“I don’t understand,” I say to Aaron. My heart hurts, and the lambskin lining of my coat is scratchy against my back. I feel vulnerable and a little sick from watching the bizarre exchange between him and the other biker. Someone from his past? “You want me to leave?”

Every time that man looked over at me and smirked, I felt a chill run down my back that made me pull my coat around me closer, like a layer of armor. I didn’t feel comfortable with him here, with the way he was talking to Aaron, or with the way Aaron reacted. I smelled trouble on that man, thick as body odor and beer fumes.

Fortunately, he was only around for about five minutes before Aaron basically escorted him out the door. I sigh with relief once the door closes behind him—but it catches in my throat as I see the man walk over to one of the frosted windows and stand there outside, trying to peer in.

Aaron comes over and tells me that I should leave. And I protest, of course. He doesn’t seem to know what to say. “Look,” he starts, then coughs into his fist and glances at the window. “Things just got complicated.”

“I thought they were already complicated,” I say quietly as the bartender brings me my Irish coffee.

“They are. But God knows I don’t want you caught up in any of what just went on, so we’re probably going to have to take a break from each other for a while. I’ll try to still be around the church to help out and stuff, but we shouldn’t...associate.” He speaks so reluctantly that my heartache eases a little.

“How long?” I ask in a pained tone, and his hand brushes mine, maybe on instinct.

“Just a few days. We probably need to cool off anyway.” Another regretful look. “But you already know that.”

“No, I don’t.” I’ve never felt so sure about anything in my life. “No regrets about this afternoon, Aaron. None.”

He sighs through his nose and nods. “You’re really selling yourself short, sweetheart. I’m trouble. I don’t mean to be, but it follows me around.”

Now I just want to hug him even more than I usually do. He’s always the one to sacrifice for others. But I won’t let him do it this time. “Who is that man?”

“That’s Daniel,” he replies in a falsely light tone, looking over at the window again. The man’s creepy silhouette still stands there, his breath wearing through the frost. “That’s my brother.”

My eyes widen. Oh shit. He’s warned me about his brother before.

Aaron has told me a lot about himself, probably more than anyone else in town. It started back when he was drinking more and had just started to realize that he could tell me anything: the gang he was pulled into too young, the crimes he witnessed and had to play lookout for, Daniel’s impulsiveness and violence.

He told me about the day his brother beat a bank executive into a coma because the poor man panicked during a robbery and couldn’t remember the safe combination. Daniel, who owed crippling debts to some terrifying people, flew into a rage out of desperation. Only Aaron restraining him had stopped Daniel from committing murder.

The man, addled by terror and an anxiety disorder, got the two brothers mixed up in the line-up, insisting that Aaron attacked him. The police detective had refused to believe it; he had noticed Daniel’s criminal record, and Aaron’s lack of one.

Aaron took the fall anyway. He told me that he did it because Daniel was two felonies in and was about to get life in prison without parole. I cried when I found out.

“Why is he here?” I ask incredulously, keeping my voice low.

“He wants to take me back to New Orleans with him.” He scratched his check, rubbing at his five o’clock shadow as his lips twisted in disgust. “Back to the club. For keeps.”

“How did they end up in New Orleans?” I feel like I’m a step behind suddenly. I know I have no business expecting him to tell me every damn thing, but something crazy is going on, and I need help sorting it out in my head.

The bartender brings him a single shot of whiskey and he swallows it down like medicine. “Daniel and the Laughing Boys couldn’t hack it in the Northeast. So he led all five of the remaining members down the coast to the Big Easy three years ago. I only found out about it through one of the guys that left the club.”

“And now they’re having trouble in New Orleans, and he wants your help.” No, absolutely not. There is no way I am putting up with him being dragged away when he’s just starting to be happy again. Not when we’re right on the brink of being together.

“That’s pretty much it.” He gets a regular coffee as his next drink. He’s on duty after all, and I know that for him only the coffee is free.

“My brother knew where to look. I grew up here, after all. So, did he. Difference is I always wanted to come back to Phoenicia, and I made the mistake of admitting that.”

“We have to get him away from here.” I want to cry at the thought of Aaron leaving—and it makes me want beat this guy’s ass. But of course, I’m not really the type to do either. I would rather find some sane way of fixing the problem.

