Sex, Lies and Mistletoe

“Pandora, looks like business is booming nicely for a weekday,” he observed, his eyes on her rather than the store. He was tall, easily six feet, and still carried the same nice build that’d made him a star quarterback in school. “Cassiopeia must be thrilled. Is she coming home soon?”

Having combined her yearly spiritual sabbatical with the psychics’ conference, Cassiopeia was still in Sedona, Arizona. Pandora’s mother was, hopefully, too busy balancing her chi to be worrying about the store.

“She’s due home by Yule,” Pandora answered. At his puzzled glance, she amended it to, “The week before Christmas.”

“Ah, gotcha. Your mom is really into that New Agey stuff, isn’t she?”

Pandora just shrugged. She wanted to hide away from that friendly look. There was no innuendo, no rudeness, but she still felt dirty. Instead, she made a show of lifting Bonnie, cuddling her close so that the cat was a furry curtain between Pandora’s body and the sheriff’s gaze.

“My mother’s interests are many-faceted. Right now, I’m sure if she were here, she’d be asking if you’d finished your holiday shopping, Sheriff. We’re running a few specials in the café and have a stocking-stuffer sale on tumbled stones and crystals today. Maybe you’d like to check it out?”

“Maybe. But I’m thinking if I did all my shopping now, I wouldn’t have an excuse to come back and visit you every day,” he said, putting a heavy dose of flirt in his tone. Leaning one elbow on the counter, he gave her a smoldering look before he glanced at the shoppers milling around, many with wicker baskets filled with merchandise swinging on their arms.

“I really am blown away by how you’ve increased business here,” he said. “That whole aphrodisiac angle is really drawing them in, isn’t it? How’d you come up with that? Don’t tell me it’s from personal experience or I might have a heart attack.”

His flirty grin was easy, the look in his eyes friendly and fun. Pandora still inwardly cringed.

“Actually,” she corrected meticulously, her fingers defiantly combing through the soft, fluffy fur of the cat, “the recipes have been handed down from my great-grandmother. Do you remember her? She’s the one with all the experience.”

Pandora tried not to smirk when his smile dimmed a little. Nothing like offering up the image of a white-haired old lady to diffuse a guy’s sexy talk.

“How about dinner Friday night?” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven and you can tell me all about your great-grandma and her recipes.”

What a stubborn man. But she was just as stubborn. She knew she had no reason to refuse—that she was getting a weird vibe wasn’t good enough—but still, Pandora shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but no,” she told him. Then, seeing the disappointment in his gaze, she tried to soften her words with a smile.

“I really wish you’d change your mind,” Sheriff Kendall said, reaching over Bonnie to give Pandora’s cheek a teasing sort of pinch. She gasped, her fingers clenching the cat’s fur. Whether it was in protest, or because the sheriff was just too close, Bonnie hissed and leaped from Pandora’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, stepping back so she and her cheek were out of reach. “I’m trying to focus on the store right now. I need to get us back on our feet before I start thinking about dating.”

“Okay. I understand.” He offered that friendly smile again and turned to go. Then he looked back. “Just so you know, though, I plan to keep coming back until I change your mind.”

Crap.

She waited until he stepped over Paulie, who carpeted the welcome mat like a boneless blanket of fur, and watched him slide behind the wheel of the police cruiser he’d parked to blocking the door. Then she almost wilted as the tension she hadn’t realized was tying her in knots seeped from her shoulders.

“No offense, boss, but you’re crazy,” Fifi declared, stepping next to Pandora and offering a sad shake of her head. “I’d do anything to date the sexy sheriff. I can’t believe you turned him down.”

What was she supposed to say? That her internal warning system was screaming out against the guy? That same system had hummed like a happy kitten over Sean.

So obviously, the system sucked.

She gave Fifi a tiny grimace and said, “I guess I might have been a little hasty turning him down.”

“A little? More like a lot crazy. Dude’s a serious heartthrob.”

Pandora grinned as the blonde gave her heart a thump-thumping pat.

“Okay,” she decided, squaring her shoulders against the sick feeling in her stomach. Just nerves about dipping back into the dating pond, she was sure. “I’ll tell you what. The next time he asks, I’ll say yes.”

