly did it—even if it got her in trouble.

Speaking of trouble, Justin frowned as the mayor handed the microphone down to one of her assistants and her float started moving again. Crap. Should he wait for Lilly and Cisco? He made a few short blasts of the siren to get her attention, but she only turned to look, then waved him on.

The cadre of cops surrounding his car began marching past, and Kevin banged on the hood. “C’mon, Weave, let’s go!” he said over the loudspeakers.

The fire truck and the ambulance behind them blared their horns and sirens at him: Whoop-whoop! Wedged in place between the mayor and the fire department, he really didn’t have a choice. Lilly was on her own.

Forget it. We aren’t kids anymore. Lilly had fended for herself since he’d left for Afghanistan after high school, and she appeared no worse for wear. In fact, she looked great. In his coat, especially. She’d be fine.

He put the car in drive and rolled past her.

After about twenty minutes of peering behind him for Lilly, who’d vanished into the crowd, some clown on a banana-yellow Vespa zipped up alongside his cruiser. Then the little motorbike stopped right by the passenger-side door, and its rear rider hopped off.

Lilly!

She opened the door and hopped in with a wave to the clown, who sped off.

“Whew! That was fun. I have to get one of those.”

“What? A clown?” He shuddered.

“No. One of those little motorcycles,” she said. “Thanks for the coat. I couldn’t zip it up—it was like wearing a sleeping bag.” She slipped it off her shoulders. “Ooh! Now I’m cold. I should have kept it on.”

Justin focused his attention through the windshield. “Keep it then.” Then he realized she was alone. He turned to peer over his shoulder. “Where’s Cisco?”

“He’ll be along in a bit. He’s probably taking some more shots of the crowd.”

“He left you? Alone?” Justin bit his tongue. None of my business.

“He found me a ride is what he did. He’s my hero.”

“Some hero. He got you a ride with a clown. That’s suspect in my book.”

“Don’t hate,” Lilly said.

“Yeah but…hating clowns isn’t the same as hating other things. I’m sorry, but those guys are creepy.”

Lilly rolled her eyes. “Justin? The heat?”

“Sorry.” He turned on the heat so it poured through the vents. She sighed and leaned forward, tilting her chin up so the air blew down the V-neck of her tight elf costume and showing him a flash of her pink lace bra. “That’s nice.”

Pink lace? Lilly wears pink lace? Not that he expected her to wear utilitarian white bras, or even something with kitties, bunnies, or superheroes, but pink lace just didn’t mesh with his memories of Lilly. She really was grown up. And so was he. Things had changed.

“Justin!” she squeaked, and he turned to look out the windshield just in time to realize he was about to rear-end the mayor’s float. He slammed on the brakes.

The cops around his car made appropriately crude comments. A few seconds later, Kevin pounded on his window. “Dude. What the hell?”

He rolled it down. “Sorry. I got…” Um. “Distracted.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Good thing none of us were in front of you.” Kevin bent to see Lilly. “How’s it going, elfie? Having fun?”

“Now that Justin got me all warmed up, I am.”

Son of a… “She means she was cold,” Justin said. Oops. That makes it sound like we were caught doing something illicit. Like thinking about her lacy pink underwear. “I mean—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know what you mean. You dog.” Kevin winked, then stood up straight and nodded. “When we get to city hall, the mayor’s making a speech. Then the chief is going to talk, and you’ll get to make your speech. Have you figured out what you’re going to say?”

Justin nodded automatically, but as O’Rourke’s words registered, his stomach clenched in his gut. “Wait. I have to talk?”

“Yeah. It was my idea. You know, to go along with the new PD PR.” His partner gave him a cocky grin.

“You…I…but, you know I hate public speaking.” Justin sank into his seat behind the wheel as his heart began to race.

“I know.” Kevin smiled cheerfully.

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Face it, I’m doing you a favor. The more you do something you’re afraid to do, the less you’re afraid of it. It’s called ‘immersion therapy.’”

