To Catch a Fox: A Secret Santa story

By Jayce Carter

FROM BESTSELLING ROMANCE AUTHOR JAYCE CARTER

A Secret Santa story

She knows what she wants for Christmas, but this Fox might just be more than she can handle.

Jarrod has lived his life in the shadows, isolated from others because attachments are too dangerous. His career doing shady jobs for dangerous people has left him with too many enemies and too much blood on his hands to hope for normal things like love. Despite his best efforts, though, one sweet, giving woman has managed to make him crave a future he knows isn' t possible for a man like him.

Sasha has devoted her life to helping people, so why can' t she control her feelings for the handsome, mysterious and dangerous Jarrod? When enemies searching for Jarrod abduct her, she realizes the man she loves might have a far darker past than she' d ever suspected.

Jarrod must protect Sasha while he tracks down the people after him, forcing him to come face-to-face with the sins of their shared past and his fears that she could never love the real him. When the truth finally comes out, when all their secrets are revealed, can they trust one another, or will their first Christmas together also be their last?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
• Release date: Dec 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781839436628

Jayce Carter

Jayce Carter lives in Southern California with her husband and two spawns. She originally wanted to take over the world but realized that would require wearing pants. This led her to choosing writing, a completely pants-free occupation. She has a fear of heights yet rock climbs for fun and enjoys making up excuses for not going out and socializing.

Book preview

Totally Bound Publishing books by Jayce Carter

The Omega’s Alphas

Owned by the Alphas

Shared by the Alphas

Saved by the Alphas

Protected by Her Alphas

Caught by Her Alphas

Tamed by the Alphas

Claimed by the Alphas

Exposed by Her Alphas

Trained by the Alphas

Reclaimed by Her Alphas

Ready or Not

Fake It ‘til You Make It

Opposites Attract

Third Time Lucky

Enemies Closer

Grave Concerns

Grave Robbing and Other Hobbies

Hell Raising and Other Pastimes

Saving the World and Other Bad Ideas

Dark Sanctuary

Bound by Fear

Trapped by Doubt

Buried by Despair

Nemesis

The Corpse Princess

The Resurrected Queen

Larkwood Academy

Silenced

Whispers

Screaming

Collections

Sun, Sea and Sinful Delights

Secret Santa

TO CATCH A FOX

JAYCE CARTER

To Catch a Fox

ISBN # 978-1-83943-662-8

©Copyright Jayce Carter 2022

Cover Art by Kelly Martin ©Copyright Deccember 2022

Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

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The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2022 by Totally Bound Publishing, United Kingdom.

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A Secret Santa story

She knows what she wants for Christmas, but this Fox might just be more than she can handle.

Jarrod has lived his life in the shadows, isolated from others because attachments are too dangerous. His career doing shady jobs for dangerous people has left him with too many enemies and too much blood on his hands to hope for normal things like love. Despite his best efforts, though, one sweet, giving woman has managed to make him crave a future he knows isn’t possible for a man like him.

Sasha has devoted her life to helping people, so why can’t she control her feelings for the handsome, mysterious and dangerous Jarrod? When enemies searching for Jarrod abduct her, she realizes the man she loves might have a far darker past than she’d ever suspected.

Jarrod must protect Sasha while he tracks down the people after him, forcing him to come face-to-face with the sins of their shared past and his fears that she could never love the real him. When the truth finally comes out, when all their secrets are revealed, can they trust one another, or will their first Christmas together also be their last?

Dedication

To all those fictional boys who are nothing but a giant box of red flags and a nice dick—oh, how I love you.

Chapter One

Jarrod

People liked to say that nothing hurt more than loss. Bullshit. Losing things happened—it was part of life. When people lost something, they could move on and start over.

The hardest thing was wanting something I couldn’t have, something I had to see but knew I’d never get.

Which meant the blonde woman walking through the parking lot toward the building I waited in made for the most painful thing in my whole damned life.

Sasha.

The fact that just her name could make my heart speed made me want to curse myself. At forty-seven, I was hardly a kid, so why did she hit me this hard? How could she make a hardened killer feel like an eight-year-old boy with his first crush?