Fifi’s cheer garnered a few stares and a lot of smiles, especially from the young man with shaggy brown hair who was watching her like an adoring puppy.

Well, there you have it, Pandora decided with a grin of her own. The town obviously approved.

Ten minutes later, Pandora was ringing up a customer and still worrying over whether Sean had ruined her for all men, when a sugary-sweet voice grated down her spine.

“My mother said there was a blown-glass piece in here she thought I’d like as a Christmas gift. She probably mixed up the store names again, though, poor dear. I don’t see anything in here I need.”

Crap. Pandora took a deep breath, gesturing with her chin for Fifi to close up the café for her. This would probably take a while. She’d gone to high school with Lilah Gomez, and eight years later the other woman still held the privilege of being Pandora’s least favorite person—which, given the events of this last year, was really saying something.

Knowing the importance of not showing weakness to her sworn enemy, she cleared her face of all expression and turned to the brunette.

“Your mother has excellent taste. Too bad she didn’t pass it, and the ability to dress appropriately, on to her only daughter,” Pandora said sweetly. She made a show of looking the other woman up and down, taking in her red pleather tunic with its low-cut, white fur-trimmed neckline that showed off her impressively expensive breasts. She raised a brow at the shimmery black leggings and a pair of do-me heeled boots that would make any dominatrix proud. “What do you call this look? Holiday hussy?”

“I’m the customer here. Why don’t you put on your cute-little-clerk hat and show me whatever overpriced joke my mother saw so I can reject it and go shop in a real store.”

“From where I’m standing, which is right next to the cash register, in the handful of times you’ve been in Moonspun Dreams you’ve never bought a single thing. So you’re not a customer. You’re a loiterer.”

Lilah responded with a haughty look. She’d never bothered with her frenemy act before. Probably because she knew that Pandora would see right through it. Instead, the brunette leaned both elbows on the counter and bent forward to say under her breath, “You’d know crime, now, wouldn’t you? What was it you were busted for? Something to do with drugs? Or was it lying?”

The only thing that persuaded Pandora to unclench her teeth was the fact that she couldn’t afford to get them fixed if one broke. Instead, she turned on the heel of her own unslutty boots and retrieved a blown-glass peacock, each feather shimmering delicately in the light.

Before she’d even set the piece on the counter, she could see the covetous spark in Lilah’s eyes. But instead of saying she liked it, the other woman turned her nose to the air and gave a sniff.

“It’s okay. Just the kind of thing I’d expect to find in this dingy little store.”

“The artist is one of my mother’s clients,” Pandora said, surreptitiously scraping the sale sticker off the price tag. She’d be damned if Lilah was getting thirty percent off. “Her work is currently in the White House and was recently featured in a George Clooney movie.”

Drool formed in the corner of Lilah’s heavily painted mouth. Her hand was halfway to her purse before she thought to ask, “How much is it?”

The desire to make a sale warred with the desire to kick the bitchy woman out of the store. But responsibility always trumped personal satisfaction for Pandora. Which was probably why women like Lilah, and Cassiopeia, Fifi and even old Mrs. Sellers, had a lot more fun that she did.

With one unvarnished fingernail, she pushed the price tag across the counter. Lilah’s eyes rounded and her lips drooped.

“Will you hold it? My mother hinted that she’d get it for me as a Christmas gift.”

“You want me to hold an overpriced joke?”

The woman’s glare was vicious, but she jerked her chin in affirmation.

Hey, that was fun. Maybe all Cassiopeia’s lectures about karma were true.

Before Pandora could decide whether to go for gracious or gloating, a loud roaring rumbled through the air.

She and Lilah both stared as a huge Harley slowed down, the helmeted rider turning his head to stare into the store. A shiver skittered between Pandora’s shoulder blades. Another out-of-towner? Usually tourism went dry in Black Oak between Thanksgiving and Valentine’s. It was probably someone visiting Custom Rides, the motorcycle shop that backed up to Moonspun.

“Company?” Fifi speculated, coming in from the café to stare, too.

“Must have heard about the yippee-skippy you’re offering up,” Mrs. Sellers predicted, heading out the door hand in hand with her tottering hunk of afternoon delight.

As one, Pandora sighed and Lilah sneered.

