The Christmas Thief Read Online Free PDF Page A

the dim space. “I have no doubt about that!”
    “Then why the sudden confession?”
    He cocked his head in a shrug. “So you would believe me when I told you that you might have a problem with the roof. Have you noticed any wet spots on the ceiling?”
    She shrank away from him. “No.”
    “That’s good, but you’d better keep an eye on it—especially in the far corner of the living room.” He stooped to pick up the roll of plastic at his feet. “Keep this here, and if you see any leaks at all, call me. I’ll give you my number.”
    “I doubt I’ll need it,” she cut in.
    He shook his head. “Where’s your phone? I’ll put it in for you.”
    She let out a huff and pulled it from her back pocket. “Fine. But like I said, I won’t call you.”
    He handed her phone back. “I would feel better knowing that you have my number—just in case.”
    The rain moved from heavy to steady and back again. “Well, thank you.” I guess. “You went beyond the call of neighborly duty. My deck and I thank you.”
    “You’re welcome, Tash ... people do call you Tash sometimes, right?”
    “Never.”
    His face broke out into a smile. He winked and said, “You’re welcome, Tasha,” and dashed into the flood pouring from above.
    Inside again, Tasha secured the front door and rested her chilled, damp self against a fake wood wall. Wolfy sauntered over and pushed his cold snout into her hand. She slid down onto the carpet and gave her pet’s furry head a quick rub. “How come I suddenly feel like I have two pals watching over me, huh?”
    Wolfy’s eyebrows shifted and he emitted an uncomfortable groan while lowering himself onto his paws. With one arm resting on her dog’s back, Tasha stared across the room at the fog-covered picture window that took up so much of one wall. An unfamiliar tapping caused her to shoot a look upward.
    Oh no.
    She trotted across the living room and peered up at the unmistakable spot forming in the corner—right where Marc had warned her it might. She dragged over a bent-back chair from the dining room, used it as a step stool, and brushed her fingers across the brown-rimmed area.
    Moisture.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
    What’s Miss Efficient going to do about this now?
    Tasha envisioned Roger’s spurious smile taunting her, the same one she had often mistaken for genuine approval.
    Don’t get yourself unraveled, Tash. I’ll take the boys to lunch, giving you ample time to smooth it all out .
    How many times had he left her at the office to fix his mess while serving her backhanded compliments?
    That’s my girl—always taking the safe route. A little dull, but we love her for it. Don’t we, ladies?
    The women on staff at the insurance company could see their relationship for the sham that it was—Roger in it for show, to make his parents happy that he’d chosen someone respectable who could represent them well. They would have two children and a country club membership. She would keep their reputation safe, their life together organized, while Roger kept being Roger. Smart, unfairly handsome, and reckless.
    Tasha swallowed back the memory. She hopped off of the makeshift stool and spied the bulky roll of plastic sheeting that Marc had left behind. Her mind swam with possibilities. You should call Marc. Better yet, put a bucket under the spot and call a roofer in the morning. She slid another look at the roll of plastic. That’s Tasha ... a little dull ... always taking the safe route .. .
    Tasha set her jaw and exhaled. She moved outside, braving the storm, and climbed atop the deck railing, using the corner of her cabin to steady herself. She blinked profusely as the wind pushed the rain sideways making the search for damaged shingles fruitless. Covering the roof’s front corner with plastic might fend off more damage—but it might not. Years earlier her father and uncle carefully sealed off an area of their home’s roof right