At least I didn’t try to pull her pigtails or anything quite that stupid.

Though, was what I was doing any better, really?

Sure, I had a soreness in my shoulder from the wound, especially if I overdid it.

And I often overdid it.

Still, the month since I’d taken a bullet to protect my daughter had given me plenty of time to get back to myself. I’d lucked out that the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital. Blood loss had been the biggest issue, but a transfusion at the hospital had fixed that.

I couldn’t move quite as fast as I could before, the muscles still knitting back together as I worked at not allowing anything to atrophy. I’d gotten injured enough over the years to know myself, to know how far I could push my body as it recovered. Though, I did miss being younger, back when I healed so much faster.

A soft knock drew my attention to the door. The way my chest tightened made me sigh. Would I never stop reacting this way? It had been ten years since I’d first met Sasha, and she still did this to me.

Come in, I called.

The door opened, and Sasha stepped inside. She wore clothing that fit her style—a pair of gray slacks and a white button-up shirt tucked in. A long silver necklace hung, the pendant hidden beneath her shirt. Her curly blonde hair was pulled into a bun. Her makeup was subtle, as usual, with only a light sparkle on her lids and some mascara. It was one of the things that drew me to her, how simply she dressed, how natural she appeared, how honest she was.

Which was strange. The other love of my life—

I cut that thought off before it got far.

When she caught sight of me, a timid smile broke out over her pink lips. She was the only person in the world who smiled when she saw me. Maybe that was part of my obsession, some selfish piece of me that enjoyed our interactions, that liked how she didn’t fear me.

She had no idea who or what I really was, which was the only reason she could relax like this around me. If she knew…

If she knew, she’d never willingly stand in the same room as me again.

You look good, she said as she shut the door behind her.

I heal fast. Call it one of my few redeeming qualities.

I don’t know if I’d say few, she answered before setting her crossbody bag on the table. She glanced around the room, then furrowed her eyebrows. What is this place?

It’s a doctor’s office. The doctor is on vacation this week, which left it empty. I thought this was a good place for the final check-up, in case you needed anything.

Do they know we’re here? She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, as if the idea of breaking and entering disturbed her.

Of course they do. I paid the office manager for the use of it.

She let out a soft, relieved breath.

It reminded me just how innocent she was, how different. The women in my life tended toward vicious. They were tough, terrifying and more than willing to backstab anyone they needed to.

Sasha was, instead, a breath of fresh air in my stale world. She was kind, honest and caring. She epitomized everything I wasn’t.

Are you okay?

Her question made me stand up straight, realizing I’d stared at her without intending to long enough that I’d made her uncomfortable. I scolded myself for my rare lapse of focus. Sorry, I offered to defuse the tension, then reached for the folder I’d left on the exam table and handed it to her. Here are the X-rays, the report from the radiologist and the blood tests. They were all done four days ago, so it should give you everything you need.

Sasha stared at me as if weighing my words for truth. After a moment, she took the file. I doubted she believed me fully, but rather realized I wouldn’t answer even if she asked more.

She flipped through the pages, skimming her simply painted nails over the words. Your bloodwork looks good. Your vitamin B levels are low, and your magnesium is borderline. I’d suggest supplementing those. In six months, have another test run to make sure the levels are where they should be.

I nodded and leaned against the exam table. I ate fairly well—taking care of my body allowed me to stay sharp—but I didn’t doubt there were things I could do better.

She moved from the blood test to the X-rays. Her competency impressed as always. Beauty didn’t get people far with me, but being talented? That got me. She only glanced at the actual images before switching to the report. Everything looks good here. Your healing is on track. Honestly, it is amazing that you’ve come this far so fast. I guess it shows you take good care of yourself. She lifted her gaze from the files to me, a heat in her blue eyes that made me swallow.

I knew exactly how this would go if I allowed it. All I had to do was cross that distance, was to pull her against me, and she’d give in.

She’d do more than give in—she’d respond in kind. She’d kiss me back, let me touch her all I wanted. I could shake this emptiness inside me, perhaps forget about it for a short while.

But…that wasn’t fair to her. I couldn’t expose her to me, to the ugliness of my life, my past, all for a few hours of selfish pleasure.

