“You mean wax everything from the neck down,” I say.
“Nope.” Tilly wrinkles her nose. “That was just a delicate way of saying I think we need to revisit that beard you’ve got going.”
“What?” I squawk as they take off. “Hey! I do not have a beard.”
About ten different people turn my way to confirm this.
“I don’t have a beard, Shep.” My cheeks burn bright as Christmas ornaments, and I’m suddenly wishing I had a beard to cover up the fact I’m mortified.
“No—of course not.” His brows dip low as he examines me. “And it’s dark here. You’ll be fine.”
I don’t hesitate swatting him as a husky laugh bounds through him.
“You’re lucky I like you,” I say as I wrap my arms around his waist.
He inches back and gives a playful frown.
“You like me, huh?” His expression grows serious as he examines me a moment. “I guess you could say I’m pretty enamored with you, too.” His lids hood low. “In fact, you could say I—”
No sooner is Shep about to blurt out something profound—or at least I’m hoping—when the ground beneath me gives a shake and rattle, the world grows strangely dim, and that old familiar warm and fuzzy feeling takes over.
A vision begins to form in my mind’s eye. A dimly lit corridor appears, and I recognize that crimson damask wallpaper as belonging to the Mortimer Manor. A woman looks my way, panting—her eyes wide with terror.
“You can’t tell anybody. I could go to jail for this! Please, just forget about everything you’ve just said. I’d hate for something to happen.”
“I recognize that woman!” I blurt it right out into poor Shep’s face, and he startles as if I’ve just smacked him solid.
“What woman?” He leans back a notch, his arms securing themselves that much more around my waist. “Bowie, it happened again, didn’t it?”
“Whoa, whoa.” A horrible thought hits me. “Can we just rewind the conversation a wee bit?” I wince. “I didn’t miss anything big, did I?” Like the letters L-O followed by the all-important V and E?
Shep exhales as if he’s been holding his breath all along and he holds my gaze with his. Shep is devastatingly handsome tonight with that dark scruff on his cheeks. His dark hair is thick and glossy, and it brings out the pale striations in his eyes.
He brushes his thumb over my cheek. “We can revisit it.” He nods. “Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to take you home?”
“What? No.” I give a quick look around and gasp once I spot a golden throne situated just past the hot cocoa stand. And seated on that gilded wonder is the man in the red suit himself—the exact jolly old elf I was hoping we’d run into this evening, Mayor Augustus Wright.
“Bowie?” Shep says it low, more like a growl as he follows my gaze. “We’re here to get a couple of trees, remember? No need to question anybody. Besides, I’ve already got his boots from the other night.”
“Well, it looks as if he found another pair. I suggest we head over and ask where he got them.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Because I’ve just recruited you to play the part of the candy cane king for the ugly sweater party the manor is hosting. And you never know, he might have some tips and tricks to give you. Like how to strangle your ex while you’re on a five-minute break.” I bite my lip as I look up at Shep. “Of course, we’d have to narrow it down between Nora and Regina. I vote for the sassy waitress. She’s got a big ego and a rebellious disposition if she thinks she can keep secrets with my man.”
Shep’s lips curve with devious intent. “I probably shouldn’t be smiling since you’ve just entertained two new homicides in the same breath, but I confess, I like the sound of that last statement.”
A throaty laugh bubbles from me. “And, being my man, I’m sure you can’t deny me a thing. I think Pixie needs her picture taken with Santa.”
He glances back while Mayor Wright does his thing.
“All right, Kitten,” he says, looking right into my eyes. “Bowie”—he whispers my name—“I’m worried about you.”
“I know.” I swallow hard. “And I think it’s time I let you in on my secret.” My chest bucks as I say it because I’m terrified that Shep will walk away from what we have—or in the least have me arrested. Potentially both. “Just not here.” I shrug. “But first, let’s make Pixie’s red velvet wishes come true.”
A crooked grin glides up his face. “I’ve got a few red velvet wishes of my own.”
“Stop by the café tomorrow morning. You’re going to love my new uniform. The best part? It transitions to an on the town gown with a simple quick change into a pair of sexy heels.”
“Sounds as if I’d better take you out to dinner.”
“I knew you were a smart one.”
We dash right through the snow and make tracks toward the golden throne in question. Lucky for us, the line moves quickly, and before we know it, we’re bringing up the rear.
Shep lands his lips close to my ear. “I’ll do the talking.”
I inch back. “Have you met me?”
“Bowie,” he pleads just this side of insisting, but it’s too late, we’re up next.
“Mayor Gus!” I say brightly. “It looks as if it’s Pixie’s lucky day,” I say, plopping my sweet kitty into his lap. “She’s been on both the naughty and the nice list this year—just like her daddy.” I wink over at Shep. “I guess it’s up to you to decide which side of the fence she lands on Christmas morning.”
Pixie looks up at me with those big round eyes. If I were a betting woman, I’d say she were contemplating scratching both of our eyes out and making a run
