Page 72 of Sergeant's Christmas Siege

“Right,” Kate said, doing a fair approximation of his drawl. Because it was obnoxious. “Mr. Don’t Look Back, the Past Has Fangs That I Must Outrun at All Costs, is the epitome of healthy and well-adjusted. But nice try.”

Templeton let his gaze move over her, as if he was trying to decide what to do with her. Or what to say, and she braced herself because she knew that whatever he did, it would be a weapon—

But he only shook his head. “I’m going to go see if I can rustle up something a little more filling than a can of soup for dinner. Why don’t you stay out here and think about whether you’re talking to your father because it’s the right move—or because you don’t know how to play well with others.”

“Super well-adjusted,” Kate murmured. “Not taking your ball and going home, or anything like that.”

“Keep it up, Trooper,” he advised her, and she was sure there was something dangerous in his gaze before he turned and headed for the kitchen. “And I won’t feed you.”

But he did, of course.

Kate expected him to be surly about it, but that wasn’t Templeton’s style. He produced a hearty dinner of lamb chops and spinach he liberated from the freezer, mashed potatoes from a box, and even a bottle of wine.

And instead of sitting there, sullen and broody with his nose out of joint, he regaled her with stories of Alaska Force adventures. He was charming. Funny. He certainly knew how to tell a story. But when all the food was gone and they were sitting in the cozy little kitchen that felt like a home, even if it wasn’t theirs, all the laughter subsided and Kate gazed at him across the one glass of wine that she’d taken care to nurse, not drink. Because she certainly didn’t need a repeat of the last time she had a few glasses of wine around him.

“That’s a strange look,” Templeton said.

“I’m wondering why you felt you needed to put on a performance tonight.”

She expected him to argue. To huff and puff and tell her she’d been imagining things. But instead, that mouthof his crooked up in one corner and made her short of breath.

“Everybody likes a little dinner theater,” he drawled. “I figured we could take a break from discussing the Holiday family. You’re welcome.”

Kate was keenly aware that these kinds of conversations with Templeton were dangerous.Hewas dangerous. All of this was woven through with that highly charged thing that hummed between them and felt a lot likeinevitability, and it would take very little to blow it all up.

Very, very little.

She did the dishes instead. She washed and Templeton dried, another thing they seemed to fall into as if they’d choreographed it, but without saying a word.

Kate blamed the house. The fact that it felt so cozy, so lived in. A real home, unlike any of the places she’d lived in over the years. And there was something about being here with Templeton that tugged at her. The fire was so warm, the light was so bright, when there was all that darkness and ice fog outside.

The man had made her dinner. Twice. And had made her laugh, because he could and because there had already been a little too much nastiness.

Kate wished he would grab her. Make a pass. She knew what to do with that kind of overtness. It was kindness that she didn’t know how to digest. It was the fact that he was good to her for no discernible reason exceptthat, beneath all that danger and skill he wore so casually, he was actually the good man she’d been sure he couldn’t be back when she’d met him in Grizzly Harbor for the first time.

And even thinking thatdid thingsto her.

They’d eaten late, which meant it was the easiest thing in the world to excuse herself when the dishes were done and hustle straight up the stairs before she was temptedto sink into all that heat he generated. Before she gave in to all those strange sensations that swirled around and around inside of her and made her imagine that heat like his could swallow her whole yet not burn.

She was sure she would drop off to sleep in an instant after such a strange and emotional couple of days. But instead, she read on her phone until late. She heard Templeton come upstairs, then the door across the hall from hers open and shut.

Kate slept fitfully when she finally closed her eyes, falling in and out of anxious dreams that she knew were about her family, though none of them appeared as themselves. It was all faceless monsters and frightening beasts. And when she woke in the morning, she was annoyed that she hadn’t had one of those deliciously wicked dreams about the man across the hall instead.

She went downstairs, not surprised to find that the lights were on and a fresh pot of coffee sat there, already brewed. She wondered if Templeton slept at all or if he simplywaited, like that Chuck Norris joke. She suspected the latter.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and was getting around to asking herself if she should be alarmed that there was no sign of him when the front door opened and he shouldered his way in, bringing a blast of frigid air with him.

“Still the ice fog,” he told her.

She made a noise in commiseration, because the weather meant there would be no run today unless they went out and found a gym with those boring treadmills. It also meant they would be stuck here until it got warmer.

And with no way to work off all your excess nervous energy, a voice inside her said.Unless...

But she couldn’t go there. Particularly not this early in the morning.

“All flights are still grounded,” Templeton said, whichshe’d expected. “It doesn’t look like you and I are getting out of here anytime soon.”

“Stranded in the interior. My favorite.”

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