So instead, I answered with a flat tone to drown the desire between us. I guess I have good genes.

She nodded, and I got the sense she knew I’d rejected her. After ten years, I would have thought she’d gotten used to it. Still, each time it happened, each time I put up a large do not cross sign, her face fell. She never pressed, never tried to seduce or manipulate me into agreeing, but that didn’t hide her disappointment.

After putting the papers back together and closing the folder, she turned fully toward me. Okay, shirt off. Let me examine you, and that will be it. If you start having problems or find your range of motion isn’t what it should be, consider getting some physical therapy.

I moved my fingers to the buttons of my shirt and undid them efficiently. When I managed them all, I undid the buttons at the cuffs, then slid the shirt off. I hung it over the back of one of the chairs.

When I turned back to Sasha, I caught that same look in her eyes from before. She’d locked her gaze on my chest, tracing along the bare skin as if she could feel it if she just stared hard enough.

And for my part, I sternly told my body to behave, to not react. If I could stay perfectly still on a roof in the rain for six hours waiting to spot a target through my scope, I sure as hell could convince my cock to ignore this whole situation.

As you can see, I’m healed, I said to break her out of her fantasy.

She blinked quickly and her cheeks flushed a deep red. Sorry, she said, reminding me of when I’d apologized for damn near the same thing. As fast as she said it, however, she shifted into her work mode. She came closer, leaning in to study the mark on my chest which had already almost fully healed. The scar won’t go away, she said. It will fade, but that’s it.

It’s not my first scar, and I doubt it’ll be my last.

She pressed her lips together before she peered at the old scars that covered me.

How did you get so many?

It doesn’t matter, I told her.

She hesitated, then reached for one of the deeper marks. It sat just below my ribcage—a thick scar from where a lucky asshole had driven a hunting blade into me.

Talk about embarrassing… I’d faced off against some of the worst people, but some biker in a bar had gotten the jump on me because he’d been high and thought I’d flirted with his wife.

His wife who had been only a coatrack near the door. Drugs are a hell of a ride.

The stroke of her fingers against my skin made me want to lean in, to let her touch all she wanted.

Instead, I wrapped my hand around her wrist to stop her, then waited until she lifted her blue eyes to mine.

And when she did?

I swore to myself that I’d never tell her the truth about myself, because if I did?

She’d never look at me like this again, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough for that.

Sasha

Jarrod’s large hand wrapped around my wrist made it hard to breathe.

Despite having treated his wounds over the years, I never touched him outside of that. My cheeks burned at the fact I was touching him like this now, that I’d done something so unprofessional.

Worse, he’d stopped me.

Not that I blamed him for stopping me. It wasn’t as if I wanted him uncomfortable, as if I wanted to push him into something. Jarrod was mysterious, quiet, dangerous, but always treated me with unfailing care.

He was also one-hundred percent not attracted to me.

The truth depressed me, but I’d forced myself to accept it. The sexual tension was all from one side—mine.

Who could blame me, though? Jarrod was unfairly handsome. He had eyes so light blue that they appeared silver. His hair was dark, which matched well with his tan skin. He had facial hair, though it was always kept short and neat. All of it made him look like some bad boy who I shouldn’t ever look twice at, yet I couldn’t deny having been smitten since our first meeting.

I gulped, then tried to put us back on track. The scars do matter. They could have killed you.

He tilted his head, his eyes pulling me in as they always did. They didn’t kill me, though. The past doesn’t matter, not really. As long as I survive it, what use does thinking about it have? Why treat remembering pain like some badge of honor? His voice dropped, and the next words came out so softly, I was sure I wasn’t meant to hear them. As if I had any honor.

I dragged my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to keep myself together. Why was it that I could save lives, that I could shut down everything else and do what needed to be done when it came to medicine, but the moment Jarrod looked at me, I became some air-headed bimbo who couldn’t string together a sentence?

It was downright embarrassing, especially at my age. I was creeping up on forty, an adult woman who had had plenty of relationships, so why did he made me feel like this was all new again?

Because you can’t have him.

They matter to me, I whispered.

Why?

Because you matter to me. Admitting that