The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [259]
“Well, why doesn’t he pull it out?”
“No, no, the accent. It’s total. And they like me, Dallas. I mean, they just slathered, like, all over me.”
“Again, I repeat: Yippee.”
“I don’t know why I was so nervous and freaky. It’s just piles of fun on top of more. The shuttle ride was so uptown, and then, wow, the scenery is so completely mag. It’s like a vid or something, and—”
“Peabody, I’m glad you’re having a good time. Seriously. But I’m trying to get home here, so I can grab a little Christmas cheer myself.”
“Sorry, sorry. Wait, first, did you get the presents I left on your desk?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Oh.” Peabody’s face went through several expressions, ending on a pout. “You’re welcome.”
“We didn’t open them yet.”
“Oh! Oh, okay.” The pout turned into a nervous grin. “You want to wait until tomorrow. I just wondered. So, well . . . Anything I should know on the case?”
“Nothing that can’t wait until you get back. Go eat some—what is it—haggis.”
“I might. I’ve already had a really big whiskey, and it’s dancing in my head. But I don’t care! It’s Christmas. And last year you and I were mad at each other, and now we’re not. I love you, Dallas, and Roarke, and every bony inch of McNab. And his cousin Sheila. Merry Christmas, Dallas.”
“Yeah, you bet.” She cut off before Peabody could get started again. But she was smiling as she rolled through the gates toward home.
The house was lit as if it were night, and an icy mist rolled over the ground, sparkled just a little in the lights. She could see trees shimmering, candles glowing, and heard the patter of that cold, hard rain on the roof of her vehicle.
She stopped, just stopped in the middle of the drive. Just to look, and to think, and remember. Inside was warmth, fires burning with the crackle of real wood. Everything in her life had somehow navigated her here. Whatever the horrors had been, the pain and blood, whatever dogged her dreams like a hound, had brought her here. She believed that.
She had this because she’d survived the other. She had this because he’d been waiting on the other side of the road. Navigating his own trenches.
She had home, where the candles were lit and the fires were burning. It was good, she thought, to take a moment to remember that, and to know, whatever else she faced, this was here.
And if she couldn’t just enjoy it for twenty-four hours, what was the point?
She dashed into the house, shook rain from her hair. For once, Summerset wasn’t lurking in the foyer, but even as she tugged off her coat, Roarke strolled out of the parlor.
“And there you are.”
“Later than I thought, sorry.”
“I only got in a few minutes ago myself. Summerset and I are having a drink by the fire. Come, sit down.”
“Oh, well.” Summerset. They’d have to be civil to each other. It was like a holiday law. “I have to take care of something first.” She concealed a small bag behind her back. “Need a few minutes.”
“Secrets.” He wandered over to kiss her. And to peek over her shoulder. She shifted, poked a finger in his belly.
“Cut it out. I’ll be down in a minute.”
He watched her go up, then walked back into the parlor to sit by the fire with Summerset and enjoy his Irish coffee. “She’s smuggling in some last-minute gift.”
“Ah. I’ll garage the vehicle she no doubt left out in this weather, in a moment.”
“Of course. And as much as I believe the two of you enjoy your mutual sniping, we might try a moratorium on that until Boxing Day.”
Summerset lifted a shoulder. “You look relaxed.”
“And so I am.”
“There was a time, not that long ago, when you’d have been out hounding some deal right up until the last moment. At which time, you’d have been off with the woman of the moment. Christmas in Saint Moritz or Fiji. Wherever your whim took you. But not here.”
“No, not here.” Roarke picked up one of the little frosted cookies Summerset had arranged on a glossy red dish. “Because, I realize now, here would have made it impossible for