Page 72 of My eX-MAS Emergency

Tristan pressed him harder against the wall. “I can haul you over to the police station right now if you’d like. Maybe call my friends over at the Associated Press.”

Of course Tristan had friends at the AP. He really was too pretty and rich for my style, but how could I fault him for that? Especially since here he was helping me save my sister. He’d done the craziest things for me, even when he didn’t particularly want to. Maybe if I hadn’t been so stringent about my “principles,” he could have told me the truth thirteen years ago. Perhaps I had some lessons to learn too.

Skippy threw his hands up. “Okay, okay.”

“Get your phone, Skippy,” I demanded. “I’m going to tell you what to say to my sister. And then, I’m going to watch you block her and delete her number. If you ever try to contact her again, or any other vulnerable woman, for that matter, I will personally see to it you rot in prison for the rest of your orangey life. Because I know people too.” No need to mention who those people were. Mainly Jules, who may or may not work for the CIA.

Tristan flashed me an appreciative grin before letting go of the scumbag. “Do as the woman says.” He kept up his tough-guy act. Oh, we were going to have a lot of fun later.

Skippy grabbed his phone off the unmade bed littered with beer cans and Corn Nuts.

Though I hated to, I stood next to him to make sure he did exactly as I instructed.

Tristan sidled up to me and took my hand, giving it a good squeeze.

He had no idea how much it meant to have him there with me. I curled my fingers around his, not wanting to let go. Ever.

TRISTAN

TRISTAN KEPT STEALING GLANCES AT Calista whenever he could on the drive back to Stella’s house. She couldn’t stop smiling. The way she beamed spoke of her goodness. She loved nothing more than saving people. All he could think about was the fact that she was the coolest girl he’d ever known. Watching her masterfully own Skip totally did him in. He regretted now more than ever that he’d been such a cruel coward thirteen years ago.

Calista unexpectedly reached over and placed a hand on his thigh while he drove. “Thank you.”

He placed a hand over hers, hoping she would keep it right where it was. “We make a good team.”

“We do,” she whispered, almost as if she were afraid to admit it.

He could understand her trepidation. “I know you’re worried about what this town and my parents will do to us. Hell, even what I might do to you. But I swear to you, I won’t let anything come between us this time. You saw what I did to Skip.” He grinned.

Calista squeezed his thigh and smiled. “You were very brave against the orange man.”

“I’m serious, Calista. I’m willing to do anything to make this work.”

She gripped his thigh tighter. “I believe you, but your parents … they always seem to get their way, don’t they?”

“Not always.” He thought about Jonathon and how all the money in the world couldn’t save his life or make him into the perfect son they pretended he was. “And not this time.” Tristan brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“Maybe we should keep things between us on the down-low for a while,” Calista suggested.

“If that’s what you want.” He paused. “But … that’s not your style, or mine.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But it’s not just me on the line this time,” she lamented. “I can’t let anything happen to Deidra. Do you know how hard she had to fight for me to even get an interview at the hospital? My credentials didn’t matter—only my reputation in this town.”

“Cal, I’ve never known you to back down from a fight. And this time, you’re not doing it alone. Are you really going to let my parents bully you or Deidra?”

She blew out a huge breath. “When you put it that way, no.”

Tristan felt a rush of relief. “Good. I want to ask you on a proper date, then.”

“A date?” she sounded surprised.

“Did you forget what those are?” he teased.

“Why don’t you refresh my memory,” she said flirtatiously.

Tristan stopped at a red light just outside of downtown, allowing him to more than just glance at the beautiful woman riding shotgun. “Well, first I would pick you up and, after seeing you, I would have thoughts of staying in and having you all to myself. After I get over my selfish behavior, I would take you ice-skating outside at town square. Lots of peppermint hot chocolate and kissing would be involved, of course. Then we would catch a showing of the original Miracle on 34th Street at the old theater on Main Street. I’ll watch you the entire time and smile when you tear up when Fred convinces the court that Kris Kringle is real, and Susan finally believes in Santa Claus.”

Calista gazed at Tristan, completely under his spell. “Santa is real,” she said, as serious as could be.

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