Jarrett pulled back and emptied toys and candy from the bag onto the tabletop. “Ah, stocking stuffers.” He picked up an army action figure. “More? There’s already a ton in his toy chest.”
“That’s what he likes. Soldier and cop toys remind him of his father.”
“I’m not surprised Jason wants to follow in Joel’s footsteps. Dad’s happy about that, right?”
She flipped through a superhero coloring book. “Harold knows not to push him in that direction. Jason will do whatever he wants with his life, no outside help required.”
“Good.” Jarrett frowned at the family picture on the fireplace mantel. “Joel should be here with you, going through the gifts, but I’m happy to do it for him.”
“We have to tell Jason about us and get your things from San Francisco. You can’t stay in the guestroom forever.”
“I’m not moving until Consuelo is behind bars. The court trial will likely be a media circus, and I don’t want reporters stalking you. We can’t tell anyone we’re a couple—not yet.”
“Fine.” She tossed the book back with the other toys. “Once you move in, I’ll have to take down Joel’s pictures. That will hurt Jason, though.”
“You shouldn’t take them down.” He grasped her hands as tears filled her eyes. “Marissa, I don’t want to replace him. My brother meant a lot to both of us. Jason should see me as a stepfather, not his dad, no matter how much I want it.”
“If I had married someone you didn’t know, would you want that stranger’s photos all over your home? Would you want to see his face every day? Of course not. I wouldn’t appreciate it if you waved photos of past girlfriends in my face.”
He skimmed his lips across her creased brow. “I understand, but I see his face every time I look in a mirror. We should mingle new pictures of us and Jason with pictures of Joel.”
“If you’re sure?”
“I am.” He kissed her. Her throaty groan flared the desire already whipping through him. Shit. He couldn’t do this, not here. He stepped away and locked his hands behind his back. If Jason ran down the stairs thinking he heard Santa and caught Jarrett with his tongue down Marissa’s throat...well, hell. What would the boy do? No way would he risk upsetting him, especially on Christmas Eve. As Marissa blinked her dazed eyes, he cocked his head at the tree. “I wish I’d gotten Jason something.”
He’d spent every day at Marissa’s house, except for visiting his parents the previous night for dinner. Why hadn’t he thought about going to a store?
“You’re more than welcome to claim a few of the gifts under the tree. He won’t know you didn’t pick them out.”
“No thanks. I don’t want to lie to him.”
“All right, but the best thing you can give him is yourself.” She pecked his chin.
He grabbed a few action figures and stuffed them into the large red stocking that dangled from the mantel. As Marissa added her armful of candies and toys to the stocking, he leaned against the windowsill and pulled back the blinds. The flurries drifting in the glow of streetlamps dazzled like diamonds on a dark canvas. Colorful lights decorated the porches of every house on the street—except for Marissa’s. He’d remedy that next year and maybe add an inflatable Santa Claus and a couple of reindeer to the yard as well.
Something rustled in the row of lofty hedges that separated Marissa’s property from a neighbor’s. Tension knotted his back. Instinct drove his hand to the semi-automatic weapon he always wore at his hip, but he grabbed air instead. Shit. His gun was upstairs in his duffel bag. He scanned the hedges until another slight rustle centered his gaze. The outline of a person standing against snow-caked greenery in arctic camouflage spiked his heart rate.
“Jarrett, what’s wrong?” Marissa wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“Nothing.” The blinds swished back into place as he twisted from her embrace. “Wait here. I’m going outside to check.”
She frowned. “You’re barefoot. What about your jacket?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He hurried from the room and cracked open the front door. “Lock up behind me.” He stepped outside and cursed. Instant cold slammed into him like a wall of ice. The snow covering the porch stung his feet like needles. After the lock mechanism in the door handle clicked into place, he wrapped his arms around his chest and hurried down the porch steps. Oh, fuck. That was cold. He sunk a little in the snow. Flurries moistened his disheveled hair, and the wind burned his skin. His eyes stung and bones ached. Icy air sliced down his throat and filled his lungs like shards of glass.
A revving engine disrupted the silent night. Tires squealed.
He trudged toward the hedges. His shirt and jeans were so thin he might as well be naked. His teeth chattered so hard the tendon in his neck hurt. Snow covered the greenery in thick layers except for a spot in the middle of the row. Dark twigs poked out as if someone brushed the snow aside. He knelt beside a pair of footprints. A man’s boot—size eleven, maybe? He followed the prints down the yard to the sidewalk. The falling snow thickened, filling in the footprints and obscuring his vision. No way would he find the tire tracks where the vehicle sped away from.
He checked the perimeter of the house. There! Someone had disturbed the snow bordering the fence that enclosed the backyard. He hopped over the plank fence and followed the faint tracks to the large oak tree in the middle of the yard. His heart pounded faster. The blinds were up in Marissa’s bedroom. Had the trespasser watched him and Marissa make love? The burst of heat flooding his cheeks cooled as he stomped back around the house and plodded up the porch stairs. His knees weakened, his throbbing feet slipping out from underneath him. He clutched the rail as the screen door slammed back against the siding.
Marissa jerked him inside. “You’re a damn fool. We have to get you in the shower.” She locked up after them and pulled him down the hall.
“I-I don’t mi-mind that.” Too bad he didn’t have the strength to play with her in the shower. He tugged his arm away from her. “S-someone was...” He swallowed hard and grasped the handrail of the staircase to keep steady. “Someone was watching us.”
She gasped and covered her chest as if still naked. “A hitman?”
“P-possibly. Consuelo put the word out for anyone to take me down. Whoever that man was, h-he was probably casing the area. He m-must have connections out the ass to get through all that red tape so soon. Anyway, he’s gone. I-I need to make a phone call.”
