Page 143 of Protective Heroes

Or directly into her arms.

If he was lucky.

Outside, he sucked in Chicago’s cold winter air, hoping it would help ease the ache of loss.

Through the fresh, white powder that glided on the chilled breeze, he took in the familiar lay of the worksite. Early evening fast approached, her eerie shadows easing across the empty lot. As a kid, he spent every summer here with his dad, learning the ropes and working machinery before he could even drive a car. Nothing had changed in the months he’d been gone. He could walk the place blindfolded with how methodical his dad kept everything. Seemed as though lately the only time he had come home was to bury a loved one. His best friend a year ago and now his father.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. Tired from the trip home then dealing with the last details of his father’s estate and funeral arrangements, his mind filled with what he’d do now. Retirement seemed the only option. Who else would operate Black Oaks? Especially with Willa leaving. But all that could be decided after the holidays.

He turned on his heel and headed back inside, taking in the last light of the day through the front window.

He strode across the small office and reached for the crumpled ball of paper on the floor. A stiff blast of heat from the overhead vent caught the corner of something white as it fluttered from the front pocket of Willa’s satchel.

He scooped it up, scanned over the full-page offer, then stopped. A familiar gold and black seal stood out against the stark white paper with the same perfect blue signature at the bottom.

His gut dropped to his knees and rolled for the second time tonight.

He crumpled the paper and slammed his fist against the wall behind Willa’s desk. White light from the office overheads flared to life, chasing away the evening shadows.

Angry at himself, he tossed aside the paper. In the Marines, his height alone scared the shit out of people. Add to the mix words like Recon and dead shot, people’s natural instincts forced them to give him a wide berth, but Willa? She loved pushing his buttons every chance she got, and today she meant to draw blood.

He glanced at the clock. Just enough time. Maybe. He’d need to call in a couple of favors though.

In a swift movement, he palmed his cell and punched in Willa’s number, his jaw tight. No more ignoring the truth and turning his back on what he wanted. Christmas was a time of miracles after all.

Aiden, dear friend, you’ll have to forgive me.

Perched on the corner of the desk stood a silver-framed photo of his dark-haired beauty in a candid shot with him and Aiden.

The phone rang several times before she answered. “Bueno.”

He paused a beat at the sound of her soft, dulcet Latina voice. Just saying hello made him want to taste those sweet lips.

He let out a quiet breath before he spoke. “Willa, I need a favor. Can we meet at the cabin in about an hour? And can you bring the contracts from Dad’s latest client? I can’t remember the name offhand, but there’s something we need to address right now. Thanks.” With that, he cut the connection. No way in hell he would give her time to tell him no. Or ask him about his spotty excuse.

A year ago today Adrian had been ripped out of their lives, leaving a hole in both of their hearts. Now with the heavy loss of his father, he was over saying goodbye. Tonight he would break every fucking rule standing between him and his Christmas virgin.

This was happening. He wanted it and so much more. For her he would give himself over to chance and that Christmas miracle he needed so badly.

No more running because tonight Willa would be his.

Two

This could not be happening.

Willa rested her forehead on the steering wheel in the hopes of finding some kind of enlightenment, guidance... whatever. Hell, she didn’t know, but whatever it was needed to come, and fast. She was about to step into the wolf’s den, and a little backup would be nice.

She took a deep breath, killed the ignition, and let her shoulders droop. She caught her reflection in the rearview mirror and she wanted to cry all over again. Faint shafts of light from the house revealed the remnants of her pity-party-for-one earlier this evening.

Absentmindedly, she combed through the contents of her purse looking for something to cover her puffy red eyes, but to be honest she’d need sunglasses the size of Texas.

Her vision swam. Damn it!

Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much?

She’d planned this day for months. Waited for the right time. Waited for him.

But it never came. When he was home on leave, he avoided her like she was a breathing nightmare.

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