Page 10 of Dragged Home for Christmas

There was no sign of life, and the house had a spooky feel to it.

Ashley peered through the windshield. “Not exactly homey, is it?”

He switched the engine off. “How about we take a closer look?”

She shrugged. “You can do what you like. It’s all yours.”

They got out of the truck and walked toward the steps. Mike had barely enough time to note the peeling blue paint on the treads before the door on the porch was flung open and a figure dashed out.

“You’ve got a nerve, honey.” A tall black man, the hair on top of his head dyed blond, stood at the top of the stairs, brandishing a rolling pin. “What makes you think you’re gonna get close enough to pack all our things in that itty bitty truck? Hell, I couldn’t even get all my costumes in that thing. So just get back into it, turn around, and get your ass outta here. We arenotmoving, y’hear?” He wore a yellow tank top, revealing muscled upper arms and broad shoulders, and jeans so tight they could have been sprayed on.

“Either I’ve caught you in the middle of baking, or you’re threatening to flatten me with that.”

The man snorted. “It was the first thing that came to hand. But I’m not afraid to use it.” He smacked it against the palm of his hand.

“In which case, you’ll get arrested.” Mike wiped the water from his face. “Do you think we could have this conversation somewhere drier?”

The man pursed his lips. “What makes you think anyone here wants to talk with you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about because you’re on my property?”

He blinked. “Are you Mike? Nick’s nephew?”

“The same. So let’s take this indoors before I do my Wicked Witch of the West impression.”

The man bit his lip. “Come on up.” He lowered the rolling pin.

Mike climbed the stairs, Ashley behind him. As they drew nearer, he got a better look at his would-be assailant. The guy had cheekbones to die for, and eyes so dark, they were like ebony.

I wonder what he looks like in drag?

Then he pushed the thought aside.

I won’t get the chance, because he isn’t staying. None of them are.

Chapter 5

Mike stepped onto the porch and took stock. On his left was what appeared to be the lobby of a hotel, and around the corner to the right, he spied a bar.

“We can talk in here.” The guy opened the door to the hotel and stood aside, tut-tutting as Mike and Ashley went inside. “You are dripping like a leaky faucet. Use the mat, for God’s sake. This floor is in a bad enough state as it is.”

Mike stamped his feet on the worn mat, and started to remove his hooded jacket. He paused. “You got someplace I can hang this where itwon’tbe dripping on the floor?”

The guy rolled his eyes and thrust out a hand. “Give ’em here, both of you. Now sit your ass down and I’ll fetch the others. Because we need to have a conversation.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The only conversation Mike intended on having was a one-sided one, that began withpack your bags, you’re leavingand ended withthere’s the door. Goodbye.

He handed over his jacket and Ashley did the same. The guy looked her up and down. “And who are you, girl?”

“His best friend. And don’t let my size fool you. If you’d gone for him with that rolling pin, I’d have knocked you on your ass.” She glared at him.

The guy stared at her for a moment, then burst into deep, rich laughter. “Oh honey, you could sure as hell try.” He grinned. “You’re feisty. I like that. What’s your name?”

“Ashley. I’m assumingyouhave a name. Probably at least two.”

He arched his eyebrows, his lips twitching. “Call me Anthony. I’ll be right back.” He headed for a door behind the front desk, his slim hips swaying.

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