Up the Chimney Page 3
Two minutes morphed into five which clued her in on how much she’d come to care for Mason Holt over the past two years. How painful it would be to release the hopes she’d secretly harbored for more from him. She dug deep for determination to retain a strictly professional relationship.
Listening to Darla talk endlessly about those damn flowers and “her” Mason would make for an endless day, too. But Ciera couldn’t just walk away from her job, pretending she was suddenly sick. She loved what she did, needed the income, and she’d already run away from a more difficult situation. To do so again would set a downward pattern for her life. No, she’d just have to gather her strength, grow a pair, and deal.
And to hell with Mason Holt.
****
Mason paced his office waiting for someone to answer at the incompetent florist shop that had created the debacle he’d just lived through. His gaze swept to the three slices of homemade pumpkin roll on his desk. Ciera baked for him. And what had happened? She’d walked in on a clusterfuck of misunderstandings.
“Rosie’s Blooms. How can I help you?” It was the same woman he’d spoken to yesterday.
“Do you want to tell me how a large Christmas bouquet I ordered for a lady I work with was sent in error to another woman in her office, who now thinks I’m after her? I’m the guy you said you could help by simply writing ‘More than just friends’ on the card. Remember me?”
“Yes, I do. I have your order slip right here, Mr. Holt. My son took care of the card and delivery. I’m sorry if there was a mix-up.”
“Mix-up!” he roared. “The look on the woman’s face I’ve been trying to get next to was one of pain. Pain, dammit! I’ll be freaking lucky if she ever talks to me again. The woman who works with her, and makes flirting a fine art, is all over me like a fly on shit. My whole life is ruined thanks to your incompetent service. No name was on the envelope. Only the department. The card was left blank. Just like my love life’s going to be.”
“Oh dear. I’m so sorry. What can I do to make this up to you?”
“Fill my second order with great care and for free or I’ll never use your shop again.”
He ended the conversation and called Eva Marie. “I’m in a helluva mess and I need your advice.”
She laughed. “Sure. What’s up? Hold on… Jackson, no more cereal. You’ve had two bowls already.”
Mason told her about the flower delivery fiasco and the look of dejection on Ciera’s face.
“You really like this woman.” Eva Marie didn’t ask. She stated it. “This is a first for you.”
“Yeah, sis, I do. The more I try, the more I screw up. She’s still healing from a scandal her ex-husband created, so she’s extra skittish.” He told her about Seth Parker and his arrest for fondling students.
“So when she walked in on that other woman kissing you, it stirred up all the pain of her past. Poor thing. Mason, you need to explain to her and what’s more important, you need to tell Darla that she means nothing to you. Delicately, of course, because she may make things even tougher on Ciera. Some women will downright lie out of pure spite.”
Fuck, he hadn’t thought of that, but he wouldn’t put it past Darla. She didn’t take rejection easily.
“Okay, so how do you suggest I proceed?” Great, I’m reduced to asking my older sister for romantic advice.
After their conversation, he slowly savored every bit of Ciera’s pumpkin roll with cream cheese filling. My God, this is so freaking good. He glanced up from the coroner’s preliminary report and watched her talk to someone who’d called in with an emergency. She nodded as she scooted her chair over to the monitor for emergency services and keyed in whatever the caller told her. Mason leaned back in his chair, coffee cup in hand, and zeroed in on every nuance of emotion on her delicate face as she went about her job.
So Joey Patrick had gotten a taste of her baking, too—the womanizing bastard. He needn’t think he’d get a taste of her lips. Mason sat forward, his forearms across his desk. Those sweet lips of hers belonged to him. She ended the nine-one-one call and proceeded to speak to someone at medical services to confirm an ambulance had been sent to the correct address. Darla was gone. This was a good time to talk to Ciera alone to try to clear the air between them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ciera sensed the moment Mason stepped into the communication’s center. The temperature rose and so did the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. He pulled over a wooden chair, spun it around, straddled it, and sat with his arms crossed over the back. The woodsy cologne he always wore blitzed her nose; she loved the smell. Something else she’d have to learn to dislike.
