Free A Cavanaugh Christmas by Marie Ferrarella

and then released it. Braced, she surrendered a fragment, hoping that would satisfy the inquisitive detective and he’d back off. “I promised Megan’s mother that I would bring her home by Christmas,” she told him quietly.
    Tom looked at her for a long moment, hiding his surprise. As cops, they weren’t supposed to make promises like that. Promises that in all likelihood they couldn’t keep, not through lack of desire or trying but because these kinds of situations never lent themselves to an easy resolution. A promise like that unnecessarily raised hopes and then cut a person’s heart out when it fell through.
    As if reading his mind, Kait squared her shoulders defensively. “The woman was literally falling to pieces before my eyes and she needed something to hold on to. I gave it to her.” In her voice, a host of things went unsaid as her tone challenged him to find fault with what she’d done.
    He put a very simple question to her. “What happens when Christmas comes and you’re not able to keep your promise?”
    Kait drew herself up and raised her chin in what seemed to him to be the most sensual movement he could recall seeing in a very long time. “I don’t intend to find out.”
    The woman had bravado, he’d give her that, Tom thought. It wasn’t her ego talking right now, but something else. Exactly what, he wasn’t sure yet, but he intended to be along for the ride so that he could find out just what it was.
    They’d reached his car by now and he put his key into the lock on the driver’s side. Turning it, all four locks sprang open and stood at attention. He opened the rear door directly behind him and placed the half-filled pizza box on the backseat.
    Getting in on his side, he buckled up and then waited for her to do the same. After a beat, the detective from New Mexico sank into her seat and then snapped the seat belt harness into place.
    “Anything wrong?” he asked as he started up his vehicle.
    “No, just reviewing my options.”
    He slanted her a look. He couldn’t help wondering just what sort of options she was reviewing. But when she didn’t elaborate any further, he knew it was futile to try to get anything out of her. Maybe she’d be more forthcoming once she trusted him more. He wondered absently how many more times he was going to have to save her life before that happened.
    “I’ll take you back to the precinct,” he told her as they hit the main thoroughfare. “Then, once you have your car, if you want to take me up on that offer of using one of the spare bedrooms to crash, you’re welcomed to follow me.”
    She still didn’t say anything one way or another. But this time, she smiled.
    He took that as a good sign.
    When they reached the precinct and he parked next to her dust-covered vehicle—it looked as if she’d brought a part of New Mexico along with her—he still had no idea if she was planning on taking him up on his offer or if she planned to travel another road.
    Operating under the assumption that she wasn’t going to follow him to his place, when she got out of his car he offered her the contents of the box sitting on the backseat.
    “Why don’t you take the rest of the pizza with you?” he suggested. “In case you get hungry later on.” He began to twist around in order to get a better grasp on the box.
    “No,” she protested, putting her hand on his arm to stop him. “Leave it where it is.” Withdrawing his hand from the edge of the box, he looked at her quizzically. “This way if I lose sight of your car, I’ll just follow the aroma, instead.”
    She probably was just stubborn enough to manage that. But he wasn’t about to take any chances. “Why don’t I just give you the address?” he suggested, then qualified why he’d said that. “Just in case the wind shifts.”
    “All right.” She waited as he wrote it down, then glanced at the paper he handed her. It looked like a bunch of squiggles square dancing.
    When she frowned, Tom