Page 9 of Mountain Man's Naughty Elf
"Well?" I asked after she'd hung up.
"Your brother's nice. Much chattier than you."
"Everyone's chattier than me. What did he say?"
She perched on a stool at the counter. "He confirmed everything. Said he's been investigating Nolan for months, but couldn't nail down proof of the embezzlement. The USB drive might be exactly what he needs."
"Good." I crossed my arms. "So when the storm clears, you take the evidence to Rudy, and he handles the rest."
"That's the plan. If Nolan doesn't find me first." She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly looking smaller in my oversized clothes.
"He doesn't know you're here," I reminded her.
"He's persistent. And vindictive."
I didn't doubt that. Men like Wickett—small-town power players with inflated egos—were often the most dangerous when cornered.
"We've got time to figure it out," I said. "Storm's not letting up anytime soon."
Pepper nodded, then straightened, her usual brightness returning. "So what do you normally do during blizzards? Please tell me you have more than military field manuals to read."
"I work. Security consulting. Remote."
"Sounds thrilling."
"It pays the bills."
She looked around the cabin. "Must pay well."
I shrugged. "I don't need much."
"Except solitude, apparently." She slid off the stool. "Well, I should get my costume dried properly. Don't want the evidence getting damaged."
I watched as she gathered her elf outfit from where it had been drying by the fire. Something about seeing her handling the ridiculous outfit while wearing my clothes created an unexpected feeling in my chest. Not quite discomfort, but something equally unfamiliar.
"Storage closet," I found myself saying. "Down the hall past the bathroom. There's a drying rack."
"Thanks." She smiled, heading in that direction.
I turned my attention to cleaning up the remains of breakfast, trying to restore some semblance of order to my kitchen. I had just finished when I heard a crash, followed by Pepper's voice.
"Uh, Pax? You might want to come see this."
Exhaling sharply, I stalked down the hallway. Had she broken something? Set something on fire? With her, both seemed equally possible.
I found her standing in the open doorway of the storage closet, surrounded by several fallen cardboard boxes. At her feet lay a tangle of Christmas lights, ornaments, and what appeared to be an artificial tree stand.
"What happened?" I demanded.
"I was just looking for the drying rack," she said, eyes wide. "These boxes were stacked behind it, and when I pulled the rack out, they kind of...avalanched."
My jaw clenched at the sight of the scattered decorations. "Those aren't mine."
"Then whose are they?"
"Previous owners, I guess." I'd bought the cabin as-is three years ago, after my discharge. Hadn't bothered going through every box in storage.
Pepper knelt, carefully picking up a glass ornament shaped like a pine tree. "These are beautiful. Vintage, I think." She examined another. "This one's dated 1986."