He was dressed casually today; jeans faded at all the right places and a gray sweatshirt with an Army Airborne insignia stretched across his wide chest. His dragon tattoo was striking. Small, done in a tribal design. She’d often thought of tracing the outline with her fingertip, but that would never happen.
She narrowed her eyes at the gorgeous hunk invading her space. “You wanted something, detective?”
“Several things, actually.” His brown eyes studied her face. “First off, thank you for the homemade treat. It was delicious. Needless to say, I enjoyed every bite.”
“There’s no need to thank me. It was nothing.”
“Don’t say it was ‘nothing,’ baby.” His hand covered hers and when she tried to jerk it back, he held firm. “There was a huge mistake at the flower shop yesterday. I ordered that arrangement for you, not Darla.”
Did he think she was an idiot? “Really?” She dragged the word out into three long disbelieving syllables.
“After our kiss—”
She slid her hand free from his grasp and crossed her arms, mainly to keep from belting him. “Your kiss, not ours.” His eyes narrowed and she mentally dared him to show her some attitude. By damn, she would show him her right hook. He’d find out what a fire-breathing dragon looked like!
He exhaled a slow breath. “After the kiss, I called the florist and ordered you the arrangement. I asked that ‘More than just friends’ be written on the card. Not only didn’t the delivery guy do that, he didn’t put your name on the envelope, just the Communication Center at the Willow Bend Police Department.
“Naturally Darla and her inflated opinion of herself figured they were for her. And the blank card only fueled her ego trip. When I came into work this morning and saw the flowers were on her desk and not yours, I walked over to read the delivery envelope and card. That’s when she walked in and asked if I’d sent them. When I said I had, she kissed me before I had a chance in hell to tell her they weren’t for her, but for you.”
So, this was his version of “I can explain.” She took a sip of coffee and glared at him. “Just how long did it take you to come up with that likely story?”
Mason’s eyes darkened and narrowed on hers. His lips formed a thin line. She’d pissed him off. Well, wasn’t that just too bad? Thank God, the emergency phone system rang. Her gaze left his annoyed face and locked on her equipment. “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“This discussion’s not over.” Mason stood, swung the chair around to its original spot, and stalked out.
Darla finally returned to her work station, subdued and preoccupied. She didn’t brag once about her flowers although she did remove one of the white roses from the arrangement and held it to her nose as she stared off.
Ciera was munching on carrot sticks and cauliflower when Mason’s door banged open and a man yelled, “You, motherfucker!” She whirled her chair around in time to see a fireman leap across the detective’s orderly desk and grab Mason by his throat, tipping his chair over.
Darla jumped from her seat. “Oh, Chase! No! Don’t!” She ran into Mason’s office to pull apart two fighting bulls.
Ciera jerked off her earpiece and stood to get a better view of the cock fight. The fireman had struck Mason, and Mason repaid with jabs and punches of his own. It was like a free-for-all! And Darla was right in the middle of
all the drama, looking quite pleased. Ciera planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. So much for office professionalism.
Chase wiped blood from his mouth. “You stay the fuck away from my girl. Darla and I have been dating for two months. Send your fancy flowers to someone else. How do you think I felt when news started traveling through the department some big shot detective was sniffing around my woman?”
Mason extended both hands. “Hey, I had no clue. I don’t poach on any man’s farm. If she’s yours, I’ll keep my distance. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
The fireman grabbed Darla to his side. “You damn well better. I’ll cut you some slack so long as we understand each other. But you come near her again, you bastard, and I’ll be back.”
Mason smiled. “Believe me, you don’t have a thing to worry about. In fact you did me a favor by coming here and talking to me about this. Now I know not to waste my time.” He extended his hand. “No hard feelings?”
After a moment, Chase shook Mason’s hand. “Not as long as you stay the hell away from her.”
“Hey, she’s all yours.”
