“Maybe he did.”

“Maybe.”

“Either way,” Ellery said, “chivalry is not dead.”

Jack snorted. “Is that what you call it?”

“Chivalry in the first degree?” Ellery made an inquiring face.

“Yeesh.”

Ellery grinned at that un-Jack-like utterance. “I have news too. According to the island underground, Cyrus has a new lawyer.” He folded his jeans and dropped them on the seat of the valet. Jack was not typically one for ripping one’s clothes off and scattering them around the bedroom—though he had his moments.

“Good luck with that. It’s going to take more than another lawyer to get him out of the jam he’s in.”

“Mm.”

“Mm?”

“It occurs to me, it’s going to get increasingly awkward as people I’ve helped put in jail get out on bail or get parole or serve their time and come back to Pirate’s Cove.” Ellery was partly kidding, although the fact that he’d felt it necessary to speak at Ned Shandy’s bail hearing had brought home the risks of amateur sleuthing in your own backyard.

“Welcome to my world,” Jack said wryly.

“Oh. Right. I guess thatisa problem. Especially in a village.” Ellery took a moment to privately admire the sight of Jack’s lean, tanned body in nothing but white T-shirt and white stretch boxer briefs. He definitely preferred the scenery at Jack’s bungalow. “I guess a lot of people hold grudges?”

Jack pulled back the quilt and bedclothes and climbed into bed, avoiding dislodging Watson, who was already snoozing comfortably at the foot of the bed. “Some people do, for sure. Some people take responsibility for their actions. Some people take their arrest and prosecution personally. You get used to it.” He glanced at Ellery and amended, “I’mused to it. I don’t know how you’ll deal with it.”

“Maybe I won’t have to deal with it.”

Jack said mildly, “If you’re planning to live in Pirate’s Cove for a significant amount of time, you’re eventually going to run into someone who blames you for poking your nose into their business. Unless you’re planning to give up sleuthing?”

Ellery brooded over that unlikelihood for a moment or two. “Have you ever had to arrest a friend?”

Jack gave him a funny look. “Not so far. I came closer than I liked once.”

Ellery realized which particularonceJack was referring to. He said, “I can’t pretend that didn’t hurt.”

“I know. But you don’t go into law enforcement if you’re afraid of conflict.”

“Probably not.” Speaking as the guy who once upon a time had done almost anything to avoid conflict—especially if it meant hurting someone else.

Later, after Jack had spent some time silently but efficiently making up for past transgressions, he murmured, “You know my family’s been trying to get me to fly to LA for the holidays.”

Ellery had been drifting in a pleasantly dreamy bubble of contentment. The bubble popped. But he’d known this was coming. He drew in a breath, said with determined good cheer, “They miss you. You haven’t been back in how long? It’s understandable.”

“I miss them too.” Jack also drew in a breath as though bracing himself. “But I don’t want to go back this year.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” Jack gave him a sideways look. “It’s your first Christmas on the island. I want to be here.”

Just like the Grinch, Ellery felt his heart grow three sizes bigger. “It would be nice to have you here,” he admitted.

Jack nuzzled him beneath his ear. “Yeah?”

Ellery hunched his shoulders, laughing. “Yeah…”

“You’re very ticklish.”