Page 14 of Everything Christmas

“I think he scared the crap out of you. I also know what women have to go through to convict their attacker isn’t easy. My preference would have been to throw him in a cell with someone named Bubba who would make him his bitch so he would know what it felt like from your end, but that decision isn’t up to me.” He tipped her face up to his. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you? Sometimes the adrenaline masks the pain from injuries.”

“I’m okay. I’m just really glad you were home and heard me.”

“If I hadn’t been taking out the trash at the right time, I wouldn’t have.”

She sniffled as the tears which had been threatening overflowed. “Why are men such jerks?” she blurted out as she wiped furiously at her wet cheeks.

“All men aren’t like that asshole.”

“That’s not my experience.” The fear that had fueled her panic moments ago was now giving way to anger and her outlet was Reese. “Are we done here?” she snapped. “Or do you have another ticket to write? Maybe for loitering on my porch or for lewd behavior? That’s a crime, isn’t it? Or maybe I was disturbing the peace with my screams while he was mauling me. I’m sure there’re rules against noise and another hefty HOA fine you can levy.”

Her voice broke at the tail end of her little rant and she let out a sob, which was followed by another, and before she knew it, she was crying uncontrollably.

“Aw, honey, come here.”

She resisted at first, but then his powerful arms wrapped around her and she fell into him. It felt good to be held. Since losing her parents, she’d had to be stoic and strong. But her grief and loneliness were crushing and the lingering anxiety from tonight’s attack was overwhelming. So she stood there blubbering into his chest as the emotions of two long, difficult years came roiling out.

“It’s okay to let it out, baby. I’m here,” he whispered against her hair. He held her close and rocked her gently, speaking in a low soothing voice until her sobs faded to an occasional hiccup and sniffle.

Cupping her shoulders, he eased her back a step to get a look at her. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you. I’m sorry I fell apart like that and for what I said! After you saved me.”

“You’re amped up, which is understandable.” He cradled her face between his hands and gently wiped her wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Where are your keys?”

“In my purse,” she said, looking around. It was lying on the porch, half of the contents spilled out.

Reese crouched down, swiftly transferring the contents into her bag before she could react. He also found her keys.

Merry dropped them twice as her trembling fingers failed to get the correct key in the lock. “I can’t,” she whispered as she pressed her forehead against the door, trying to get a grip on herself. Her hero once again intervened, reaching around her and removing the keys from her badly shaking fingers. She happily relinquished them, stepping aside to let him unlock it.

As the door swung inward, he slid his hand along the inside wall, searching for the light switch. He walked in, his gaze sweeping the hall for hidden dangers before he allowed her to enter. It was impossible to miss the moving crates still piled against the wall.

“Are you still unpacking?” Reese asked as he carefully guided her through the organized chaos that was her entryway.

“Most of those were supposed to go to the store but came here by mistake.” Her legs were unsteady as she moved into the living room. “I need to sit down,” she announced, collapsing onto the first seat she came to, her dad’s beloved brown paisley wing-backed chair. He read the paper in it every night for as long as she could remember. How she wished her parents were here when she needed them.

“Is there someone I can call for you, Merry? You’re upset and probably shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

Shaking her head, she leaned against the high back of the chair and took some deep breaths. She’d had panic attacks after her parents died, and she found that deep breathing and relaxation exercises helped more than anything.

Looking at him, as he hovered inside the living room door, she gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you for saving me, Sergeant, but you don’t have to stay.”

“I can’t leave you like this. You’re a wreck. Who can I call? Your mother, sister, a friend?”

“My parents are gone and I’m an only child.”

“A friend, then?”

“I work all the time and haven’t had time to make any yet.” She realized how pathetic that sounded, but it was the truth.

Moving toward her, he squatted in front of her, taking her small hands in his much larger ones. “If you don’t have anyone to call, I’ll stay for a bit. How about a drink? A glass of wine might settle your nerves.”

“After I take a hot shower, I’ll feel better. But really, you don’t have to stay. You’ve done more than enough.”

“I’m not leaving until you at least stop shaking.” He pulled her to her feet. “Go on upstairs and do what you need to do. I’ll wait here. Afterward, we can talk until you get sleepy—all night if necessary.”

“Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

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