Take Me Home for Christmas

“Give me more details! What was the worst moment?”

She thought of Chief Stacy’s visit but decided not to mention it. That was too negative for a festive night like Halloween. “When I failed my typing test shortly after I arrived.”

“Oh, no!” She started laughing, too. “Ted gave you a typing test?”

“He did. And I can tell you he wasn’t impressed with the results.”

“I’ll help with the clerical stuff, if you need me to. What does he want typed?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Then it must not be too important.”

“Or else he did it himself.”

“I’ll talk to him about it. And...the best moment of your day?”

She considered the hours she’d spent in the kitchen. They’d been enjoyable. She loved his house. It was different enough to feel free-spirited, definitely didn’t resemble the gilded cage in which she’d lived with Skip. “He seemed to like the food I made. He ate enough of it. So...I have that going for me—at the moment, anyway. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll hit your groove once you get used to the demands of the job.”

“I hope it gets easier.”

“The first day is always the toughest.”

Sophia wouldn’t know. She’d never worked for anyone except her father, who’d had her create and deliver flyers for various charities or serve at community events when he was mayor. He’d paid her for her time, to augment what he gave her, which was too much to begin with.

However, she didn’t want to point out her lack of experience. She’d felt like an exception to the rule in Whiskey Creek for too long. “Are you going to the Halloween party tonight?”

There was a slight pause. “I am. Would you like to come?”

“No. I wasn’t fishing for an invitation. Alexa and I have plans.” That wasn’t necessarily true. Alexa was going to see about trick-or-treating with Emily, her softball buddy. But in case that didn’t pan out, Sophia wanted to be there for her. “I was wondering if you needed a costume.”

“I was planning to be an old-fashioned barmaid, like I was last year. Or maybe an elderly lady in a robe and curlers. I couldn’t bring myself to spend any money this year. Thanks to the owners of A Room with a View constantly undercutting my prices, I’m having trouble turning a profit at the inn.”

“Even after the remodel and the grand reopening?”

“It’s gotten better the past couple of years, but...it’s still a struggle.”

“I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t invest with Skip.”

Eve laughed again. “No. You’re safe there. I’m just being conservative.”

“I’m glad you’re not an investor. And it’s a good thing you didn’t buy a costume because I have some really great ones, and you can borrow any of them. Would you like to come over and take a peek? You’re a few inches taller than I am, but we could find something that would fit. I could do your makeup, too.” She held her breath as she awaited Eve’s response. She’d made overtures toward Ted’s friends before—overtures that’d been politely but not warmly accepted. Eve pitied her, so she was trying to help; that didn’t mean she was willing to embrace a full-fledged friendship. Considering how most people felt right now, Eve would be justified in keeping her distance.

“You mean the scavengers didn’t take those, too?” she asked.

“Far as I know, they’re in the attic. They didn’t get into my holiday decorations. And I didn’t suggest it.”

“Thank goodness! You were offering up everything else. I finally had to stop them when they got to your underwear drawer.”

They hadn’t really gone that far, other than to dump them out and carry off the furniture, but Sophia was grateful she and Eve could joke about it. Laughter eased the heartache. “I owe you a big thanks for that.”

“Yes, you do,” Eve teased. “So this can be it. I’ll come right over.”

Sophia smiled as she hung up. That exchange had felt good—natural, real—at a time when not many things did.

Alexa was coming down the street. She was later than usual, but Sophia wasn’t concerned. She was excited about spending the evening with her daughter. She’d just finished her first day of work ever and felt proud that she hadn’t been fired. But when Alexa drew closer, Sophia realized why she was late: there were marks on her face, and her shirt was torn.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. “Not her.”

14

Ted was too distracted to have much fun. Maybe it was because he’d been coming to the same party—if he wasn’t hosting it—for too many years. He liked getting together with his friends. Gail and Simon couldn’t make it, and Baxter hadn’t yet arrived, but all the others were there: Callie, Levi, Adelaide, Noah, Brandon, Olivia, Kyle, Riley, Cheyenne, Dylan and Eve. There was just something...anticlimactic about this event. As he sat on Cheyenne and Dylan’s sofa, his mind kept wandering back to Sophia and what he’d learned today. How Skip had abandoned her on their wedding anniversary. How he’d made her ride on a float each Fourth of July, as if she was a Barbie doll he could dress up and pose at his whim. The fact that she’d wanted to file a complaint with the police and he’d intervened before she could.

Had he been abusive?

Most of the people at this party thought so. They’d debated it before, had seen the bruises. Ted had chosen to believe Sophia when she said her injuries were the result of bumping into a door or a cupboard, but—

“You’re quiet tonight, Sir Dixon.”

He glanced up to find Eve smiling down at him and moved the sword of his Knight Templar costume so she could sit beside him.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked as she handed him a glass of wine.

“Nothing much.”

“There’s always something going on. You’re our resident intellectual. Are you busy plotting your current manuscript?”

“Maybe.” He grinned and clinked his glass against hers. “Nice costume, by the way.” This year Cheyenne had asked everyone to contribute $5 so the person with the best costume could win a jackpot. Knowing there was a competition made it more interesting to dress up. He doubted he would have bothered otherwise. He wasn’t much for that sort of thing, despite participating in the past. For tonight he’d spent nearly $200 to make sure his costume looked authentic instead of cheesy, and he’d accomplished that. But even an authentic-looking Knight Templar couldn’t compete with Catwoman—not this version. He could hardly take his eyes off Eve in that tight-fitting black leather bodysuit.

Since when did Halloween costumes get so damn sexy?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Like what?”

She pointed to her face. “My eyes are up here.”

He’d never ogled Eve’s breasts before. It felt odd to be doing it now. They’d been friends for too long. But having Sophia back in his life made him restless and suddenly dissatisfied, as if he should’ve been doing more all along. Dating. Socializing. Making the most of his youth. All he could think about was how long it had been since he’d had sex....

“You’re the one who wore that costume,” he grumbled. “I can’t be the only man who’s tempted to stare.”

“I was a barmaid last year.”

“So?”

“So that costume showed a lot more cleavage, and you didn’t give me a second glance.” She fluffed her hair. “Maybe it’s the red wig.”

He knew she was teasing, but he answered her seriously despite that. “It’s definitely