“You just let me take care of this situation, sweetheart. He’s a drunk, he’s violent, and he’s not used to New York winters anymore. I don’t think he’ll be able to keep out of trouble, and I don’t want you anywhere near him.” His hand covers mine briefly, comfortingly.

It makes me want to take him by the hand and lead him outside and down the street to his trailer. But he’s at work, and I know I have to be patient.

I suddenly feel stupid. He won’t be free for hours, but when I left home all I was thinking about was what I would do to him once he was done work. Maybe he’s right, and I’m too damned young to be out here like this.

And if I had not come, that creep would not know my face now, or know that I’m associated with Aaron, and that will probably cause even more issues for Aaron. He is already talking about a cooling-off period, even if it’s short.

“What can I do?” I ask him softly, brushing his fingers with mine.

“Don’t let him get near you. Don’t let him follow you home. Do you have your truck?” His voice sounds harsh, full of worry. I blush.

“I walked down. It was almost clear out and I was stiff from earlier so I needed it.” Crap. I really am naive sometimes. Though really, how could I have anticipated that a dangerous scumbag from his past would be here?

“Shit. Okay. Can you get a friend to take you back?” He glances at the window again. Daniel is pacing slowly, hands behind back. My stomach flips and I nod. “Good. I can’t leave my post and take you back home right now.”

“Okay.” My heart’s in my boots now. Stupid. “I just wanted to see you.”

His smile looks too forced for my comfort. “Normally that wouldn’t be a problem. But there’s just too much going on. With you, with this.” He looks so tired. “I’ve gotta finish my shift without anything else crazy happening.”

“I understand. I’ll just stay right here until my ride picks me up.” I swallow a lump in my throat and cover my unhappy look with a big gulp of coffee.

He touches my back, leaving a tingling spot in its wake. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”

He leaves me as I start looking through my phone to see what friends in town would still be up after nine, and I’m fighting tears. This isn’t how things were supposed to go.

There’s only one thing in this world that I want just for me, and that’s him. Cute cars, a rich lifestyle, and some boyfriend thrown at me by my father with his stamp of approval are all luxuries that I can live without. But more and more, it feels like I just can’t live without Aaron.

I’m starting on my second cup of coffee when the door opens, making me jump. It’s not Daniel, though, but chubby, lovable Dr. Whitman, decked out in a forest green coat. He smiles at me warmly as he approaches, and stops by the bar stool that Daniel vacated. “Is this seat taken?”

“It is now.” I have to force my smile as he settles onto it. “How are you doing, Doctor?”

“I’m doing well, though I think I should warn you that it is going to be quite a snowy Christmas.” He winks. “But at least less people will be going hungry and cold than before.”

“Yeah, about that,” I venture carefully, grateful for the sudden and important distraction. “Do you have any idea how much the company you hired actually sent over?”

I still can’t quite believe that anyone wealthy would be so generous without any encouragement. I’ve never seen it before, except with the Whitmans. But perhaps that’s part of what makes them special.

His smile becomes part wince. “As I understand it, they were both early and generous. I apologize about the early part. I let my son make the arrangements this year, and he’s always been a touch...mischievous.”

I nod slowly, feeling vindicated. I knew it. Jack’s responsible for all the mistletoe around! Or they’re in it together. But I keep that thought to myself. “It’s okay, a whole lot of people now have food and fuel in time for Christmas and the storm. That’s more important than anything else.”

“Pass on my apology to your father, will you?” The old man’s tone is so gentle. I nod...and feel my chin trembling.

It’s been a long day. I’m kind of emotional, especially after coming down here like this, making myself vulnerable to rejection...and walking right into drama that I never expected. Clearly Aaron, who stands stiffly at his post by the door, didn’t expect it either.

“Are you all right?” Whitman asks. “You seem rather sad for someone who was just talking about a stroke of luck.”

I press my lips together and look down. This old man is our own version of Grandpa Woodstock, another New York legend. Everyone confides in him. But this is something I can’t even bring up to my own father. Not comfortably, anyway.

“I need to ask you something before I get into anything like that,” I hedge, needing time. “Are you responsible for the mistletoe all over town?”

