Page 63 of Don't Shoot Me Santa

The words landed between them like a trigger pulled in slow motion. Kenny felt the weight of trust Aaron threaded into that phrase when he gave it freely.

“You are.” Kenny held his gaze. “Mygood boy.”

“Pervert.” Aaron winked, quicksilver bright, then he was gone, Chaos trotting close at his heel.

The door shut, and the office felt bigger, colder. Kenny stared at the paperwork in front of him, but all he could feelwas the fading echo of Aaron’s presence, a warmth that had the dangerous power to make even death seem quieter.

And somewhere deep beneath the hum of theory and timelines, Kenny felt the chill of something circling closer.

Whoever this killer was, whatever mercy they thought they were giving, they were watching. And waiting. For the next one.

Kenny intended to watch right back.

* * * *

Aaron arrived at work after a bracing walk that did absolutely nothing to shake the nerves buzzing under his skin.

Maybe it was because of how safe he’d been feeling lately. Home with Kenny had become a soft place to land. Too soft, maybe. No sharp corners, no need to keep his guard up. It was nice. Beautiful, even. But it also felt as though he were shedding a skin he might need later. Like if something came for him now, he’d reach for those old defences and find nothing but marshmallow underneath. No claws. No bite.

That scared him more than he’d admit.

But not as much as what greeted him when he stepped into the centre.

Christmas. Exploded. Everywhere.

Tinsel wrapped around every beam. Strings of lights flashing over the reception counter. And every single person in the office was wearing a jumper with a cartoon dog on the front and the wordsPawsitively Festive!in sparkling red cursive.

“Jesus Christ.” Aaron dropped Chaos’s lead onto the hook and letting the retriever settle obediently into his basket beneath the desk. “Did Christmas throw up in here?”

Tessa tossed a crumpled bundle at his chest. “Boss’sorders.” She jingled as she moved. Today’s earrings were mini sleigh bells.

Aaron caught the jumper and unfolded it with suspicion. A bright red monstrosity featuring a lurcher in a Santa hat staring back at him.

He crumpled the jumper into a ball. “Not happening.”

“Oh, come on!” Tessa pouted. “Bet you’ll look real cute in it.”

“I look better naked.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when a shadow fell across his desk.

“We’ll be leaving in ten.” Blackwell dropped his hand on Aaron’s back. It was only for a second, but with enough pressure to make Aaron’s muscles seize and brace his palms instinctively on the desk. And long enough to make it clear hecouldtouch him. And no one would say a thing. He even stroked. “Try it on,” he said, finally removing his hand. “If you need another size, we have others. But I think I have you correct.”

Did Blackwell touch everyone like that? The casual hand-on-the-back thing? The guiding touches, the fingers on a shoulder never quite feeling professional. Or was ithim? Was he imagining it? Was this normal for those in charge? He had no frame of reference. That crappy shop job he’d worked during undergrad didn’t count. His boss barely spoke to him, let alone touched him. After that, there’d only been his inheritance… and Kenny.

Kenny, whose touch was deliberate, safe, earned.

Wanted.

Was that the difference?

He’d spent years walking around with a neon-litdon’t touch mesign pulsing off his skin, and people had obeyed. Everyone but Kenny. And now Kenny wassmoothing his sharp edges, letting him want it, teaching him to hold still andfeel, was he was becoming something else?

Not touch-me-and-die.

More… touch-me-and-I’ll-flinch and have a full-on trauma response.

Aaron sidestepped, shrugging off the contact with a smile that had all the warmth of a rusted scalpel. It didn’t touch his eyes.