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“I’m close to you because you definitely fucking need me,” Brady snarled. “Some bastard is trying to break into your home.”
With those words, he spun away from her and rushed toward the front of her house. She gave chase right after him.
Chapter Three
On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…three near heart attacks because some punk tried to break into her house.
—Brady
Brady didn’t want to run out blind, so he paused to look through the curtains near the front of Noelle’s house. His gun was upstairs, and he could go and grab it before he went out, but that would take valuable time and—
Whomp.
He saw the ball of white hit the window. A snowball? What in the actual hell? Then he caught the sound of laughter. Rumbling voices. Voices that cracked every now and then.
Noelle rushed to his side. “What’s happening?” Her robe gaped open a bit. A tempting bit that let him see the upper swell of her breasts as—
Whomp.
More laughter. His jaw clenched. “Some asshole kids are about to get the scare of their lives, that’s what is happening.” He let the curtain fall as he pointed at her. “Stay here.”
“But—”
He yanked open the door, and a snowball hit him right in the chest. The cold iced him as the snow slid down his body.
“Oh, fuck,” Brady heard a cracking male voice say. “Let’sgo!”
Nope. They weren’t going. Because Brady rushed off Noelle’s porch and tackled the punk who’d just thrown the snowball at him. They slammed into the ground—the icy, snow-covered ground—and Brady made sure the snowball-throwing jerk was the one who took the brunt of the impact. He pinned the creep on the ground.
“Don’t, mister!” A yell from behind him. And then some scrawny teen was grabbing Brady’s shoulder. “Don’t hurt Jimmy! We were just having a little fun!”
He could still hear the shrill cry of Noelle’s alarm. She’d turned on more outside lights, and with that illumination, Brady could make out the terrified features that belonged to Jimmy. The kid looked to be about sixteen, maybe seventeen, as he peered up at Brady with huge, terror-filled eyes.
“Scaring a womanisn’tfun,” Brady growled. “It’s a way to get yourself hurt.”
“Oh, God.” Jimmy whimpered. “Not the face. Do not hit my face. The girls in my classlovemy face.”
The grip on Brady’s shoulder tightened. “Don’t hit him!” A desperate cry from the guy who had to be Jimmy’s partner.
Brady turned his head and saw another teen. This one was small, with shoulders hunching and shaking, and a bulky coat that seemed to dwarf his body.
“I’ve called the cops!” Noelle’s voice rang out before Brady could say anything else. He heard her frantic steps rushing down the porch steps.
The small teen with the hunched shoulders whipped his head toward her. His mouth dropped open as he took in sight of Noelle.
Sonofa—Brady let go of his prey and jumped to his feet. “Seriously, you just had to run out?” After he’d told her to stay inside? But as Brady turned, he saw that she’d at least grabbed a coat. A long, black coat that swirled around her legs.
Thank Christ she’s not out here in her robe.
“You might have needed me.” She even had on boots. The woman had sure dressed fast. She’d probably had the boots and coat in the closet near the door. She hurried to his side and peered at the two teens. “Why were you throwing snowballs at my house?”
“At midnight,” Brady added as he caught her hand and drew her closer to him. Closer and a bit behind him. He didn’t trust the kids. Just because you were young, it didn’t mean you weren’t dangerous.
When it came to Noelle’s safety, he didn’t trust anyone.
“You called the cops?” From Jimmy. “Aw, man. My mom will be pissed.”
“She should be,” Brady snapped. “You’re lucky I didn’t run out here with my gun.”