Justin narrowed his eyes at his partner.

O’Rourke took a step back and to the side. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Go up to the mike, say ‘Ho ho ho, merry Christmas,’ and wave. How hard will that be?”

“Right. I…walk up to the mike and…say…” He thought of the people, staring at him. Waiting for him to talk. And then his mind filled with whiteness. Blank. My mind is blank. I have no words. Words? Words. What? “Huh?” he said, peering out the window at Kevin. His vision blurred.

Then there was a warmth and the scent of peppermint as Lilly moved to lean against him. “Public speaking doesn’t have to be scary,” she said as she placed her hand on his chest.

Its warmth scorched through his cheap Santa suit, snaking its way up to his shoulder and down his chest. He shivered and stared down at her neat pink-and-white fingernails. The third nail had a tiny gingerbread man painted on it. Didn’t the gingerbread man run away? Justin wished he could run away…

“Come on, Justin. You’re a cop. You’re a marine. You fight bad guys. This is nothing in comparison. Believe me, you can handle a bunch of kids and their parents. I have confidence in you!” She winked at him and squeezed his arm. “But if you get tongue-tied, I’ll be there to save you.”

He turned to her; her face was only inches away, and the peppermint scent of her swirled around him, sweet and spicy all at the same time. He was supposed to rely on Lilly to save him?

She licked her lips with the tip of her red tongue and blinked her big apple-green eyes. Her unconsciously sexy motions made his stomach flip-flop.

In front of a camera, with Maddox the Menace? Even more people would be watching him. He shrugged her hand off his shoulder. “No thanks.”

Undeterred, she leaned across Justin’s lap so she could peer up at Kevin; her short skirt rode up her thighs, almost to the bottom of the curves of her heart-shaped behind. He lifted his hands over his head, swallowed, and inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume.

She was trying to kill him.

She had to be. No one could act like Lilly, and talk like Lilly, and be completely unaware of their actions.

Then again, he’d always called her Maddox the Menace for a reason. Now he just had a new one. She was gorgeous, and a menace to his self-control.

His heart thumped and his skin tingled. Either he was attracted to her or he was allergic to her. Maybe both—and both, equally bad. He couldn’t be attracted to Lilly; she was his sister’s best friend. It was all kinds of awkward wrapped up in a pretty package.

Still, she did a great job of playing oblivious as she asked Kevin, “So…you have to ride with him all the time? How do you stay so cheerful?”

“I know, right? Glad you’re giving me the week off.” He grinned.

Justin wondered if O’Rourke could see down her dress, too. Maybe he was gawking at that same peek of pink lace. “I’ll have to come up with a way to pay you back for the break,” Kevin said.

No way. Justin wanted to punch him. He could only imagine what O’Rourke would come up with. Instead, he moved his body to block the view down Lilly’s dress. “Don’t you have some candy canes to fling? Step away from the car before I run you over.” He rolled the window up in Kevin’s face. “Asswipe.” Then he nudged Lilly with his arm. “Buckle up.”

Lilly leaned back, took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Listen, I really need you to be a great Santa. Not just for the public relations aspect of the piece—though, yes, that’s important. We want you to be the face of the police department, the one people think of when they think officer or cop. But we want children and their parents to know that the police are our friends.”

Justin frowned. “Being Santa is the way to do that?”

“One of the ways, yes. But beyond that, my career hinges on getting it done right.”

“On this?” He pinched at the fabric of the Santa suit.

Lilly nodded so forcefully, the bells on her hat jingled. “There are two of us freelancers working this story. But only one of us is going to get the full-time job at the end. It’s like an audition—how well we interview, gather information, and shape a story. As if my portfolio doesn’t speak for itself. It’s important that we work together to make this the best holiday coverage ever.”

He stared at her. “You’re serious. A fluff piece like this?”

