Lenora Worth - Classified K-9 Unit Christmas

“Russo could have still been hanging around, too,” she said, glad Sam had picked up his scent. But then, Sam did specialize in cadaver detection and he’d done that job to perfection last night. After that, a lot of people had passed through those woods.

Tired and unable to gather her thoughts, Nina stood up and stretched. “I’m going home tonight. Tim and Zeke checked my place and it’s safe. No one’s been there that we can tell.”

“That you know of,” Thomas retorted. “You’re safer here.”

“I’m safe at my house, too,” she replied. “I have security and I have Sam. And I have several weapons.”

“A woman after my own heart,” he deadpanned. “I’ll be two miles down the road, letting Penny Potter and the Wild Iris staff pamper me.”

“Good.” She kind of wished he’d offered to at least come to her house for coffee. But then, they’d both drunk enough of that dark brew...and she had to resist whatever was brewing between them, too. “I’m going to decorate the tree I brought home the other day before all the needles fall off, and make myself a big cup of hot chocolate. Maybe watch a sappy Christmas movie just for kicks.”

In reality she’d grab some popcorn and go back over this bizarre case. But he didn’t need to know that.

They walked out together, both searching the area for another sniper, Sam trotting at their feet and two armed guards set up in the parking garage. When they reached their vehicles, Thomas turned to her. “I’m kind of lonely, you know. I haven’t had a real Christmas in years. I’d enjoy helping you decorate that dying tree.”

Nina’s heart betrayed her by bouncing all around her chest. “Are you inviting yourself to dinner, Thomas?”

“Are you asking me to dinner, Nina?”

“No.”

He laughed. “Then yes, I’m inviting myself to dinner, but I really only wanted to decorate the tree. But if you insist...”

“I don’t recall insisting.”

“But you were thinking it, right?”

She wondered how he did that. No wonder bad guys tried to steer clear of him.

“No,” she said with a laugh, “I was thinking too bad I don’t cook.”

He leaned close, his whisper half a step away. “Even better. I do.”

She’d never had a man cook for her before. Should she tell him to get lost? Or should she let him follow her home so they could brainstorm this case all over again?

She glanced down at the rottweiler. “What do you think, Sam? Should Thomas cook us dinner, but only because we want to pick his brain later and try to figure out things on this investigation?”

The big dog looked from her to the marshal and let out a woof.

“I think that was a yes,” Thomas said, his handsome face full of a triumphant smugness.

“Only because it’s Christmas and you’re a stranger in a strange land.”

“I hear that,” he replied. Then he scanned the parking garage. “We sure don’t need to be standing here out in the open arguing about it, so let’s go.”

* * *

Nina turned off the security alarm and rushed inside the tiny cottage she’d lived in since she’d arrived in Iris Rock a few months ago. The drive to and from Billings could be tricky on a night such as this, when a new snowfall seemed imminent. But she’d grown up in the bitter cold of Wyoming and knew how to mount snow tires on her vehicle and how to use her head and her driving skills while braking. She was pretty capable at most things, except when it came to kitchen duty. But she wasn’t really serious about letting Thomas cook for her.

“What was I thinking?” she asked Sam. He shadowed her, hoping for his own dinner. “I don’t have food and I don’t cook. I can’t offer him your dinner, right?”

The dog shot her a doleful glance that stated “Nope.”

Knowing Thomas would be close behind her, she tidied up, clearing away the local paper and some research books and novels off the couch, then hurried to change into jeans and a blue-and-white-striped wool sweater. She was running a comb through her tousled hair and putting on pink lip gloss when the doorbell rang.

She’d never actually invited anyone here before. Especially not a man.

“Mom would be proud,” she whispered to Sam.

Sam woofed a positive approval that the person at her door came in peace.

But she checked the peephole, anyway.

Too much tall stood there.

Now she was sweating in her sweater.

“C’mon in,” she said, her words deceitfully calm. “I’m going to be honest. I’m not sure I have anything on hand to make an edible meal.”

Shrugging out of his heavy coat, Thomas took in the small living room and galley kitchen. Nina watched him for signs of disappointment or regret. But in typical lawman fashion, he seemed to be sizing up security—and taking in information on how she lived.

Heavy beige curtains covered the sliding doors to the tiny backyard that she and Sam loved to play in. The furniture came with the place, and it was mismatched and clunky.

Wishing she’d taken a little time to decorate the rooms with her own sense of style, Nina crossed her arms over her midsection and stood her ground. She worked too much to worry about making it into Architectural Digest.

“It ain’t much, but it’s home,” she chirped, motioning to the big doors and several windows. “On good days, I can see the Pryor Mountains, which is kind of cool since I could also see them from my bedroom in Wyoming, growing up.”

His stormy eyes widened. “What, you circled the mountain and settled on the other side?”

“Something like that.” Looking at her sad little home through the eyes of someone else made Nina self-conscious and almost embarrassed. But she shook that off the way she shook off everything she couldn’t deal with. “Let’s see what we can round up.”

She headed to the refrigerator and stared at the barren shelves. “I see a few carrots and two potatoes.” Then she checked the freezer. “And a bag of chicken breasts that might have come with the house.”

Thomas snorted and gently moved her aside. “The date on the chicken is still within the safe zone. We’ll hope the same with the potatoes and carrots. Do you stock any canned goods?”

She nodded and opened an overhead cabinet by the refrigerator. “Oh, look, chicken noodle soup and tomato soup. If only we had some crackers.”

“We don’t need crackers,” he stated, already rolling up his sleeves. “You get the decorations ready and I’ll get dinner going.”

“What exactly do you plan to cook?” she asked, wondering how she’d managed to get in this predicament in the first place.

“The Thomas Grant special, ma’am,” he said in his best Texas drawl. “You’re gonna love it.”

She doubted that, but she’d give it a shot since she couldn’t kick him out now. Sam’s head moved in ping-pong style back and forth between them. Obviously, he smelled something in the air. Something distinctive and different.

Another human in the kitchen. Or a tad too much of some new and exciting undercurrent.

Soon, Thomas had the chicken and potatoes browning in a big pot, along with some onions and peppers he’d discovered in a crisper drawer with all the joy of a kid opening a present. He hummed while he cooked.

Nina pretended to be unraveling Christmas lights, but she couldn’t help glancing over at him. A giant wearing boots had taken over her home. And it was beginning to smell good, which caused her stomach to make strange noises and her heart to do funny jumps and bumps.

Finally, after he’d dismantled cans and rummaged for spices and splashed this and that into the pot, he turned it to simmer and came to sit beside her on the now-too-small floral love seat in front of the tiny electric fireplace. “Chicken noodle soup and biscuits coming up in about a half hour.”