Our First Christmas Read Free Page A

have the reserves to deal with him tonight.” She glanced at her watch. Twenty-nine minutes. She’d never make it to the store in time. “And like I said, toys for my brothers. The shopkeeper is closing up tonight and won’t reopen until after the holidays.”
    â€œWhat’s the address?”
    â€œIt’s on North Highway. I’m not going to make it.”
    â€œI know the place. I can get you there.”
    â€œYou?”
    â€œYeah, but you are going to owe me. Toys first. Code second.” Not a question. A done deal.
    â€œSure, why not.” The puzzle was a reason to avoid her empty home and the boxes crammed with memories. “But this is just about the code.”
    A staggering power radiated behind those gray eyes. “Sure.”
    Stubbornness had her wrestling for the control that remained out of reach. “As soon as I get those toy trucks.”
    â€œBest if I drive. And I’m parked right out front. We’ll get there faster. Wait right here.”
    â€œSure.” The chill cut through her jacket as she moved toward the SUV. Lucas opened her door, and she slid inside. As he crossed in front of the truck, he pulled his phone from his jacket and spoke quickly before ending the call. He tossed his hat in the backseat and slid behind the wheel. He smelled of fresh air and the faintest hint of soap, scents that had clung to her skin as she’d driven back to the jungle alone.
    He put the car in gear and flipped on the lights. “Hold on.” When he gunned the engine, she grabbed hold of the door. He wove in and out of the streets as if he’d lived in the area all his life. Soon they were headed north.
    On any given day she loved the silence, but now it weighed heavy and awkward.
    Lucas broke it with, “How did your dig go in Mexico?”
    â€œYou’ve been asking around about me?”
    â€œFor months. No one in Mexico could quite figure out where you were in the jungle.”
    â€œThat’s the idea. Keep the dig location a secret.” She folded her arms. “You never mentioned you were looking for me in Merida.”
    â€œI was looking for Dr. M. E. Thompson. Not a woman wearing a white dress in a café.”
    Her cheeks warmed. “Did you know who I was in the café?”
    â€œNo. Like I said, you didn’t look like a professor of ancient languages. And you never mentioned your work at dinner.”
    â€œToo many people think the Mayan ruins are stocked with gold. I didn’t need any unnecessary trouble.” She glared at him.
    â€œYou thought I was trouble?”
    No. Not then. “You never know who’s listening.” She tilted her chin up. “And what does a professor of ancient languages look like?”
    He tossed her a look. “That was a compliment.”
    She’d heard enough about the stereotypes to know what he must have imagined when he’d gone looking for her. “When did you put the pieces together?”
    â€œAfter you left.”
    â€œNot much of a detective.”
    He tightened his grip on the wheel. “I found you, didn’t I?”
    She dropped her head back against the seat. Could this Christmas season get any worse?
    She didn’t know what to say, so she kept silent. Lights from cars and buildings whisked past.
    â€œWord is, you have a major find on your hands,” he said.
    No one wanted the blow-by-blow of her findings. Too many times, she witnessed eyes glazing over after she launched into a detailed description. “Bits and pieces. I’m hoping to string it into something worthwhile.”
    Ahead, she spotted the lights of the toy store sign, and soon he’d parked in front. Inside, she saw the clerk waiting, two bags on the counter.
    â€œI’ll be right back,” she said.
    â€œI’ll be waiting.”
    Disregarding the meaning humming under his words, she dashed into the store. Bells jingled over her head as she