“That’s disgusting,” Lilah muttered.

“What is? The idea of two people enjoying each other’s company?”

“You know they’re sneaking off to have sex,” the woman said, hissing the last word as if it were pure evil. The overblown brunette averted her eyes from the elderly couple as though she was worried that they wouldn’t hold out until they toddled all the way to their love nest, instead giving in and doing the nasty right there in the doorway.

“And sex is bad … Why?” Pandora put on her most obnoxious, innocently sweet smile. “From what I heard, you were having it a couple nights ago. Wasn’t it in the backseat of an old Nova parked behind Lander’s Market?”

Fifi giggled, forcing Lilah to split her glare between the two women.

Before she could spill her ire, though, the chimes over the door sang. And in walked Pandora’s worst nightmare. The sexiest man she’d ever seen, wearing black leather and a dangerous attitude. The kind of guy who could make her forget her own name, right along with her convictions, her vow of chastity and where she’d left her underpants.

Black hair swept back from a face worthy of a GQ cover. Sharp cheekbones, a chiseled, hair-roughened chin and vivid gold eyes topped broad shoulders and long, denim-clad legs that seemed to go on forever.

Pandora’s hormones sighed in appreciation as desire flared, smoking hot, in her belly. She wanted to leap over the counter and slide that leather jacket off those wide shoulders and see up close and personal if his chest and arms lived up to the promise of the rest of his body.

“Oh, my,” Fifi breathed.

“Hubba hubba,” Lilah moaned.

“Go away,” Pandora muttered.

The guy paused just inside the door, then knelt down to give Paulie’s head a quick rub before straightening and looking around. His narrowed gaze seemed to take in everything in one quick glance. Then his eyes locked on Pandora’s. Nerves battled with lust as she felt something deep inside click. A recognition. And that soul-deep terror that this was a man who spelled trouble in every way possible.

“LADIES,” CALEB GREETED, barely aware of the two women on his side of the counter. His eyes were glued on the sweet little dish on the other side.

Her hair, a dark auburn so deep it looked like mahogany, tumbled over her shoulders in a silken slide, the tips waving over the sweet curve of her breasts. She wore a simple white shirt that draped gently over her curves instead of hugging them, and tiny silver earrings that made her look like a sweet-faced innocent. From the fresh-faced look, she didn’t have any makeup on, either. Or maybe it just seemed that way because she was standing next to a gal who troweled it on like spackle.

“Well, hello there,” Spackle Gal said. The brunette, dressed as if she moonlighted on the stroll, minced her way across the floor to lay a red-taloned hand on his arm. “It’s a pleasure to have you here in Black Oak. I’m the welcome wagon, and I’d be happy to show you a good time while you’re visiting our little town.”

His brow arched, Caleb glanced at her hand, then back at her face. It only took her a second to get a clue and move her fingers back where they belonged.

“I know the town just fine, thanks,” he dismissed. His gaze went back to the sweetie behind the counter. “Apparently I don’t know everyone in town as well as I’d like, though.”

The brunette gave a little hiss. Caleb ignored her. Despite her clear message of a free-and-easy good time, he wasn’t interested.

He’d only come in to check the place out. Not because he was interested in … He looked around, wondering what the hell they sold here. This store shared the alley with what was apparently his father’s motorcycle shop. His dad had still been on the take when Caleb had lived in Black Oak, so his shop was new, and Caleb’s familiarity with this side of town sketchy.

So this weird store was going to be his new home away from home. By hanging here he could scope things out. Get the lay of the land, keep low for a few days and see how much intel he could scout. Then he’d decide if he wanted to let Tobias know he was in town or not.

“Some people aren’t as important to know as others,” the brunette said, trying her luck again by nudging close enough to press one impressive breast against his arm. Caleb was grateful for the extra protection of his leather jacket. “Why don’t you and I go to Mick’s for a drink and I’ll introduce you around.”

Caleb wanted to sigh. God, he was tired. Undercover standard operating procedure said take her offer. She was the perfect cover. A resident who probably liked her gossip, she could fill him in on all the townspeople. As blatantly sexual as she was, she might even have an in with the ecstasy crowd.

