Page 91 of The Thief Who Saved Christmas

“What’s in Richmond? If you’re trying to sell me into sex trafficking, Ryan and Anabelle are both here as witnesses.”

“My cousin’s best friend’s girlfriend is in Richmond. And she works in a five-star hair salon.”

Cynthia darts a quick look at me before turning back to him. “Ryan told you.”

Jeremy’s lips twitch. “Sure, but I have eyes. I was going to find out. I took the day off so I could take you.”

Anabelle is on the other side of the table, but her hand finds mine under the surface. She links our fingers together and squeezes, her face exuding happiness, and I feel like I’ve done right. I didn’t do it just for her, but I definitely wanted to please her.

“I don’t know,” Cynthia says, drawing our attention. She turns to us with a quizzical glance. “I said I’d go to the toy store with you guys this afternoon to pretend to hit on Ryan.”

“That’s okay,” Anabelle says, squeezing my hand again. “I’ll hit on him enough for both of us.”

Cynthia nods and finally gets up. “Thank you, Jeremy.” She releases a sigh. “This is definitely going to bite me in the ass, but I’ll admit to you once, and only once, that you were right.”

He gives her a smug grin. “This is the best day of my life. You both heard it,” he says, pointing at Anabelle and then at me. “I have witnesses.”

“Witnesses to you being a jackass, yeah,” Cynthia says, but she’s smiling softly at him, and I have no doubt my buddy is going to get himself a date.

They leave together, Anabelle and me watching them. The moment they disappear from view, she leans forward and kisses me across the table.

I grin at her. “What’d I do to earn that?”

“You helped Cynthia. You made my friend very happy.” She leans forward again, kissing me more thoroughly before sitting back.

“And that time?”

She smiles at me. “That one was for me. You makemevery happy, Ryan. Do you want to go practice yourho ho hofor a while before Joe wakes up?”

“Yes, Anabelle. Yes, I do.”

“Because I have something for you. Wait right here.”

“Can I move an inch or two? Or do you want me to sit in exactly this spot?”

She smiles and gives anOh Ryanshake of her head. “Exactly that spot.”

So I stay put, but my foot pats the floor and my fingers tap the table. What’s she doing? Is it too much to hope she’s going to come down in a negligee? Probably. And I also don’t want the two guests who are here to see her like that.

Finally, she steps through the door with a big gift bag tucked behind her back.

“That’s for me?” I ask, feeling even more jittery. Excited, but also…the last woman who gave me a gift, that sweater Anabelle likes so much, dumped me right afterward.

“It’s for you.” She hands it over, and I get right to it, opening it up and pulling out a Santa costume far superior to the one I bought on discount.

I glance up at her, pleased as hell. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, I wanted to.”

I tug on one end of the red ribbon at her neck, and she’s smiling as she leans in to kiss me. She gasps into my mouth when I pull her onto my lap, her legs straddling my thigh. “I think I’d like it if you were on the naughty list,” I say.

I don’t know what sight is better—Anabelle gasping with pleasure or Anabelle bashful and sweet. I’d rather not choose, because I’d like them both. I want all of the Anabelles.

“Ifeellike a naughty girl,” she says, grinding against me just enough to drive me nuts.

“Tell the truth, did you wear that shirt because I gave you a hickey?”

“Yes,” she says, and then delights the hell out of me by pulling down the neck of her sweater. “And I think it’s past time for you to give me another one.”

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