She shrugged with another jingle. “I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a spot open and they want to fill it by the start of the new year, and we’re both equally qualified, so we’ve both got equally viewer-friendly stories to cover. That’s how they choose between us. Who gets the better story and the better ratings.” Lilly sighed. “If you can’t do it for me, can you do it for…your mom? And your sister? If I get the job, I can live here again. I just want to settle down in a place that feels like home. I’m tired of traveling, you know? And…I miss family. Like your mom.”

Mom. She’d missed Lilly intensely. “All right. I’ll do it. For my mom.” Crap. Always the hero. He nodded, but held up his hand. “But don’t think I’m happy about it.”

The back door opened and the car rocked as Cisco jumped in with a rush of cold air. He slammed the door and sat there with his camera pointed at them. “What’s up? What did I miss?”

Lilly turned to Cisco. “Just catching up. Turns out Officer Weaver and I are old friends. Isn’t that right, Justin?”

“Yeah. Friends.” Maybe.

…

Lilly fished through her bag for her tablet. Business. Focus on business.

Hard to do when your heart’s pounding so fast you can barely think.

Face it, Lilly. You’re sunk.

She couldn’t figure it out. Justin had been her friend, sort of, before her parents had sent her to Tabor-Frenchy. Hannah had understood. Why couldn’t he?

Because he was stubborn, that was why. He’d always been stubborn. And cranky besides. The big doofus. But that was then, and this was now, and she wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand on her. He might be big, broad, and intimidating—even in a cheap velveteen Santa suit—but there was nothing he could do to stop her from getting the piece she needed or the job she wanted. He could glower and complain until next Christmas; she wasn’t backing down.

And right now, she needed to get Justin ready for his speech. She sat up and looked at him. “You sounded surprised when—Kevin?—told you you’re supposed to speak to the crowd. We were planning to get that on camera. Is it going to be a problem? You’re not going to freeze on me, are you?”

“No,” Justin muttered. “I…yes. Look at me. This is humiliating.”

“You look like Santa. What could be better? Think of it this way, you’re doing it for the kids. You’re going to make all their dreams come true. Put your hat back on.”

“It itches.” He cringed. “I think I’m allergic to mistletoe. I even have a hive on my forehead.”

She held out her hand. “Cisco, give me that hat. I’ll move the swag so it doesn’t touch Justin’s skin.”

Justin muttered under his breath as she re-pinned the sprig of mistletoe so it didn’t hang on his forehead and handed it to him. “There. That’s better. Now put it on.”

“Here. Don’t forget this.” Cisco held up a flash of white.

“I knew something was missing. Your beard!”

“My sanity.” Justin jammed the hat onto his head.

Lilly couldn’t help but grin; he looked so miserable and adorable. It reminded her of the times she’d harass him just to make his ears turn red. “You’re cute when you’re cranky,” she told him without thinking.

“Thanks.” Justin held out his hand without looking into the back. “Gimme the beard.”

Cisco handed it over. Justin hooked the wires of the beard over his ears, making spitting noises as pieces of acrylic white hair got into his mouth.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Lilly said. “Besides, you look so Santa-like in it. Not a sign of Justin Scrooge at all.”

He peered into the mirror. “I think I saw something moving.”

“Stop whining. That was your breath. You’re going to get out there and make those children believe you’re the real Santa.”

He lowered his eyebrows at her. “The real Santa doesn’t have things living in his beard.”

“All right. If not for the kiddies, do it for the mommies. I’m telling you, you’ve got to be the sexiest Santa these suburbanite soccer moms have ever seen.”

He made another spitting noise. “Just what I want to be. A MILF magnet with fleas.”

“Ho ho ho. If you’re a nice Santa, I’ll sit on your lap.” What did I just say? Lilly Maddox, you’re an idiot!

Justin stared at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“I mean…I didn’t mean I…” She trailed off and stared back at him. “I just meant I’d treat you like Santa, is all, and um—”

But she was saved by a bang as they rear-ended the mayor’s parade float.