The Spy Who Came For Christmas(15)

Matthew’s smile faltered. “She is.” He glanced toward the darkened shop.

“That your girl?” Tell me about her. Tell me everything.

“No.” Matthew’s smile was definitely gone now. “No, she isn’t my girl.”

He quickly held up his hands. “Sorry, man! Didn’t mean to say the wrong thing.”

But Matthew shook his head. “You didn’t. My fault.” He rolled back his shoulders. “I should be going.”

You are not helping me, buddy. Not at all. “Want me to buy you a drink?” he said quickly. Maybe that would make the guy talk—and get him to reveal more about the cute little chocolatier.

“Not for me. I screwed up with Jemma, but I won’t be making that mistake again. Getting my priorities straight now.” Matthew inclined his head. “Hope you enjoy your stay in Holly.”

Matthew shuffled away.

Fucking dead end.

But…his gaze slid toward that darkened shop. Jemma was busy with Grayson right then. Her shop was just waiting. Maybe he’d go over there and take a look around. See if there was anything inside the place that would tell him more about Jemma White.

Yeah, he’d just go over to the chocolate shop and take a quick look inside. Let’s see if you have some secrets I can use, Jemma.

He focused his gaze on her shop…and slipped across Main Street.





Chapter Six


He was used to dodging bullets. Used to sneaking into buildings. Disarming his enemies.

But taking a casual stroll down a street decked out for the holidays? Holding Jemma’s hand? Stopping to sip hot chocolate?

I am not used to this shit, but I sure do like it.

The carolers were still singing. A guy in a big, red Santa suit had even joined the fun. Grayson’s eyes narrowed on Santa. Was that…Brad? It was hard to tell with that bushy, white beard and the extra padding, but it sure looked like it might be his buddy.

Grayson’s lips twitched.

This is what I needed. This place. His gaze tracked over to Jemma.

This woman. A woman who’d gotten right past his defenses. A woman who was slipping into his heart.

Her head turned toward him. She caught him staring at her, and a wide smile curved her lips. He just had to bend toward her and put his lips against hers. The crowd vanished, and it was just…her.

Sweet Jemma.

Jemma White, where have you been all my life?

Someone bumped him from behind. He looked back and saw a line of kids rushing toward Santa. Kids. He didn’t have much experience with them, that was for damn sure.

So why in the hell was he suddenly picturing a little girl with Jemma’s blue eyes?

“How about we get away from the throng?” Jemma said. Her fingers tugged on his. “Maybe go someplace a little more private?”

Oh, hell, yes, that sounded like a great plan to him. They turned around and headed back to her shop. Her car was there, and so was his SUV. They’d get the vehicles and go…where?

Her place?

His? He was renting a little cabin up on the mountain. Small but definitely big enough for two. And if Jemma wanted to be alone with him—

“I turned off that light.” Jemma stopped beside him. Her head tilted as she stared at her shop. Grayson followed her gaze. He could see the faint glow coming from her chocolate shop. The lights weren’t on in the front of the shop—it seemed as if one of the back lights was turned on, a light in her kitchen.

“I know I turned off that light,” she said as her voice dropped to a whisper. “I always turn off the lights.”

He didn’t doubt her for a second. “Stay here.” Then he was rushing forward, not going for the front door of her shop, but heading for the back.

“Grayson, no!” She’d run behind him. She grabbed his arm just as he rounded the side of the building. “We should go get Brad! He’s the sheriff!”

“Yeah, well, Santa’s busy now. I’ve got this.”

“You’ve got a would-be robber? No!” She shook her head. “Not safe! This isn’t you camping out on my couch. This isn’t—”

The guy ran out of her shop at that moment, sending the back door flying open. He was dressed in black, and the guy had yanked a ski mask down over his head. He looked like a big, hulking shadow.

A big, armed shadow.

Grayson saw the guy lift the weapon that was in his right hand. A gun. Only that gun wasn’t aimed at Grayson.

Oh, the f*ck no. Grayson lunged for Jemma even as that bastard fired. Grayson and Jemma tumbled to the ground, and he made sure to shield her with his body. The bullet hadn’t made a sound when it was fired—

Silencer.

They had no cover right there. He had to get Jemma to safety. “Stay low, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear. Then he reached down and snagged the knife he always kept strapped to his ankle. The shooter had retreated, his steps loud and rushed, but Grayson could easily pinpoint his location.

And he’d always been very, very good with his knife.

He took a second to aim, and then he threw that knife. It struck their attacker in the upper, right shoulder and the guy yelled.

“Let’s move,” Grayson said, “now.” They hauled ass toward his SUV. He made sure to keep his body between her and any threat, and seconds later, he had the door to his vehicle open. He pushed Jemma inside. “Stay low,” he told her once more.