The fireman nodded once and laid a possessive kiss on Darla, who kept looking from one man to the other as if she wasn’t sure she was a hundred percent happy with the outcome of the fight. Chase walked her out of the detective’s office.
To Ciera’s surprise, Mason gave a fist pump. What was up with that? Could some of what he’d said to her earlier be true?
Chase backed Darla against the wall of the communication area and the two whispered. He declared to Darla that she was his. Now, if only she believed it, but from what Ciera knew of Darla, the woman loved to flirt. It was almost an addiction for her. Ciera couldn’t imagine the famed Double-D becoming a one man woman—not for long.
A delivery man walked around the couple, his gaze on them. His hands full of a gorgeous arrangement in a white wooden sleigh filled with red roses, sprigs of pine, and small silver bells. He glanced at Ciera and winked. “Where can I get a job like that? I’m looking for Ciera Parker.”
“That’s me.” She accepted the roses inhaling their fragrance. There was only one person they could be from and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about accepting the bouquet. The delivery guy walked past Darla and Chase on his way out. They were lost in their private world, whispering and kissing.
Ciera shot the amorous couple an annoyed glare. Didn’t they have jobs to do? She opened the envelope on the plastic card holder in the flowers after she set them by her main monitor. “More than just friends, baby. I’m sorry for the earlier mix-up. Mason.” She slipped the card into the back pocket of her jeans—an out of sight, out of mind gesture.
An emergency call came in taking Ciera’s attention from the flowers and card. She was dispatching police to the scene of a fender-bender when she realized she kept sniffing and touching her flowers like some dreamy-eyed teenager. She needed to get a grip and pay attention to her job.
The fireman finally pried himself from Darla’s lips and went back to the fire station. Shortly afterward, Mason stepped into the communications center to sniff at her flowers. She whispered a thank you and he squeezed her hand. “I’ll be gone the rest of the day, checking out some leads on yesterday’s murder.”
“Okay,” Darla chirped as she scrolled through Facebook.
Mason rolled his eyes and placed his lips against Ciera’s ear. “Hell, she thought I was talking to her. Un-freaking-believable.” He shook his head a couple times and walked out. The whole atmosphere of the communication’s center settled into its normal sporadic emergency routine. The rain slick roads of the surrounding hills were causing a lot of accidents. Both Darla and Ciera stayed busy the rest of the afternoon with calls from people needing help.
Ciera found it interesting that while Darla glanced at her beautiful painted sleigh arrangement of roses, she never once asked who they were from. Surely she wasn’t jealous.
When Juanita came in for her shift, Ciera nearly hugged the woman. The almost constant calls the last few hours had her shoulder muscles tensed into knots. Juanita unbuttoned her coat. “Girls, I hit a patch of black ice on my way here. Holy hell! My car spun around twice. Scared me so bad I nearly peed my pants. You two be careful going home. Drive slowly.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Ciera slipped into her coat, reaching for her umbrella and bag. She carefully placed her flowers in her bag.
It didn’t take long for Juanita to zero in on them. “Who are they from? They’re gorgeous.” She sat and placed her soda on the counter next to her keyboard.
Ciera leaned over the bag as if to make sure the arrangement was situated safely in the bag. “Mason,” she whispered. Juanita’s eyebrows rose. “He claimed the other arrangement was for me too, but I’m not sure I can believe him.”
“Huh. It’s hard for you to trust a man, isn’t it? You said you were divorced, but never told me how painful it was for you. Maybe it’s time to move on,” she whispered in reply.
“How do you know when a man is trustworthy?”
Juanita stood and hugged her. “You’ll find him. Who knows, Mr. Right might be closer than you think. Mason’s a good man. Not as good as my Esteban, now.” She smiled and fingered one of the diamond studs he’d given her for their twenty-fifth anniversary. “I’d trust Esteban with my life. We cherish each other. Each year seems to bring us closer.”
Darla moved out of her chair so Larry could take her place. She leaned a rounded hip next to Juanita and began to recant the fight between her fireman and Mason. How Mason had tried to break them up. Juanita slid her eyes to Ciera as if to say ain’t-this-some-shit?