She’d obviously be happy to offer up any manner of information, favors and probably kinky acts, and walk away with a smile and no regrets the next morning. But he was tired of using himself, losing himself, like that.

And, dammit, he was supposed to be on vacation. A man shouldn’t feel guilty about turning down cheap sex while he was on vacation.

“I’m good,” he said, stepping away to make his rejection clear. From her glare, she got the message loud and clear. Color high on her cheeks, she shot an ugly look at the girls standing at the counter before heading for the door.

“You might want to slow down on testing your wares from the café, Pandora,” the vamp warned over her shoulder as she teetered out of the store. “Not only is that aphrodisiac crap in danger of making you sound like a slut, but you’re gaining weight.”

Caleb’s eyes cut to the women behind the counter, noting the shocked horror in the blonde’s eyes and the sneer on the redhead’s face. He grinned, liking her screw-you attitude.

“What’s she so bitchy about?” he asked, keeping his smile friendly. Nothing connected with a mark—or suspect—faster than sympathy. Besides, facts were facts … the woman had been a bitch. He wandered the store ostensibly looking at merchandise while eyeing the back wall and its bead-covered doorway.

“That’s her default personality,” the redhead said.

“Pandora, is it?”

He wondered why she was looking at him as if he was a wolf about to pounce. Sure, he’d been a troublemaker as a teen, but he’d been gone almost twelve years. Was his rep still that bad in Black Oak? He didn’t recognize her. Younger than him, she was closer to his sister’s age.

“Hello?” he said, giving her a verbal nudge as he picked up a clear rock shaped like a pyramid, pretending to inspect it. Her worried stare was starting to bug him.

“I’ll go make sure everyone’s out of the café since it’s closed now,” the blonde murmured.

“Yes, I’m Pandora,” the other woman said, grabbing the arm of the blonde before she could move away. “I’m the, um, owner. Can I help you?”

“Owner? You don’t sound so sure.”

“I’m still getting used to the idea.” Pandora’s smile was as stiff and fake as the blow-up doll Caleb had shipped off to Hunter the previous day. “What can I do for you?”

God, so many things. Let him taste those lips to see if they were as soft and delicious as they looked. Slide that silky-looking hair over his naked body. Tell him about all her favorite sexual positions and give him a chance to teach her his.

“I’m just looking around. You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Thanks. Was there anything specific you were shopping for?”

His grin said it all. A sweet pink flush colored her cheeks, but he saw the flash of reciprocated interest in her eyes. Then, for some bizarre reason, she slammed that door shut with an impersonal arch of her brow.

What the hell? Unlike his brother, Gabriel, he didn’t expect women to fall at his feet. And the hard-to-get game did have appeal sometimes. But to totally deny the attraction? What was up with that?

Focus, Black, he reminded himself. He’d come to town for a crappy reason and wanted to leave as fast as he could. So her denial was a good thing.

And maybe if he told himself that a few hundred more times, he’d believe it.

“So you have a café here, too?” he asked, poking through a basket of glossy rocks and trying to take his own advice to focus. Now that he was closer, he noted the noise and tasty scents coming through that beaded curtain. Was the back door to the alley through there?

Before he could poke his head through to see, a group of people strode out with a clatter of beads and a lot of laughter. They’d obviously been having a happy holiday lunch.

There, in the center of the group like a king surrounded by his royal court, was Tobias Black. His lion’s mane of black hair had gone gray at the temples. His face sported a few more wrinkles, adding to its austere authority. Still tall and lean, he wore jeans and biker boots, a denim work shirt and a mellow smile.

Caleb froze. Control broke for a brief second as he closed his eyes against the crashing waves of memories as they pounded through his head—and his heart. Holidays and hugs, lectures and encouraging winks. Watching his dad pull a con, then pulling his first con while his dad watched. The trip to Baskin-Robbins afterward, where Tobias let Caleb treat to hot-fudge sundaes with his ill-gotten gains, cementing the lesson that winning was sweet, but the money had to be kept in circulation.

And then his last day of college. The day when Caleb had told dear ole dad that he was bucking family tradition and basically becoming the enemy. A cop. And when he’d threatened, in cocky righteousness, that if his dad didn’t dump his new partner and go straight, Caleb was leaving the family. That’d been the point his dad had told him to get his ass out.

Good times.

