Mayhem & Mistletoe, стр. 50
“Then you can use that handy-dandy app on your phone to order some. Trust me, he doesn’t expect you to cook. He doesn’t strike me as the sort of guy who gets turned on by projectile vomiting.”
“What if he wants me to change my last name? I like my last name.”
“He won’t care.”
“What if ... you stop coming around?”
His eyes turned glassy. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead, causing me to jolt. “I’ll always love you. Nothing will ever force me out of your life. I promise. But the best thing for you is Eliot. You have got to get your head around this.”
His words were like a salve in a weird way. They calmed me, even as I forced myself to remember why I was there in the first place. “If I calm down, will you tell me about Hypno?”
“No.” He was completely officious when he pulled back, the moment already behind us. We both needed the cleansing of the conversation, but now he was all business. “I can’t tell you anything because I’m not sure what we’re dealing with.”
“What about the other Santas? Were they drug dealers?”
“I don’t know. As I told you before, we haven’t identified all of them.”
That sounded unlikely to me. “If they were all moving in and out of that halfway house, then they had records. Why can’t you check fingerprints?”
He hesitated and then held out his hands. “I’m not able to discuss our investigative methods with you at this time.”
It was a brush-off, plain and simple. “Do you want me to do another puppet show?”
“All I can say is that this case could lead to something big. Massive.”
Ugh. It would’ve been better if he’d left me locked outside in the cold. “You know I’m not going to give up on this.”
“I know.” He smiled, and for the first time in days there was true light behind it. “You’re a pain in the ass. There’s no way you’ll let it go.”
“I’m going to chase it hard.”
“I expect nothing less.”
“I’m going to make your life a living hell.”
“I expect that, too.”
I held his gaze for a moment before standing. “You’ll be sorry you ever met me by the time I’m finished.”
“I’ll never be sorry I met you. There’s only one Avery Shaw ... and she’ll be part of my life forever.”
“That won’t always be a comfortable fit.”
He held out his hands. “Sometimes life is pain. I can’t help you today. Whatever you have planned, you’re on your own.”
18 Eighteen
I headed back to Eliot’s shop. Mario, still behind the counter, perked up when I walked through the door ... until he realized who was entering the shop.
“I thought you were a hot blonde. I’m so disappointed.”
Eliot glanced up from the receipts he was studying at the opposite counter and snickered when he saw Mario was talking to me.
“Keep it up,” I warned my cousin. “I know people with access to naked baby photos of you. I’ll post them all over the internet.”
He didn’t look worried. “Go ahead. I was a cute baby. I’ll be swimming in dates if you do that.”
“Yes, but how will you keep those dates happy without tiaras to gift them with?” Eliot drawled.
Mario rolled his eyes. “Dude, you need to let that go. I had no idea you had some nefarious plan to milk some poor teenager out of her allowance. I just thought you were keeping that thing for naughty games with my cousin, and it was freaking me out.”
Now it was my turn to make a face. “There are no tiaras when we play naughty games,” I shot back.
“Knowing you, there are probably Star Wars Underoos.” When I didn’t correct him, Mario’s jaw dropped. “Oh, you’re sick. I’m telling your mother. She’ll ground you for life.”
“Go ahead. I’m not afraid of my mother.” That was mostly true. Okay, that was a total lie, but the last thing my cousin needed was additional power over me. “I’m not here to talk to you. I’m here to talk to Eliot. He’s not gross and annoying like you.”
“Oh, baby, you say the sweetest things,” Eliot teased as he leaned in to give me a kiss. Before it landed on my lips, he pulled back. “Have you been crying?”
I wasn’t expecting the question. “I ... no. Why would I be crying?”
“Maybe Harrison Ford died,” Mario suggested.
I extended a warning finger in his direction. “Don’t ever say that! You’ll jinx him.”
“Ugh. You’re such a spoilsport.”
Eliot’s expression was serious as he looked me over. “Let’s go in my office. You and Mario can’t be trusted to act professional in a business setting.”
He might’ve framed it as a dig against me, but I knew what he was really doing. He wanted to know why I’d been crying — I had no one to blame but myself for not waiting to visit — and he wasn’t the type to let it go.
“I would love to join you in your office,” I replied, all faux sweetness. “Perhaps we can play ‘A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away’ while we’re in there.”
Mario’s forehead wrinkled. “What’s that?”
Eliot smirked. “It’s your cousin trying to flirt.”
Mario shook his head. “I’m sure she’s terrible at it. Is that a real game?”
“It is in our house.” Eliot slipped his arm around my shoulders and dragged me into his office, not saying another word until the door was shut and Mario was locked out of our conversation. His fingers immediately went to my cheeks. “Why have you been crying? Did someone hurt you?”
I should’ve realized he would immediately jump to that assumption. “Nobody hurt me. I am altercation-free today — so far. Well, mostly. There was almost an incident with my shark mittens. They were arguing and someone threw chum in the water.” I was going for levity, but it didn’t land.
“Tell me why you were crying,” he pushed. “You never