3 Days to Christmas
Lucas recentered the towering floral arrangement on Riley’s tidy desk, took a step back to assess, and then stepped forward to re-recenter the elaborate edifice of red roses, candy canes, fresh holly berries, sprigs of snow-dusted juniper, and a bunch of unknown other flowers, all crammed into a large hand-painted ceramic sleigh.
He smiled in grim satisfaction.
The thing was ridiculous, but there could be no doubt that anyone willing to purchase that exorbitantly-priced monument to conspicuous Christmas consumerism was clearly crazy about the recipient. Or possibly just crazy. But yeah, in this case, crazy about the recipient.
Also unable under pressure to come up with a better idea.
The finishing touch was a small, ivory envelope tied discreetly to a rose stem with a crimson silk ribbon. Inside the envelope, a simple card read Guess who? in Lucas’ tidy, tiny block print.
Was there something he’d forgotten? He couldn’t help feeling he was missing something.
He’d had no word from Riley since Saturday night, and by now he was genuinely worried and feeling a little reckless. Hence this three-foot high, very expensive apology-in-greenery. Hopefully, Riley would be able to see the message hidden behind all the shrubbery: I’m sorry. I love you. I miss you.
Lucas gave the arrangement one final twitch and retreated to his office to wait.
Riley was late.
Well, no. Technically he was not late. But usually, typically, even on the rare nights he didn’t stay at Lucas’, he arrived at the office early.
The fact that he arrived after Rainy—Lorraine Hunsakerto, their civilian administrative specialist (i.e.
, receptionist and unofficial den mother of the Silver Pine RA)—seemed a bad sign to Lucas.
He was in the midst of typing up the finalized version of his resource requests when he heard the muted sound of the security door. A moment later he heard Rainy’s cheery greeting and Riley’s response.
Just that. Just the sound of Riley’s quiet, pleasant voice seemed to flip a switch inside Lucas. He could feel himself lighting up. He waited, hoping that just maybe Riley might swing by his office first, just to say hey, just to reassure Lucas he was worrying about nothing.
But no.
In fact, he couldn’t help feeling there was something ominous in what felt like a sudden and complete silence.
And then, faintly, from down the hall, came the distinct sound of a sneeze. Not any sneeze. Riley’s sneeze, which sounded—to the great amusement of the entire Silver Pine RA when Riley had first arrived—like a cat with a head cold. High-pitched, squeaky, and just a little indignant.
Lucas’ heart, already losing altitude, began to spiral.
He now remembered what it was he had forgotten earlier. Riley was allergic to several varieties of flowers.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered, and pushed back his chair.
“Sounds like somebody’s coming down with a cold,” Rainy commented as Lucas passed the front desk. She was grinning.
Lucas lurched to a stop in Riley’s doorway.
Riley stood a safe distance from his desk. His gaze moved from the small card he held to Lucas. His eyes, bluer than ice floes beneath the winter sun, held an expression Lucas had never seen before.
“Guess who?” he said. “Really? Did you remember to wipe your fingerprints, too?”
“W-w-what?” Lucas stuttered.
“Do you honest to God imagine there’s a single person in this fucking RA who doesn’t know the full extent of our relationship?”
As shocked and unprepared for this reaction as Lucas was, he didn’t fail to register that fucking RA comment, and it flayed him on a very tender part of his ego.
Like everyone else, he remained unclear as to what had brought an agent of Riley’s caliber to a wilderness outpost like Silver Pine.
Riley had been noncommittal in his interview, citing his appreciation of the outdoors, his love of skiing and backpacking.
Naturally, it had raised suspicions in Lucas’ mind, but Riley’s service record was exemplary.
SA Christopher had a textbook Bureau trajectory: commendations for field performance, solid conviction stats, a reputation for initiative and team cohesion.
The kind of file that usually got agents fast-tracked into major field assignments—not relocated to a town with more deer than felons.
So, hell yeah, Lucas had jumped to hire him.
Even after they were romantically involved, Riley had never expanded on his reasons for leaving the Los Angeles field office.
“Are you sure I know who?” Riley’s sardonic voice interrupted his thoughts.
Lucas sputtered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Riley shrugged. “Maybe I don’t know who. Maybe I have a secret admirer.” He added scornfully, “Oh wait, that’s you.”
