AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I had other things to keep me distracted—Hansen’s gruesome murder investigation. I needed to know who his killer was so I could make them pay for denying me my revenge. Sadly, Stanmore’s Sheriff’s Department never solved the crime. All they had was the unreliable testimony of Bobby Smith, who swore Santa killed Hansen.
The name Killer Santa was born, and the local newspaper ran with that story for months. Interest in the case eventually died out, but with the anniversary of Hansen’s murder just around the corner, people are talking about Killer Santa again. There’s a memorial mass for him tomorrow at church. It’s the last place I want to be, but if I don’t show up, people will talk. The entire town will be there.
“Val, honey. Did you find the silver tinsel?” Theresa calls from downstairs.
I’m helping her decorate the living room, and she seems to have misplaced the tinsel she bought last week. The house should have been decked out already, but she decided to change the color scheme of the decor.Last week.
“Not yet,” I yell back. “Are you sure you put the box in your closet?”
“Ugh. I don’t know. Check Eric’s room. I might have put it inhiscloset.”
Great. Like I really want to go in his room. Not that I never snooped around his bedroom before, but I’ve avoided going near it since I got home from college. I don’t want any reminder that I haven’t been able to extract the pest from my heart.
Annoyed that Theresa is forcing me into his domain, I clench my teeth and go look for the damn tinsel box. Eric’s closet is pretty sparse. He took most of his clothes when he started school at Clayton U in New York City. Not that he had many to begin with. Ever since I’ve known him, he’s stuck to his basic dark jeans, T-shirts, and his black leather jacket. Whenever it gets super cold, he adds a few more layers and wears a thicker coat.
The closet still smells like him though, a mix of nutmeg, cedar, mandarin orange, and lemon. It’s intoxicating, just like him. The scent brings back the memory of us being together that I shoved into a dark corner of my mind. I can almost feel the heat of his skin against mine and the way he unraveled me with his tongue. Luckily, I find the box Theresa needs right away. I drop into a crouch to pick it up, and that’s when I sense I’m no longer alone… and it’s not my stepmom standing behind me.
“What are you doing in my closet, Val?”
I unfurl from my crouch slowly, holding the box. I need the shield when I turn to face him. He’s standing under the doorframe, taking up most of the space with his six-foot-three-inch height. His shoulders look wider than I remember. But his gorgeous face and his intense blue eyes are what makes my knees weak.
I lift my chin in defiance, narrowing my eyes. “Your mother sent me to get the tinsel box.”
He arches a brow, and the corners of his mouth curl upward into a crooked grin. “What’s that box doing in my closet?”
“Ask her.” I take a step forward, but Eric is still blocking the exit. “Are you gonna move or what?”
Still smirking, he takes a sidestep, but as I walk past him, he grabs my arm. “What? I don’t get a hug from you?”
I frown. “Why do you need a hug?”
“’Cause I haven’t seen you in months, Val, and we’re family.”
Family. The word makes me sick when I associate it with Eric. It’s thanks to that notion that we can’t be together—not thathewants that. He probably considers last year’s hookup a favor, nothing more.
“Whatever. Hug your mother.” I try to yank my arm free, but Eric holds me tighter.
“I already did. I want a hug fromyou.”
“You’re not getting a hug from me. Now let go.”
His gaze hardens, and instead of releasing my arm, he pulls me closer and brings his mouth to my ear. “I’ve missed you, Val. You know what date tomorrow is, right?”
His warm breath against my skin makes me light-headed. God, I want him to kiss me so desperately that it’s a little scary.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Hansen’s murder anniversary.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” He licks my neck, turning my body into jelly. Desire quickly spreads through me, and I close my eyes.
“Valerie, did you find the box?” Theresa asks from the hallway.
Eric releases my arm and steps away. When his mother walks in, there’s a safe distance between us, but she still studies us as if she knows exactly what we’ve been up to.
“I got the box,” I reply.
“Good. Come downstairs and let Eric rest.”
“I’m not tired. I can help decorate.” He looks at me, and my face heats. Shit. I hope his mother doesn’t notice.
