Christmas Kisses

10. Christian

10

CHRISTIAN

“ I ’m sorry, but in the state of Florida, criminal trespass is defined as the willful entry into or remaining upon property without the express or implied permission of the owner.” The gorgeous brunette, who arrived with a male partner, lowers her tone sympathetically. “Although you refunded his Airbnb payment, the verbal agreement you reached prior to the transfer of funds makes this a consensual agreement.”

I signed up for an Airbnb account purely because my contact with the Florida Residency Commission made it clear I wouldn’t last a day in this town without some sort of legality behind my wish to stay.

Supposedly Ravenshoe isn’t run by the mayor and his minions. It is dominated by a hotshot billionaire named Isaac Holt.

His name has been tossed around more times than I can count over the past few months. Every reference was positive except one.

Mrs. Richler was quick to shoot down my attempt to bring him up. She made out she’d never met the guy.

She lied through her teeth as often as she did when I queried about her removing Angel’s possessions without her permission last night.

I can sniff a rat from a mile out. Mrs. Richler’s stench was so foul that I blame her for Angel’s demand for me to shower last night.

“But…” When Angel realizes she has no leg to stand on, she doubles the jealousy sluicing my veins by shifting her attention to Officer Holt’s male partner and batting her lashes at him. He was cocky before she flirted with him. Now he is downright arrogant. “Ryan, please. You can’t expect me to board with a stranger. What if he’s a serial killer?”

Ryan joins us in the living room, his swagger mimicking an officer with over a decade in the service. “He isn’t. I ran his credentials through the system when dispatch forwarded your call to my unit.”

“Just because he doesn’t have a record doesn’t mean he isn’t a serial killer.”

“That’s true,” Ryan replies to Angel’s commentary, eyeing me up and down. “So I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take him down to PD for a more thorough investigation.” His blue eyes twinkle with mischievousness as he asks, “Will thirty minutes be sufficient to move him on?”

“I’ll take anything you’re willing to offer,” Angel replies, joining Ryan’s stare-off.

The victory slashed across her face drops when I show I don’t just have brawn. I have brains as well. “Am I under arrest?”

“No,” the brunette answers, her one-word reply the length of an entire sentence.

I thank her for her help with a smile before shifting my focus back to the duo, both playing bad cop. “Then I refuse your request for an interview.”

Ryan scoffs. “You can’t deny my request for an interview.”

“I can,” I reply, doubling the redness creeping up Angel’s neck. “And I will continue doing so until you either place me under arrest or show me a court order requesting my attendance at the Ravenshoe Police Department. Even then, your request will only be considered, not guaranteed.”

Ryan is clearly not a man used to hearing no. “Considered? You will consider a court order to attend an interview at Ravenshoe PD.”

“Ryan—”

He cuts off his partner by slicing his hand through the air.

She has more gall than her petite frame announces. “Outside now, Officer Carter.”

Ryan appears shocked by her demand. I’m in fucking awe—and slightly turned on. Not because she’s got the confidence to play in a field prominently referred to as a “man’s world,” but because of her numerous reassurances to Ryan that Angel is not in any danger in my presence.

“We also have nothing on him. At the start of our interview, the claimant stated that she offered for him to stay with her until something more suitable came up.”

You can see the disappointment on Ryan’s face and smell it leaching from his pores, but he still tries to fight. “Then we’ll bring Isaac in on this. He will move him on quickly.”

“He would,” the brunette agrees. “But I don’t think we should involve him with this.”

Ryan stares at his partner as if she’s lost her marbles, and his bewilderment increases the longer she whispers in his ear.

I don’t know what she says to him, but after a lengthy silent debate, he returns to the living room and hands a business card to Angel.

“I’ll place two officers at the front of your building. If he so much as sneezes too loudly, they’ll break down your door and put him in cuffs.” He halts my interruption by holding his finger in the air. “Don’t test my knowledge of the law. There was a big upshift in what is classed as a deadly weapon since March 2019.” He twists to face me. “Or have you forgotten how you weren’t allowed to leave your home in your country unless it was for exercise?” He pffts before returning his eyes to Angel. “I’ve never seen so many poms eager to get fit.”

Angel appears lost for barely a nanosecond. Then her smile turns blinding. “How is our favorite ex-pat Aussie?”

The brunette jumps into the conversation. “She is missed like crazy at Ravenshoe Private but settling into her tree change well.”

She looks set to say more, but a call over the radio shifts her focus. “Officers, please be aware of a 10-64 in progress on the corner of Traite and Edmonds. Multiple units are involved and requesting 10-33.”

“10-4.” She shifts on her feet to face Angel and me before continuing. “This is Officer Isabelle Holt. The 10-62 we were assigned is a 10-24.”

“10-15, what is your ETA?”

Isabelle’s eyes lock with Ryan’s, and she waits for him to nod before she answers, “10-26 is two minutes. We’re one block away.”

The dispatcher officer thanks her for her offer of assistance before the radio crackles into silence.

“We need to go.” Isabelle stores her notepad in her Ravenshoe PD-assigned vest before locking her dark-brown eyes with Angel. “We will have a unit on standby, but if you’re uncomfortable with them being outside, I can ask the security officers downstairs to station themselves closer to your apartment.”

Angel considers her offer for under ten seconds. “It’s okay. I can take care of myself.” She whips out a massive dildo from her box of tricks. “I’m sure this will keep him in line.”

Isabelle doesn’t look the slightest bit intimidated by the size of the wang Angel waves around. She laughs before reminding Angel of Ryan’s earlier reference about dangerous weapons. “Armed with intent to cause harm could be valid in this situation.” She looks at me and winks. “Unless he once again seeks inconspicuous consent. Then you’ll be in the clear.”

“That thing isn’t coming near me,” I reply before a single thought can formulate in Angel’s head. “Consent is not given.” When the officers walk to the door, leaving me defenseless to a woman set for revenge and a box overloaded with gigantic life-size dicks, I follow them. “Did you hear what I said? Consent is NOT given.”

“Did you hear something?” Isabelle asks Ryan, doubling his shit-eating grin.

He shakes his head. “Not a damn word.”

“I said consent isn’t given.”

As Ryan twists to face me, he acts as if I didn’t speak. “Damn cicadas. They’re almost deafening at this time of the year. And a little daft.” I follow his amused gaze when he lowers his eyes to the tip of my shoe creeping over the tiles separating Angel’s apartment from the hallway. “Are you sure you want to do that? The instant you leave the premises, we could construe that you’re declining Angel’s offer of lodging.”

“What the hell, Ryan?” Angel shouts when his warning sees me stepping back from the opening of her apartment. “I thought you were on my side.”

“I am,” he replies, grinning. “But I think Izzy is right.” His chest puffs like a rooster. “Sometimes we need a little push to send us in the right direction.” His eyes flare with viciousness as he strays them to Isabelle. “Why do you think I rile Isaac so hard?”

“Because you have a death wish?” Isabelle answers on Angel’s behalf.

“Perhaps,” Ryan agrees, continuing down the hall. “But don’t act like you’re not getting any benefits from my?—”

Their conversation is interrupted by them entering the elevator and riding it to the lobby.

Since we’re alone, the burn of Angel’s glare is unmissable.

She’s pissed, and it takes everything she has not to respond with violence.

“If I hadn’t already sold these, this”—even in a box, the dildo’s wobbles are unmissable—“would be so far in your fourth hole right now.”

What the fuck?

The fourth hole belongs to me?