good Santas are hard to find. And the kids love me.”
“Revered indeed.” Mrs. Penny lived in the gingerbread-styled house next door and at this hour would have her nose pressed to the glass wondering why a car was parked in front of her neighbor’s house. Capri was twenty-seven, but that didn’t mean that every single thing she did wasn’t dutifully reported to her mother and anyone else with the slightest bit of hearing left.
His voice was familiar; he sounded astonishingly like her almost-ex, Seagal West. But that was impossible. Seagal was with the Texas Rangers, and she wasn’t sure exactly where he was working these days. Besides which, Seagal wore Stetsons—she’d bet her last cup of Christmas cheer he wouldn’t be caught dead in a festive red Santa cap.
Complete coincidence.
“Go away before you wake my neighbor!” Capri said, though she was dying to know what had happened tonight. Something told her that if she opened the door, she’d be face-to-face with more than a handsome cop. Sexy Santas were not on her Christmas list.
“I’ve been assigned to you. So open up, doll, before we scandalize the entire neighborhood, and not just the mystery-scribbling Mrs. Penny.”
Assigned to her? Capri jerked open the door. He was dressed in regular street wear: casual jeans, loose shirt not tucked in, boots. Standard Stetson, for him.
It was the Bridesmaids Creek Santa.
And he was killer handsome, just as he’d always been.
Unfortunately, Santa was also her almost-ex-husband, the only man guaranteed to break her heart. “What do you mean, assigned to me?” Capri demanded. “What is going on, Seagal?”
“Can I come in?”
“Absolutely not.” She raised her chin and closed the door an inch. “Say what you have to say right there.”
He shrugged, and Capri could tell he was amused by her demand. “Suit yourself. But Mrs. Penny just raised her window about three inches so she can hear us. If you want your business broadcast in Bridesmaids Creek, and rumors of us getting back together—”
“Make it snappy,” she said, pulling him inside.
He smiled. “Hello, beautiful.”
“Keep it professional, if you’re here in a professional capacity, Seagal,” she said, realizing she sounded as prickly as a spiny cactus. “Long time, no see.”
He glanced at her stomach, and she realized Seagal felt awkward. As if he wasn’t certain whose baby she carried.
“Yes, Seagal,” she said with a sigh, “we are having a baby.”
His whole demeanor changed.
He looked absolutely thrilled.
“That’s great!” He followed her as she walked into the formal living room of the house they’d once shared. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you left,” she said simply. “You said you needed time to figure things out.”
He looked dumbstruck. “I don’t need to figure anything out. You were the one who said you had doubts.”
This was true. She had said that. The long nights when he was away, the stress of her taking over her grandmother’s flower shop, had put a strain on their marriage. She’d been hurt when Seagal left—and scared that if he found out about the pregnancy, he still wouldn’t want their marriage. Or worse, he’d find out about the pregnancy and feel as if he had to come back to her out of a sense of misplaced responsibility.
The problem was, she’d always been in love with Seagal, and she knew very well he’d married her because he’d been on the rebound. That fact alone had made her very uncomfortable over the two years they’d been married.
“Capri,” he said, “when were you going to tell me about the baby?”
When? When indeed. She hadn’t wanted him to come back only to resent her—and he would have. At least, she thought he would have. “I would have let you know before the birth.”
“Which is tomorrow?” he said, casting a disbelieving glance at her stomach. “When’s the due date?”
She glanced toward the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall. “Hopefully, Valentine’s Day.” She took a deep breath. “But I’ve been having little aches and pains I didn’t have before. The doctor said it’s not anything to be concerned with, but—”
“Good thing I was assigned to you.” Seagal sank onto a flowered sofa he’d never been partial to, apparently settling in for the long haul. “I can protect you and be here for the baby’s birth.”
Capri blinked. “So why do I need someone assigned to me? What is going on?”
He looked as if he was considering how much to tell her, and Capri reminded herself that caution had always been one of Seagal’s hallmarks. His other sexy hallmarks included jet-black hair and white teeth. A strong, wide chest. He was tall, as tall as her brother, Beau, who was a good six-two. And so handsome she could hardly take her eyes off him, even though they’d barely spoken during the separation.
“Don’t water down the story, please,” she told Seagal.
“You created the floral displays for Christmastown?” he asked, shifting into cop mode.
“Yes, like I did last year. Everything was almost the same this year, with a few minor changes, mainly involving the types of flowers that were available.”
“This year drugs were concealed in the arrangements. Specifically, pot seeds. They were brought in in the containers you ordered, and then hidden in the bottoms of the vases. It would have been a clever plan if they hadn’t been such blabbermouths. And that guy we nabbed was a rush of good information.”
She frowned. “Impossible, Seagal. I worked on every one of the displays myself.”
He nodded. “I know. That’s what Kelly said. They had to have been concealed after you did the designs. Nice pajamas, by the way.”
She’d forgotten she was in her happy-face pajamas. And it was late. Mrs. Penny would be having a field day—no doubt her phone line was buzzing. “You have to go, Seagal.”
“Actually, I have to stay. Official capacity.”
“I don’t want the rumor mill starting up, and I’m sure you don’t, either.”
He made no move to stand. “I could ask for another officer to take over, but frankly, I figured you’d be more comfortable with me in the house than a cop you don’t know.”
“Not quite,” she said, fibbing like mad. No one would believe that the two of them staying under one roof was coincidental or official. That was the problem. “What happened to Mrs. Penny’s nephew? Kelly said he was supposed to be the Santa.”
“Last-minute change.” Seagal looked pleased about that. “Why didn’t the proverbial grapevine let me know I was going to be a dad? Even in Dallas, I should have heard about it from my old cop