Caleb took a deep breath, his eyes meeting the wide hazel gaze of the pretty redhead behind the counter. He frowned at the sympathy and concern on her face. In the past eight years, he’d faced down whacked-out drug addicts and homicidal drug lords for a living with a blank face. Why did this pretty little thing think there was anything to be sympathetic over? Something to mull over later. Right now he had to pay the piper.

Caleb slowly turned around, automatically shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rocking back on his heels. He’d known this moment would come, but now that it had, he wasn’t ready. He’d walked away from his family and used that lack of emotional ties in building his career. But now he was back, face-to-face with his father.

And he had no idea how he felt about it.

Like a bull who’d suddenly hit a steel wall, Tobias slammed to a halt. His midnight-blue eyes went huge. But only for a second. Then he grinned. A charming grin that Caleb knew was hiding that shock he hadn’t meant to show.

“Well, well,” Tobias said, slowly walking forward. “What have we here? If it isn’t the prodigal son.”

3

OH, MY. MR. TALL, HOT and Dangerous was one of the wild and mysterious Black clan? Along with the rest of the gawpers standing around the store, Pandora stared, rapt, as the two men faced off.

“Wow,” Fifi breathed.

Pandora nodded. Wow, indeed.

The Black clan was legend. History said a Black had founded the small town a hundred years back. But for all their standing in the town, people still passed rumors and innuendo in whispers, wondering where the Black fortune came from. Everything from inheriting from an eccentric relative to robbing banks to wise investments. All anyone knew for sure was that they were the wealthiest family in Black Oak, that Tobias’s wife had died of leukemia before his youngest child could walk, and until five years ago when Tobias had opened a custom motorcycle shop, they hadn’t appeared to work for a living.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Tobias was saying. Pandora frowned, though. The older man didn’t look so much surprised as … What? She studied his body language, the way he rocked back on his heels, the set of his shoulders. If she had to guess, she’d say he looked satisfied.

“I didn’t realize I had to check in with you as soon as I crossed the city limits,” Caleb returned.

“Check in?” Tobias’s hearty laugh filled the store, making half the customers smile in response. “Son, you know I don’t make rules like that. But if I’d known you were gonna be in town for the holidays, I’d have had Mrs. Long get your room ready.”

Caleb’s only response was an arched brow.

Pandora tensed. They seemed amiable enough, but she still felt as if she was watching a boxing match. The two men circled each other without even moving. The gorgeously sexy biker looked even more dangerous than he had when he’d walked in. On the surface, he was relaxed, leaning against the wall. She could see the bored look on his narrow face and the general sense of screw-you surrounding him. But his feet gave him away. Instead of crossed at the ankle, or rocked back on the heels, his boots were planted as if he were ready to run.

This reunion was a family thing. Private. Especially if one of them decided to throw a punch.

“Maybe the two of you would like some privacy,” she offered. The customers turned as one, a few shooting her guilty looks while the rest glared. Black Oak loved its gossip.

“No.” Caleb shook his head before stepping forward to lay a warm, strong hand on Pandora’s arm. The only thing that kept her from gasping and scurrying away was a desperate need to not add more fuel to the already out-of-control whisperfest brewing.

“We need to talk, son,” Tobias insisted. His words were quiet, they were friendly and they were offered with a smile. They were also hard as steel.

“Maybe later,” Caleb dismissed them. “Right now Pandora’s promised me lunch.”

“What?” she yelped. Caleb’s fingers tightened on her arm.

“Really?” Tobias said at the same time, drawing the word out and giving them both a toothy smile.

Rock, meet hard place. Pandora’s eyes swept the store, noting the slew of avid townspeople staring, waiting to see what she did. A few even mouthed the words stay here. Even the cats were watching her, Bonnie with her head tilted in curiosity, Paulie peering at her through slitted eyes, as if she was disturbing his nap. Then her gaze met Caleb’s.

His eyes didn’t beg. His face was passive. He simply returned her stare, his eyes steady. She could only hold his look for a few seconds, the intensity of those gold eyes sending crazy swirls of sexual heat spiraling down through her belly.

“Um, yes. Lunch,” she murmured, finally pulling her arm out from under his hand. Needing to move, she headed toward the café.