I can’t help but ask. I saw tons of it on the way up—one more over-the-top element of Christmas in Phoenicia—which only makes me suspect the Whitmans even more. There’s bushels of the stuff strung up on the eaves of houses, on the awnings of businesses, in doorways...everywhere.

His eyes twinkle as he accepts the change of subject. “Do you like it?”

“It got me my first kiss with the guy I like, so yes. But I was wondering the reason why you and Jack put that stuff up all over.” His smile widens and I hesitate. “You...did...put all those plants up, right?”

“I never said that,” he replies cagily. “In fact, I neither set them there with my hands, nor paid for them with my money.”

“Did Jack?” What is going on? Whatever it is, he seems to be way too amused by all of this.

“I’m afraid that you would have to ask him,” is his infuriating answer. “But you aren’t actually upset over some handfuls of mistletoe, are you?”

I hesitate. But then I look over at Aaron, who glances my way but stays impassive. Pain grips my heart, and I shake my head.

“Well, the short version is, I’ve met the guy I want to marry, and he loves me back. And thanks to the mistletoe trick, we kissed earlier. But the guy’s older than me, he’s got a past, and he doesn’t think he deserves me. Neither does my father.

“I was about ready to just start dating the guy and face the consequences later. But now his scumbag brother is in town, trying to make him go away with him forever.” My voice gets a little squeaky at the end, and I stop to fight back tears.

“Oh dear. Well, that won’t do at all.” His brow furrows as he glances out the window at Daniel’s silhouette. The man is starting to rub his arms and hunch over.

It’s amusing, but it doesn’t make me feel much better. “I’m really worried that this creep will blackmail him into leaving. Or do something worse. My friend is strong, but he’s the kind of man who will sacrifice everything for someone he cares about. I can’t let him leave to protect me. I need to find a way to help him stay.”

He looks over at Aaron as well, and then smiles knowingly. “Have you told this man how you feel about him?”

“I...kissed him.” I look at him in confusion.

He chuckles. “Oh, I understand. Well, kisses can mean many things, even between lovers. You need to tell him everything. Give him the reasons why you offer your heart. Give him a reason to stay so that he will never give up.”

I don’t know if he’s incredibly wise or drunk as hell and determined to sound profound—the whole town knows he has a weakness for schnapps, especially around the holidays. It works, though. I know what I have to do suddenly, as if a puzzle piece has finally snapped into place. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “That won’t be easy to do, but I’ll...find a way.” If I can.

“You’re quite welcome. Now as I understand it, you probably want a ride out of here so you can avoid that nasty little fellow on the sidewalk.” He winks, and I manage a smile.

“Thank you. Yes, I would.” Daniel can kiss my ass. I am going to stay out of his way and work as hard as I can against his purposes, by taking Whitman’s advice.

I try to sleep for a while after I get home. I manage a nap, still half in my clothes, the covers pulled up to my chin. Around midnight, my father stumbles past my door on the way to the bathroom and peers in, as if confused by the open door. I pretend to be asleep, and he moves on.

Later, I roll over and look at my phone. It’s three-thirty in the morning, half an hour to last call. Dad won’t be out of bed until it’s time to clean up for late morning service.

I shouldn’t do this. But Whitman’s words ring in my ears. The terrible sense that time is running out, and that I have to act now to make sure that Aaron stays, haunts me as I pull my coat, scarf and gloves back on and stomp into my boots.

I don’t quite beat Aaron home. Fresh snow is scraped off on the steps leading up to his door, and his lights are on. I walk up to the door, steeling myself, and knock twice.

I hear excited barking, and then footsteps. A few moments later the door opens, spilling warm air out onto my chilled face, stinging my skin. Aaron barely has his coat off and his hair is still mussed from his hat. His eyes widen when he sees me.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he protests, and I just smile and brush past him into the trailer. Moose ambles up, thumping his tail. I give him a friendly scratch as Aaron sighs and closes the door. “Dammit, Jules.”

“I think I should be here,” I insist softly. “I think we have some unfinished business.”

“We can’t. I can’t.” He moves past me, settling onto the tiny brown built-in couch and dropping his shaggy head into his hands. “I’m flattered as hell, but—” he starts.

I scowl. “Don’t give me that. You want this as badly as I do.”

