Page 112 of Hunted: Season Two

“Orunwrapped,” Nolan lightly chuckles. “I’m not that picky.”

“You two really do say the sweetest things.” More laughter echoes around the garage prior to me rolling a finger around. “Let’s get going, though. I don’t wanna miss the moment where they light the big tree.”

The annual Christmas festival actually doesn’t occur in the heart of the town like one would suspect.

No.

It occurs on the very outskirts, along the county border, where DC and CW meet, allowing both cities to bond together to create a lucrative, community-based experience forbothareas considering how often their residents, as well as patrons, overlap.

While taking two vehicles isn’t my favorite – nor Kid’s – we understand it’s necessary given that Nolan’s on call.

Beingnoton call has been a less than fun argument the two of them increasingly get into that groaning about cramps – I may or may not actually have – thankfully momentarily pauses.

I probably shouldn’t exaggerate my feelings this much, but it’s such a handy tool.

And if my guys have taught me anything, it’s that all tools in the toolbox are meant to be used for something.

“Relax, Kid,” grumbles Nolan under his breath as he drops a loving arm around my shoulder. “It’s highly unlikely anyone’s gonna call tonight.”

“Yeah, but theycould,” he fusses while folding his fingers with mine, “and then you’ll have togoand miss our first Christmas festival together as a family.”

“I have to be on callbecausewe have a family,” Mutt hisses, leaning slightly around me to do so. “The house we’re building, the baby we’re having, the…past…we’re…trying to put to rest,” he emphasizes with a firm expression, “aren’t fuckin’ free. And we ain’t exactly millionaires-”

“Far from it with the way you invest,” I playfully interject, only to receive a small swat to the ass by Nolan.

“Which means my ass has to be on callespeciallyduring the holiday season when the rates are damn near doubled for my services and the licensing board is more lenient on how many hours in a row you can grab.”

Kid’s light gray knit pullover covered shoulders slump in defeat.

“I won’t work Christmas,” Mutt swears for the third time today. “Remember?”

Our boyfriend nods, adjusts his hold on my hand, and we continue onward towards the back of the crowd that’s congregating together for the one thing I absolutely didn’t want to miss.

An announcer begins shortly upon our arrival; however, paying attention to the history of this event is abandoned for scouring the bustling scenes all around us. Trucks for hot chocolate and apple cider are sprinkled in between booths for crafting and contests. There are tables selling everything from candles to crocheted items to herbal infused remedies claiming to cure your cold or boost your immune system. Allowing my grin to grow bigger and bigger is easy, yet ignoring the feeling of someone watching me isn’t.

When you’ve been hunted this long and this hard by a stalker, you becomeveryaware of when an unidentified individual is looking.

Or staring.

Or glaring.

“Light her up!” dramatically announces the male host with a theatrical lifting of his hands.

At that moment, the Christmas lights covering the tree begin illuminating the greenery from the bottom to the top, layer by layer, giving color and magic and life to the holiday symbol.

“It’s beautiful,” leaves me in almost a whisper prompting Nolan to wordlessly rest his head against the side of mine and Kid to lift our joined hands to his lips.

For just a moment, everything around us disappears.

It’s easy to forget about how they were just bickering.

How painful answering coroner questions was.

How much sleep we’re not getting.

For just one…brief…sweet moment…the only thing that truly matters is that we’re here.

Together.

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