Home for Christmas: New Adult Holiday Dark Suspense Romance by Emme Rollins Page B

as she sipped her milk. It was white milk this time, but full-fat. It helped make her feel full.
    “Um...” He pointed at his badge and then up at the sign—Dunkin’ Donuts—grinning.
    “Are you telling me that stereotype is true?” She smirked.
    “They have to come from somewhere.”
    “You’re really getting donuts?”
    “Actually, I’m getting coffee.” He laughed. “Want something?”
    “Umm...” She looked at her milk, then at him. It was hard to turn down free food, but she knew accepting would just encourage him, and she wasn’t so sure she wanted to do that.
    “I think they sell ham and cheese sandwiches,” he said, tempting her.
    “No.” She shook her head, waving him away. “Thanks anyway.”
    “You sure?” he glanced over his shoulder as he neared the counter again. The girl working had full sleeves full of tattoos, a nose stud, and wore her black hair, with lightning streaks of blue, pulled back into a ponytail.
    “Can I help you?” she asked, looking Nick up and down in his uniform. Not that he didn’t look good in it—he did, Ginny had to admit.
    “I’ll take a hot chocolate,” Ginny called out toward the counter. “And a bear claw. And maybe an éclair?”
    “Anything else?” Nick grinned over his shoulder at her.
    “No, that’s it.” Ginny’s cheeks grew pink when the goth girl gave her a knowing look.
    “Cream or custard?” Nick asked when he gave the girl Ginny’s order.
    “Custard,” Ginny piped up.
    “Good choice.” Nick pulled out his wallet, turning back to the tattooed girl. “I’ll also take a large coffee, black. Oh, and a raspberry jelly filled.”
    She rang it all up and put it in a tray that Nick carried over to Ginny’s booth.
    “Aren’t you on duty?” she asked as he slid in across from her, already biting into her éclair.
    “Small town, remember?” He opened the steam vent on the top of his coffee and patted his belt. “Anyway, I’ve got my radio.”
    “I knew you were a cop.” She looked at him speculatively, licking custard off her fingers.
    “How did you know?” He raised his eyebrows, looking at her over the rim of his cup.
    “You walk like a cop.”
    “How does a cop walk?” He snorted a laugh.
    “Like you own the world.” She grabbed a napkin, but it didn’t do much for her sticky fingers.
    “Cops aren’t the bad guys, Ginny,” he said softly, frowning. “We’re the good guys.”
    “Uh-huh.” She blew on the top of her hot chocolate, cooling it. “So are you on duty all night?”
    The thought of him patrolling the parking lot all night gave her a cold chill. How often had he done that already? She wondered.
    “Most of it.” He stretched and yawned. He really was a good-looking guy, and she thought he knew it. He saw the way the goth girl looked at him. The way Chloe Clay had practically invited him back to her hotel room. Ginny wasn’t about to give him the same satisfaction by fawning all over him. “Good overtime opportunities around the holidays.”
    “Good for the wallet. Not so great for the family?” she asked, taking a sip of hot chocolate. It was too hot, but delicious. God, she missed chocolate.
    “No family,” he replied.
    “No wife?” She looked at him, surprised.
    “Nope.”
    “Girlfriend?” She cocked her head, frowning. She was sure he was married, or at least attached. Most guys would have picked up on the tattooed girl’s look. And Chloe Clay’s offer had been pretty obvious, even to her.
    “Position’s open.” He smirked.
    “I wasn’t fishing.”
    “Sure you were.” He laughed. “Maybe not for fish, but you were asking for a reason.”
    “Cops.” Ginny shook her head, rolling her eyes as she drank her hot chocolate.
    “What’s that mean?”
    “You’re always interrogating.”
    “I wasn’t the one asking the questions.” He grinned. “How about you?”
    “Me what?” she asked, glancing over at the goth girl, who was arranging the end of the day donuts on a