Santa to the Rescue Read Free Page B

sense of purpose and he’d dedicate every day to his tasks.
    Jamey touched the swell of his pectoral muscles and considered a second tattoo. Maybe he’d get one on his chest to celebrate the end of his probationary period at Appleton. He slapped his stomach to check that he wasn’t getting soft. Some of the guys let their six-packs turn to kegs, but he swore he never would. That gym membership would be renewed every year until he got too old to lift a barbell or complete a sit-up.
    Jamey took off his shoes and socks, slid his boxers to the floor, and crawled naked into bed.
    When he woke several hours later, he found a message on his phone from Heather. Coffee sounds good. I look forward to seeing you again.
    Jamey sent her a quick text to confirm the meeting. A grin spread over his face as he got dressed and headed to his kitchen to rustle up some dinner.

Chapter Two
    Jamey stood inside the café, not far from the door, and spotted Heather approaching the entrance. The air she breathed turned to frosty little gusts until she stepped across the threshold. A Holly, Jolly Christmas played in the background.
    He thought Heather looked great in scrubs, but nearly came undone at the sight of her in painted-on jeans and killer heels. Her ponytail had been replaced with long tendrils of shining blond curls that cascaded to the center of her back. Her blue eyes shone when she spied him waiting for her. She smiled and became a vision, like a Christmas angel.
    How the hell did he get so lucky?
    He smiled back, not hiding his pleasure at seeing her again. There was no use pretending she hadn’t almost knocked him out. A woman deserved to be appreciated.
    Jamey didn’t know when Americans replaced handshakes with hugs as the official greeting, but the moment Heather wrapped her arms around him to say hello, he welcomed the practice. He’d never been much of a hugger, but Heather’s warmth against him—the feel of her soft breasts against his jacket, the scent of strawberries in her hair—changed his outlook in an instant.
    He hugged her back, resisting the primal urge to pull her close, tilt her chin up, and kiss her senseless. Images of her naked in his arms flashed through his brain, her long hair trailing over creamy skin while he dragged his tongue down the column of her throat. He let her go and stepped back, glad for the coat he wore like protective armor. The song All I Want For Christmas filled the air.
    “Hey.” That wasn’t the greeting he intended, but was all he could muster. He regained control and said, “Let’s find a table.”
    While he ordered their hot drinks at the counter, she waited at a corner table, smiling across the room at him while maintaining eye contact. His heart lifted. She liked him. If she found him half as attractive as he found her, they’d gotten off to a good start. All he wanted to do now was prove he wasn’t a jerk.
    He’d heard his sisters talk about men, how most of them weren’t worth crying over, though they’d cried their share. Their broken hearts made him want to bust a few heads. He’d sworn he’d never hurt a woman on purpose.
    His father had treated his mother like a rare jewel all their married life, and she seemed to love him back something fierce. His grandparents had been happily married for sixty years. Jamey wanted that for himself and his wife one day. He’d seen happily ever after with his own eyes and knew true love wasn’t a myth.
    Those were things he would never speak of out loud, of course. The guys at the firehouse wouldn’t look at him the same way again if he did. Men didn’t talk about love, they talked about sex. They bragged and put each other down to secure their places in the pecking order. They pretended not to have feelings. But Jamey knew better. Not having feelings and not talking about them were two entirely different things.
    He made his way back to the café table, carrying a tray with Heather’s cappuccino and his dark roast, along