“I’m out of here. Larry, Juanita, have a good night. Darla, take care driving home. Thank God I’m off the next day and a half. Juanita, I’ll be in early to cover the final half your shift. I won’t forget.” Ciera jogged down the steps and strode the long corridor to the front doors. Before she stepped outside, she removed her keys from her purse.
Blinking, multi-colored lights draped around the shrubbery and an illuminated Santa on a sleigh brightened the front of the building. Someone had spread de-icer on the sidewalks, but once she hit the parking lot proper, she slipped a little. The day-long rain had turned to sleet, dancing a pitter-patter sound on her umbrella. She snuggled deeper into her coat, pressing the collar to the back of her neck. Driving home might be a bear. She stopped walking. Someone leaned against her Land Rover. A man, legs spread, arms folded, a dark ball cap tugged low over his face.
Her heart beat a faster tempo. Should she turn and go back inside? She glanced over her shoulder to judge the distance. Or close her umbrella and use its long pointed tip as a weapon? If someone was out to hurt her, he had to be seriously deranged or damned ballsy to do it in the police department’s parking lot.
He pushed off her vehicle and swaggered toward her. Mason. No one had that self-assured stride, but him. She exhaled a breath of relief. Him she could handle, even if he was seriously deranged and damned ballsy.
“I’m sorry, did I frighten you?” He slipped an arm around her shoulders and took the umbrella from her hand, holding it over her head as they walked toward her car. “I was waiting on you. Hoping I could convince you to have dinner with me. I owe you for the treat you brought me this morning. It says so in the rule books. A sweet lady bakes for you, then you take her out to dinner. What could you eat?”
He plowed on with his monologue evidently so she wouldn’t have a chance to refuse. “The roads are getting bad, I suggest someplace close to your house so you won’t have far to drive. I’ll follow in my car.” He finally released his hold on her shoulders and held out an open palm. “Keys?”
“I can open my own door.” She pressed the key fob and her lock beeped open. Backing against the driver’s door, she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You confuse me, Mason. You send flowers to Darla, then to me. Did you order mine before you found out she has a boyfriend? Or after? Do you think I’ll jump at the chance to be you
r number two pick at work?”
He stepped closer so their thighs touched and her girly bits came alive. “No. I did not send her flowers. I sent them to you. Look, I explained all that.” His hand rose to cup her face, his thumb brushed over her lower lip, and her lips parted. “For the record, I ordered the second arrangement this morning when I called the flower shop to raise hell about their mistake. As for Darla having a boyfriend, I could give a fuck. She does nothing for me. The woman’s not my type. You, on the other hand, most definitely are.” He took her bag of flowers from her and set them on the back seat of her car.
An unreasonable panic seized her. Dear Lord, she was so attracted to this man and it scared her to death. “I won’t play second best to her or anyone. I’ve done that before and it was pure hell.”
“Dammit, Ciera, I hope that man was worth it.”
“What man? My ex-husband?”
“Whoever made you feel that you were less than the intelligent, kind-hearted, beautiful woman I know you to be. Is he worth your avoiding anyone who wants to show you how important you are? To give you attention? Affection? Are you going to allow him to control you and your feelings forever? Life with the right man, a man who cherishes you, could be so much better than it ever was with him.”
His head lowered until his lips were a whispered breath away from hers. “You’d never be second in my life, sweetheart. Not to Darla. Not to any other woman.” His lips captured Ciera’s. They were cold from the sleet, yet warm from the heat he generated. His mustache and beard created an arousing friction. The tongue he brushed across her lips as an unspoken command to open hers was hot with passion and something within her yearned for more. His tongue swept across the surface of her tongue sending moisture to her panties. But when it slowly skimmed the roof of her mouth and teased the sensitive skin between her upper teeth and lip, she nearly slid down the side of her SUV. He bit her lower lip and soothed it with his tongue. Slowly he was acquainting himself with every part of her mouth. It was a leisurely exploration he obviously had no intention of speeding up or ending anytime soon.