“I had a little help with my shopping from a certain law dog. He guarantees it’ll do the job.”
Doc pulled the Kevlar vest from the box, holding it up to admire it. “It’s lighter than it looks.”
“Made with some of the newest technology, or so I’m told.” Cooper had assured me it would do the job of keeping Doc safer during our hunts—or rather haunts.
He slid it on, fastening it over his chest. Cooper had been spot on with the size for Doc. I stood and knocked on the material over his heart. “Rock solid, just like the sexy stud underneath it.”
Doc caught my wrist. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or scared by this gift. What do you have planned for me, Killer?”
I winked. “What can I say? I like really rough foreplay. I’d hate for you to get hurt before you finish the job.”
“You and me both.” He lifted my hand, his lips brushing my knuckles. “Thank you. I’ll wear it on our next date.”
I sat down on the bed as he unfastened the vest and slid it off, placing it next to me on the comforter. I scratched my fingernails down the front. “Cooper says he wears his over a white T-shirt most days, especially when he knows he’ll be hanging around me.”
“Yet you still find ways to bruise the poor guy.” Doc walked over to his closet. “At least you won’t be able to pinch me in as many places when I’m wearing it.” He opened one of the closet doors. “I have a little something for you, too. Close your eyes.”
I did as told, resisting the urge to peek. My heart pounded. If he was holding an engagement ring when I opened my eyes, I was going to keel over. Marriage was a subject I avoided like the plague with Doc, even though he’d recently informed me that he was not allergic to wearing matching gold bands. A bachelor of thirty-nine years may claim that talk of getting hitched doesn’t give him the hives, but I wasn’t merely a single woman looking for a partner to go to dinner and the movies with once a week during date night. I had two kids who needed a dad. My overloaded Conestoga wagon might be more trouble than he bargained for once we settled into riding the trail together for the long term.
“Okay, open them,” Doc said.
I did and gasped.
It was not a little square box with a sparkly ring.
Not even close.
“What’s that?” I stared at what looked like a bat with an array of four-inch-long metal spikes poking out of one end. The handle had a leather grip with steel flanges above and below it to keep it from slipping free in the thick of battle—a detail Cooper would appreciate the next time we took turns swinging and shooting at sharp-toothed troublemakers.
“It’s a mace,” Doc answered. “I found a blacksmith south of Hill City who makes custom weapons.”
Was this the same guy who’d made the trident?
“I told him my idea and he brought it to life.” Doc held it out for me to take. “Try out your new weapon, Killer.”
I gripped the mace. The leather-wrapped neck was soft to the touch, like it had been worked and worn for comfort. I smiled up at him, my heart swelling. “You got me a custom-made spiky bat,” I said huskily, my throat tight with emotion. It was the perfect weapon to make me feel better after I lost my war hammer. “That’s so romantic!”
His cheeks darkened a smidgeon, his gaze lowering to the bat. “I’ve watched you work a war hammer and a crowbar. While you were good with both, I thought you might be even better with something more like a softball bat, being that you were an all-star player in high school.”
I choked up with the mace, like I was standing at home plate facing off with an invisible pitcher, and swung. The weapon felt solid in my hands, the heft of it weighted perfectly for me. I took another swing, forward and back.
“Damn, this is sweet.” I glanced down at the Kevlar vest then at Doc, who was leaning against his desk watching me with one hell of a smolder in his eyes. “Why don’t you suit up, Candy Cane, and let me take a swing or two at you.”
He laughed. “Nice try, Killer, but my ribs are still healing from our rendezvous in Slagton.”
I lowered the mace, my smile slipping at the reminder of his sore ribs. “You sure you want to go down the mountain today? Maybe you need to stay home and rest.”
His brow lowered. “Are you looking for an excuse to go to your family’s Christmas without me?”
“No. Of course not.” I thought about it for another second and answered more honestly. “Okay, maybe. The idea of spending several days with my sister sniffing around you has me sweating. I’m antsy about ending up with a serious case of heartburn for the holidays.”
“Heartburn, nice.” He got my play on words. “I told you not to worry about Susan. I have eyes for only you.”
“But I’m not tall, thin, and gorgeous. She’s like kinky sex on a popsicle stick.”
“Violet, I am so nuts about you that I gave you a lethal weapon for Christmas. A custom mace is not the sort of gift a guy buys for just any girl, you know.”
I dropped the mace on the bed next to his Kevlar vest and crossed to him, settling between his legs. I slid my hands around his waist, hugging him while I stared up at him with my heart in my eyes. “Thank you, Doc.”
“Trust me, Boots,” he said, using the nickname reserved for the stolen moments when we were usually alone and naked—well, naked except for my purple cowboy boots. “From the tips of your wild curls to the ends of your adorable toes, you are
