Hoping the night crew was ready to take over, he checked in with Rafe Lopez and stopped in dispatch.
Norah was clearing her desk. “Night, Tom.”
Tom gazed out the window at the bright lights of the hospital. Darkness shrouded the streets. “You go home, too, Norah.”
“Shift change is in a half hour. Jared’s on his way in. Angels walking on Main Street?” She shook her head, laughing silently.
Tom found the humor he couldn’t show in the interrogation room. “You heard Jake say that?”
She nodded and giggled. “I think it fits. Merry Christmas.”
Not angels. Santa’s elves had run amok. Tom sang the lyrics to a favorite Christmas song. “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas, Norah. It’s the best time of the year.”
Could he make the announcement on social media, too?
Chapter Twelve
Leaving Olivia’s house after Christmas Eve family dinner, Summer let Tom help her into his truck. The cab warm, she settled in the heated seat. The man had a habit of caring for others, especially her. It was humbling to be the recipient. On the way home, she gazed at house after house and the twinkling lights – a bright starry tableau. “Your grandmother’s house is still the best, inside and out.”
“It’s mainly the traditions. It’s a soothing constant. Christmas Eve dinner is always my favorite, but I’m glad we skipped church. No offense to this town, but I’ve had enough professional and social interactions to last me to Easter.”
“Me, too. Still worried about Mia?” Summer put her upturned palm on the console between them. He laid a hand over hers.
Tom gave a deep sigh. “She’s still critical. Bret says Jake’s been there as much as her mother will let him.”
Summer squeezed his hand, understanding his disappointment in the girl. “You gave her the room to learn, Tom. It’s necessary and was a gift she could only hope for. In the future, she’ll remember letting you down, will try harder and act differently, and be mindful of how she approaches things. Don’t give up on her.”
“We’ll see.” He turned onto their street, and she released his hand so he could maneuver the truck into the driveway. She’d left their tree lighted in the window. In the dark night, the homecoming filled tender places inside with hope.
His present was burning a hole in her purse, though. She’d framed and wrapped the gift, then hid it in her biggest purse. Tom being such a snoop, there was no other option available. Only she hadn’t figured out how she wanted to giveit to him. Their Christmas tradition floated depending on her schedule and his. Sometimes they opened each other’s presents on Christmas Eve and sometimes on Christmas morning. She couldn’t wait this year. She’d been sneaky long enough.
She considered all the angles and finally gave up. It would happen when it happened. “Are you hungry?”
Tom turned off the truck. “After that dinner? No. I could use some cookies and milk, though.”
“Me, too. I want to give you your presents tonight. Too tired?”
He shook his head. “That’s fine by me.”
She swallowed on a gasp of realization. All this angst over him not guessing her gift when she hadn’t made any attempt to find out what he would give her. She was grateful to be home. Period. She turned her head away to stifle a yawn, but he caught her.
“We can wait until morning.” He got out and came to her door.
She stopped him when he leaned to unfasten her seatbelt. “I want tonight.”
“I guess I owe you. Too many nights I’ve fallen asleep on you.”
She turned to him, shaking her head. “I like knowing you’re right next to me, and I sleep so good because of it. You do, too.”
Tom released the clip on her belt and helped her out. “I like sleeping with you in all its forms. I’m glad its finally night after night.”
“Let’s get ourselves inside, shall we? Beat you to the porch.”
He slammed the truck door, pushed the lock button on the fob and followed her. She streaked up the main sidewalk to the wide front porch, Tom hot behind her. He stopped her at the front door – under a mistletoe that hadn’t been hanging there yesterday.
He turned her to him, pressed an open-mouth kiss to her lips, and proceeded to demolish every boundary between them, leaving her trembling. She broke away with weak knees and a desperate ache deep inside. “You are my everything, Applegate.”
“Same, sweetheart.” Tom lowered to kiss her again, this one short and intense. Their porch was a treasured part of their courtship and marriage. Even though the swing had cracked and a new one had been commissioned from Bart McAuley, the memories warmed.
