Her Holiday Secret. Jennifer Greene
exterior. Whether she wants to know all the safety features ahead, or that’s just not a concern. How much power turns her on—or off. Whether she likes a slow, steady acceleration or a fast, rough ride.”
“Whew.” Maggie zipped up her jacket and propped her hands on her hips. “That lazy, country boy drawl is really good, Gautier. For a minute there, I almost believed you were talking about cars.”
“I was, I was.”
“Uh-huh. And cats fly. For the record, I don’t look under anybody’s hood on a first date. On the other hand...” Maggie threaded on gloves as she hiked past him. “I think you’ve got a valid theory going. I’d rather do this than the out-to-dinner thing any time—for your sake, really. If by some remote chance you can survive car shopping with me, the future probably stretches in front of us with limitless possibilities. At the very least, you’ll unquestionably earn hero status, sainthood, a couple medals for courage...”
“A drink when this is over?”
“That, too.”
“Well, hell. Let’s go find you a chariot, ma’am, and get that little chore over with.”
By the time they were belted in his dark car and winging down the road, Andy had conquered the urge to kiss her. Actually, the marvel wasn’t that he’d behaved himself. Hell, he always behaved himself—unless invited otherwise. But he wasn’t expecting the power of that temptation. A divorce gave any man an instant Ph.D. in caution.
And he felt cautious with Maggie. The problem with fireworks was that they fizzled out so fast. A light show. Then phfft. So he’d logically figured out that magical redhot sexual pull would settle down if he just saw her, spent some time with her again. Sizzle mattered. Sizzle was nice—deliriously nice, in her case. But Andy was wary of letting his hormones get in a dither before finding out if they had the kind of charge between them that counted.
That was the theory. A double-dose dither had turned out to be the reality. One look at those fading, vulnerable bruises and his first instinct was to pull her into his arms. One look at that soft red mouth connected directly to a hot wire in his groin. The way she cocked her chin, the swish of silken hair framing her face, the gutsy pride in the way she stood, the sparkle and devil in her eyes...hell, there was no one detail that heated his hormones to a bubbling simmer. It was just her. The whole package. No woman had tangled his nerves up like this in a long, long time. He couldn’t stop wondering if she’d take all that sparkle and devil and honesty with her under the sheets. Under his sheets.
Cars, he thought.
He needed to keep his mind on cars.
“A lot of people out tonight,” Maggie remarked.
“Yeah. The early Christmas shopping crowd, I’m guessing.” His windshield wipers fretfully scraped a haphazard splash of snow. Main Street was well lit, but he could see pedestrians slip-and-sliding. The roads were icy slick and the temperature was pushing a mean subzero. Andy doubted most people would normally choose this season or time of day to car shop, but most people didn’t see any accidents the way a cop did. Personally he thought it was an ideal time to test the mettle of any vehicle. “So...are you ready to get down to brass tacks? We’ve got three car dealerships in Silver Township. Probably help if you’d give me a clue what you’re looking for.”
“Something that starts in winter and doesn’t give me any trouble.”
“Okay. That only limits it to about five thousand models. Anything just a little more specific on your wish list?”
“Well...if it can’t behave on snow and rough back roads, it’s no good to me. And I need some room. Like space for skis in the winter, backpacks and tents in the summer. The car that was totalled in the accident? It was new. It was pretty. It had cream upholstery. It was the dumbest thing I could possibly have bought, for me.”
“So you need more of a practical, utility vehicle. Sturdy, four-wheel drive, dual brakes...lots of good choices we can look at in that ballpark. Now to the dicier questions. I don’t want to pry. But before we get near a car salesman, it’d help if you gave me a ceiling and a general idea what your price range is.”
She chuckled. “Money isn’t a problem, Andy. I can handle that part.”
He heard the chuckle, but he also caught the teensy stiffening in her shoulders. Oops, best not go down that road, he thought dryly.
But as they drove into the first car dealership, he felt increasingly relaxed. He was pretty sure how this was going to go. Not that he knew Maggie so well, but certain things just seemed obvious. She had a couple tons of pride and a big thing about independence. Ergo, it was tough for her to admit to a weakness, and if she’d been bamboozled on price or mechanics or a bad car choice before, it was just natural that she’d be a little prickly.
Like any lawman in a small town, Andy knew the business owners on a first-name basis. He was with her, so she wasn’t gonna get bamboozled this time. He just had to be careful to help her out in an unobtrusive, tactful way. And the second ingredient Andy figured he needed to make this venture go smoothly was a couple buckets of patience.
Maggie was, after all, female. And even a bad marriage could teach a guy certain things. Shopping with women for anything was like trying to communicate with an alien species. They needed time. They needed to compare. They needed space to be indecisive. They took forty years to make up their minds on anything.
Blazing white neon lights illuminated a half acre of cars. Andy stepped out and plastered on his soul-ofpatience smile. No guy she’d ever been with—and for damn sure no guy she’d ever kissed—was ever gonna be as patient as he was.
Cut and dried.
Harvey Lyman barrelled out of the building the instant he saw them climbing out of Andy’s car. “Hi there, folks!” Harvey had a fluff of white hair, cheeks like apples and a gut like a watermelon—four weeks from now he’d be playing Santa, and God knew he had a face that could inspire trust in the unsuspecting. His smile sagged a good half inch when he recognized Andy.
“Good to see you, Sheriff Gautier.” They pumped hands, did the obligatory how’s your dad, isn’t this snow something small talk routine. “So what can I do for you? You’re looking at cars?”
“I brought a friend. She’s looking. Just looking tonight, but....” Andy half turned to introduce Maggie, and found her gone. No tea-brown bobbing head anywhere, no puffy down-filled green jacket that matched her eyes, no nothing.
Harvey was chugging steam by the time they caught up with her. Maggie had just finished circling a sporty white utility vehicle with a dark gray interior. She lifted her face in a smile when she saw Andy. “This’ll do,” she announced.
“Yeah, I think that’s one of the good choices that’d work for you, but...” But he assumed she was kidding.
She wasn’t kidding.
There were dozens of other cars to check out, and they hadn’t even strolled through the other dealerships. She hadn’t sat behind the wheel. He strongly suspected she hadn’t even glanced at the sticker price.
Harvey could smell a sucker at fifty paces, but even he had to choke out a suggestion that she must want to look around. No dice. Maggie patted the big car’s rump. “Really, this fits the bill. Right size. Colors I can live with. I don’t see any reason not to just get this over with—”
Harvey was in danger of an imminent heart attack. He’d probably never smelled such an easy sales commission in his entire thirty years in the business. Still, he managed to puff out, “You’re making a brilliant choice, a fine vehicle, dependable—”
“Shut up, Harvey. Maggie, you’re not buying a car you haven’t even sat in.” Harvey produced the keys faster than a finger snap. She climbed in, sat down, climbed back out again.
“Okay. Feels good. Now can we just get this over with? Where do I pay?”
Harvey