Page 54 of Dragged Home for Christmas

Mike swallowed.

Six million dollars?

I could pay back everyone who’s contributed.

The hotel would receive a fantastic makeover. Nick’s dream wouldn’t die.

Except Nick’s dream had also involved Mike.

Before he could come up with a response, Jim bounced to his feet.

“It’s not for sale.”

Mike blinked.What the fuck?

Ben arched his eyebrows. “But this is none of your business. This isMike’sproperty, right? So this is Mike’s decision.”

“That’sMr. O’Neillto you,” Sam ground out. “And he isn’t interested.”

“And the hotelwillre-open,” Anthony affirmed. “Butnot as one ofyourproperties.”

Ashley came back into the lobby and walked over to the door.

Mike blinked as Patrick Murphy entered. “Officer? Is there a problem?”

Patrick gave him a puzzled glance. “I hear you folks are the ones with the problem. Ashley said something about someone harassing you?”

Mike gaped at her.You did what?he mouthed.

She shrugged. “False alarm, Pat. Sorry I wasted your time.”

Jim indicated the door. “And we won’t waste any more of yours,Benjamin. Thanks for stopping by, but the answer is still no.” He gazed at Mike. “You’d give him his marching orders too, if you were in full possession of the facts. Which youwillbe, once we’ve had our chat.” He gave Mike a beseeching glance.

What the hell is going on around here?

Mike knew one thing—he trusted his friends.

“Thanks, Ben, but it looks like you’ve had a fruitless visit. Safe trip back to Boston, or wherever it is you came from.”

Ashley gave him a sweet smile. “If you need suggestions of places to go, I might have a few.”

Ben’s eyes glinted, then he drew himself up to his full height. “If you want to have this millstone around your neck, then more fool you.” He strode out onto the lobby.

“Would it be too much to hope for that he slips on the ice and breaks something?” Elliott muttered.

“I vote for his nose,” Jim said with a grin.

Patrick put his hands on his hips. “Ashley, did you just use me to help you get rid of that guy?”

She pinked. “Maybe? What if I promise to make it upto you this evening, when you’re not on duty?”

A flush rose up Patrick’s neck, staining his cheeks. “I guess it was a false alarm after all.” He bit his lip. “Pick you up at six? Dinner at my place?”

She grinned. “I’ll bring my toothbrush and that minty mouthwash you seem to like so much.”

He coughed. “Good day, everyone.” Then he hurried out of the lobby.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Mike turned to face them. “Will one of you tell me what’s going on?”

---