I know that I can put an end to this argument right away, in a way he’s not going to have much power to resist. Mostly because he won’t want to. But as I move closer to him and I see the bleak look in his eyes, I can’t help but hesitate. I want him on board without any kind of...influence.

“Look,” I say softly as I stand over him. “I’ve had a crush on you since I first saw you, okay? Then you became my friend, but I never stopped wanting you. It’s only gotten worse over time.”

He closes his eyes and tips his head back like I just slapped him. I wonder how he’s spent so long alone. How could any woman see that look and not want to hug him and make it better? Because he’s big and scary-looking?

So is Moose, and he spends a quarter of his time being cuddled by small children.

“It’s been that way for me too,” he admits, and my heart aches at the desperation in the back of his eyes. “I don’t want anyone else, ever. I want you. No lie. But I’m not good for you. You deserve—”

“I deserve to make my own damn decisions about who I choose to be with,” I reply insistently. “I want to be with you. I want you to stay here, and build your life here like you’ve been doing—but I want you to build it with me. You know we’d be great together—we always are.”

He stares at me in amazement.

“Please,” I say softly as I walk right up to him, reaching over to run my hands through his shaggy hair. “Don’t let anyone get in the way. Not Daniel, not my father. We both want this, don’t we?”

I want it—breathlessly. Even if it ends up hurting. I want his body against mine. I want to know what his cock will feel like inside of me. I want to hear him groan with pleasure again, and have him do things to me that will make me scream.

He’s in so much pain, and he’s so isolated. I want to fix it. “I don’t know much about relationships, but when you really want to sleep with the guy who makes you happier than anyone else, isn’t that a good thing? Especially if you’re both single and into the idea?”

That gets me a thin smile. “Normally, yes. But you’re forgetting that you’re the preacher’s daughter, that you’re in training to replace him, and that in general, you’re a fucking angel, while I’m…”

“You’re what, Aaron?” I glare at him. “If you say you’re just like Daniel, you’re going to catch hell for it.”

He holds up his hands, shaking his head. “No, but I’m not great. Even though I didn’t touch that guy they popped me for, I’ve broken the law a lot. I’m not innocent of wrongdoing.

“I was the club’s lookout. I helped guard their clubhouse. I didn’t go to that bank knowing Daniel planned to rob it, but I was still there. And I stood there too long yelling at my brother to stop instead of stopping him.”

The guilt in his voice tells me that’s the real reason he’s still so ashamed—maybe even the reason he accepted the jail sentence. He didn’t save an innocent man from his brother’s fists. He was a bystander instead of a hero. “And you think that I deserve someone who would jump in to protect me right away. No hesitation.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“It’s funny, because you’re one of two people in my life that I trust completely to do just that. Otherwise, I would never have fallen in love with you.”

He flinches away from my smile like he’s staring at the sun, and I wait patiently until he looks back before going on. “That big, bad part of you that you think would scare me off, it only comes out when you need it. I don’t know how you were when you were twenty-four, but I know that that part of you would jump to protect me or any other innocent person around here now.”

He can’t speak right now or look at me, so I bend over and hug him tight, because I can’t hold back any more. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me against him, burying his face against my breasts.

The feel of his breath against my skin, even through the weave of the scarf, makes me tingle. I tremble slightly, knowing he is about to discover a secret I’ve carried most of the night, just for him. If anything can pull him from his grief and doubt, it’s that.

“Maybe I am a better man now than I was then,” he mumbles. “But I still don’t deserve you, baby.”

“If you want me, you should leave that decision up to me,” I murmur soothingly, stroking his hair. “It’s my choice. It’s yours, too. Respect that.”

And then I let out a little laugh, and finally unleash my confession. “Besides, I’m not perfect. I did kind of come here to screw your brains out.”

He blinks up at me slowly, astonishment gradually replacing all signs of self-loathing. “Well...damn.”

I lean down and kiss him, and he squeezes me tightly against him before his mouth runs down from mine, sliding over my throat. My eyes roll closed. Oh yes.

Then his mouth moves lower, and he unties the scarf and throws it aside to get at more of my skin—and stops dead. He notices, finally, that there is no collar to unbutton. The skin beneath is bare.