Killer Colton Christmas by Regan Black & Lara Lacombe

Author:Regan Black & Lara Lacombe [Black, Regan & Lacombe, Lara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-11-15T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 2

The next morning was cold and clear, with a sharp chill in the air that made Felicity’s lungs burn a little. She clutched her travel mug of coffee in one hand, holding it close to her face so the thin column of steam that escaped through the lid could warm her nose. Thanks to the Christmas shopping crowds, she’d had to park several blocks away and had spent the last few minutes working her way back to the office. Only a few more steps before she was inside and could thaw out by the space heater near her desk.

She had just stepped onto the sidewalk when a loud bang broke the stillness of the morning. In the next instant, Felicity found herself on the ground, kneeling in a puddle of rapidly cooling coffee, groping for a weapon she no longer carried.

Her heart thundered in her ears and she gasped for breath, her eyes scanning the area as she instinctively searched for threats. After a few seconds her rational mind caught up with things and she realized Shadow Creek was not, in fact, under a mortar attack.

She stood, surveying the sidewalk with a frown. Her travel mug was ruined, the pieces scattered across the cement. The coffee had soaked into her pants, and the fabric clung to her knees in a chilly embrace that made her shiver. She glanced at her watch—there wasn’t enough time to dash home to change them. At least they’re dark gray, she thought wryly. Once everything dried, the stains wouldn’t be too obvious. And there were worse things in life than going through the day smelling like coffee...

“Felicity?”

She turned to find Mr. Perkins approaching. He carried a bag in one hand, and it was clear he was getting an early start on shopping.

“Good morning,” she said, trying to sound normal.

His gaze took in the coffee stain on the sidewalk, the remnants of her mug and the damp spots on her pants. His features softened. “It was a dropped crate.”

“I’m sorry?”

He jerked his head toward the small market at the end of the block. “They were unloading some crates from a truck, and one of them fell off the tailgate. That’s where the noise came from.”

“Oh.” She felt her face heat, a little embarrassed to learn she’d overreacted in such a dramatic fashion to such a simple event.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. It took me a few months before I stopped jumping at every little noise.”

“I don’t even know how it happened,” she confessed. “One minute I was walking along, minding my own business. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground.”

He nodded, as if this made perfect sense. “Gotta love those battlefield reflexes.”

She shrugged, acutely aware of the mess she’d made. She knelt and began picking up the pieces of her mug, and Mr. Perkins joined her.

“For what it’s worth, it gets better,” he said kindly. “When I first got back, I freaked out every time a door so much as slammed shut.

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