Lucas felt that hot flush from the soles of his feet to his hairline.
It had been a long time since he’d had to go to war with anyone, and Riley was the last person he’d have expected (or wanted) to go up against, but he recovered from the surprise attack fast—and, unfortunately, reverted instantly to the ferocious tactics of his unhappy adolescence.
He drawled, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to take out an advertisement?”
Riley went perfectly still. He stared for a long, unblinking moment, as though estimating target distance.
Lucas heard the echo of his words, and unlike his youthful self, remembered that nothing was worth wrecking this relationship for the fleeting pleasure of annihilating the person who’d hurt his feelings. Especially given that this was the same person he’d willingly die to protect.
He said quickly, “Stop. No. Whatever you think I meant, I did not mean that.”
“Mean what?” Riley was cold and unsmiling.
Lucas said quickly, a little desperately, “Riley. You know how Saturday night you said you were trying to be playful, to keep it light when you gave me that ulti—challenge? That’s all I was doing with the card.
It was supposed to be a-a romantic gesture.
The flowers, I mean. The card was meant to be a private joke. I didn’t mean to…to upset you.”
They both jumped as Rainy spoke from behind Lucas. “You two aren’t alone in this building. Sackler and Terrazzino are here.” She shut the door with a small, disapproving bang.
It broke the spell.
Sort of.
Lucas moved toward the desk, saying, “I’m a jackass. I forgot you’re allergic to flowers. I’ll get them out of here.”
Riley shook his head. “It’s not the flowers, Luc. It’s not the card. It’s not where we go on vacation or if we go anywhere at all. It’s the fact that, for you, the job, this RA, is always going to come first.”
It had the ring of a prepared statement and the knowledge that Riley had already made up his mind shook Lucas.
“That’s not true,” he protested.
Riley said with weary finality, “It is absolutely true. We both know it. I love my job, too, but I don’t want my life to be the job. I want more. And for a long time, I thought...” He raised his shoulder in dismissal. “Nothing would’ve made me happier than to have that…more with you.”
Just for an instant, he seemed to waver. But if there was one trait Riley had in plenty, it was resolve. He continued steadily, “But it’s not going to happen. You are who you are. I am who I am. And if we keep pushing each other for something the other can’t give, we’ll lose the friendsh—”
“No,” Lucas cut in quickly, urgently. “You’re wrong. Listen. I was going to tell you; you’ve got the rest of the month off.”
This was news to Lucas, but he was now in full panic.
Riley’s jaw dropped. He looked flabbergasted. And not nearly as thrilled as Lucas had hoped. “The hell I am.”
“Yes. You am. Are. You’re off duty. I’ve approved your vacation request.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t— You can’t— That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t—”
“Yes. Hell, yes. You’re tired. You’re—you said you were feeling burnt out,” Lucas was practically babbling in his effort to override Riley before he said something there was no going back from.
“You need this time. You’re right. I haven’t been fair expecting you to work all these weekends.
If anyone deserves this time off, it’s you. ”
“Are you kidding? You’re sending me on vacation?”
“I’m not sending you anywhere. I’m granting your vacation request.”
“That wasn’t my request!”
Lucas sped on, safety cones flying in his wake. “I’m reassigning your cases, effective immediately. You don’t have to worry about anything. You can relax and unwind—”
Riley actually seemed to lose color. “Reassigning my cases? My cases?”
“Temporarily,” pleaded Lucas in the face of the realization that even this, his final and best card, was making a bad situation even worse. “This is not a reflection on your performance. You know that. This is a-an acknowledgement. It’s a reward.”
“Reward?” Riley hit an octave Lucas would not have thought he—nothing human—was physically capable of reaching. “You think having my cases reassigned is a reward?”
“Just while you’re on vacation. When you get back you can—we can—”
Riley pinched the bridge of his nose, took a couple of long shaky breaths. It was a very un-Riley-like reaction.
Lucas froze, swallowed, said tentatively, “Ry?”
Riley let out a long breath, lowered his hand.
His expression was pale and stony. “You’re right.
I am tired. I do need a fucking break.” He tossed the card on his desk, grabbed his leather jacket—his jacket, not his parka—from the back of his chair, and brushed past Lucas, who stood frozen in place.
“It’s all yours, chief. Merry Christmas.”