“With a big shipment of Mac Twos.” Reese looked down at her, his patience obviously wearing thin. “And I’m betting we’re not the only ones who know about it, so we should get a move on.”
Trudy put her forehead on her bags. The cab radio was playing some cheerful rap lite that Trudy liked until she heard the singer say, “Santa Baby.”
Reese stepped closer, looming over her. “Scoot over so I can get in.”
Trudy lifted her head. “For all I know you’re a rapist and a murderer.”
“Hey.” Reese sounded wounded although he looked as clueless as ever.
“It’s nothing personal. Ted Bundy was a very attractive man.”
“Oh, come on. I worked for your dad. You’re in a cab. You can tell the driver to wait while we go inside.”
A Mac Two. It was too good to be true. Much like Reese the surfer boy hitting on an older college librarian was too good to be true. And he had a cab, too. It strained belief, something she was pretty weak in to begin with. “How did you get a cab?”
“I held out my hand and it pulled up.” Reese sounded exasperated. “Look, if you don’t want to go, I do. In or out.”
“Oh, just hell,” Trudy said.
Reese shook his head and went around to the street side of the cab and got in. “Make up your mind, Trudy,” he said from behind her as he closed his door. “It’s Christmas Eve and it’s getting later every minute.”
Okay, he’d worked with her dad, and Nolan seemed to know him from the department, and he was probably not a psychotic killer, and he said he knew where there were Mac Twos. Did she really have a choice?
She put one foot into the cab, dragging her packages with her, keeping the other foot on the curb.
“So this warehouse,” she began, and then stopped, getting a good look at the inside of the cab. It was festooned with LED Christmas lights blinking red and green in time to the music, the song’s refrain whispering, “Gimme, gimme, gimme, Santa Baby.” She saw Reese look up at the ceiling and followed his eyes to a shriveled piece of mistletoe safety-pinned to the sagging fabric. “My God.”
“Mistletoe,” Reese said.
“Pretty limp,” Trudy said, squinting at it.
“I’m not.”
“I have Mace.”
He ducked his head and kissed her, bumping her nose, and it was nice, being kissed in a warm cab by a younger man, even if there was snow drifting in through the open door and the foot she still had on the curb was freezing. Gimme, gimme, gimme, Trudy thought, and wished he were Nolan.
Reese pulled back a little. “Thank you for not Macing me.”
“I was thinking about it,” Trudy said, and he kissed her again, putting his arms around her and pulling her close, and this time she kissed him back, because it was Christmas Eve and he might be getting her a Mac II. And because he was a pretty good kisser even if he wasn’t Nolan, who was a grave disappointment anyway.
Then Nolan leaned into the cab and scared the hell out of her.
“So, where are we going?” he asked cheerfully.
“Where did you come from?” she said, her heart hammering.
“Looking for a cab.” Nolan smiled at her. “Can’t find one.” He nudged the leg she had stretched out to the curb. “Can I share yours?”
“No,” Reese said, evidently not planning on taking any classes from Nolan in the future.
“It’s polite to share a cab on Christmas Eve, Mr. Daniels,” Nolan said.
“I’m not polite, Professor Mitchell.” Reese tightened his grip on her.
Trudy looked from one to the other. They were glaring at each other, which was sort of flattering until she remembered that they probably both wanted the Mac Two more than they wanted her. Well, there had to be safety in numbers. What were the chances they were both serial killers?
“I’m polite.” Trudy pulled her foot into the cab and scooted over, stopping when her hip touched Reese’s.
Nolan slid in until his hip touched hers, and shut the door.
The cab grew warmer.
“Where are we going?” he said. “Tell me it’s a place with MacGuffins.”
Trudy nodded. “A warehouse. With MacGuffins mint in their boxes.”
“Way to go, dude,” Nolan said to Reese.
“Out,” Reese said, still hanging on to Trudy.
“Oh no.” Trudy pulled away, leaning into Nolan in the process. “I’m only going if he goes.”
“I’m touched,” Nolan said.
“No, you’re not,” Trudy said, moving back from him again. “Safety in numbers. Any number. Not you specifically.” She smiled at Reese. “We’ll all go together.”
Reese looked as though he might argue and then sighed. “Go,” he said to the cabbie, and gave an address that Trudy knew was in the warehouse district, probably now dark and deserted and half an hour away.
Well, at least she knew Nolan wouldn’t attack her. The dumbass had no interest in her body at all.
“Gimme, gimme, gimme,” the radio sang.
“I hate Christmas,” Trudy said, and settled back as the cab jerked into motion.
Chapter 2
“So,” Nolan said as the cab moved through the falling snow and the brightly lit streets. “This is really nice.”