Blue Christmas

Blue Christmas

A “
Big Girls Don’t Cry”

Christmas Short Story

By

Taylor Lee

Praise for
Blue Christmas
…

A Great 17,000 word Christmas short story – part of the Bestselling Sizzling Romantic Suspense
“Big Girls Don’t Cry”
series
.

“Gorgeous Army Captain Tiffany Anderson kicks butt with the best of them! And there isn’t a guy among the agents who is hotter than golden-boy Col. Brady Schaefer. Burned out on romance and facing yet another Christmas in a foreign country the last thing either one of them is looking for is a relationship, but discover even
Blue Christmas
es can be
Red HOT
!”

~J. John

“Two top undercover agents topple an international illegal arms dealer. And much to the surprise of the two dedicated “go it alone” sexy agents, if you throw in Snow Angels, Cookie dough (and especially frosting) plus a big dose of Elvis, a
Blue Christmas
in Korea makes for one
hot
unforgettable story!”

~Action Junkie

“Thrilled to see a story devoted to Brady and Tiffany. I loved them in
Nights in White Satin
and this is truly their story. A Christmas story that I will read and re-read the whole year through.”

~STM Reviews

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Afterword

Other Works by Taylor Lee

About the Author

Contact Information

Copyright Information

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

It was a good thing she wasn’t thirsty and had already had her limit of Johnny Walker Gold. It was a cinch she wouldn’t be served again anytime soon. Tiffany asked again why she did this to herself. Was she that much of a glutton for punishment? Nothing like coming to the rockingest bar in all of Itaewon to rub it in what a loser she was. Right, girl, surround yourself with hot-looking guys all lusting after the twenty year old barmaids who were tripping over each other to serve the American soldiers. Make that the male American soldiers, as the bargirls did not have time for customers without the required equipment—which as a woman she didn’t have and never would. Add to that the insult of this horrible music. She never thought she’d be wishing for them to go back to Lady Gaga or Nine Inch Nails, but good God, Barry Manilow? And the Beach Boys ??? singing Christmas music in a karaoke bar in the middle of Seoul? Yep. That’s how bad her life had become. Christmas in Korea! Last year it was Christmas in Bangkok and the year before Afghanistan. That had been a real kick. At least she hadn’t been undercover, so she could eat turkey and stuffing and drink beer with the rest of the ‘guys.’

Sitting at her table in the back corner of the humungous bar she decided that when spending yet another holiday in a foreign country, without so much as a guy to keep her warm, one shouldn’t limit the amount of alcohol one consumes. Tiffany raised her hand to start the process of getting attention from one of the bargirls. She knew from experience that it would take a minimum of twenty minutes from the time she finally got one of the astonishingly beautiful girls to come to her table to actually get her drink. One night—when granted she had definitely passed her consumption limit of alcohol—she’d stuck out her foot and tripped one of the girls who’d walked by her three times without stopping. The surprised server sprawled to the floor, dropping her tray of drinks. At the bargirl’s angry shriek, Tiffany merely arched an eyebrow, daring the wench to ignore her again. It was a tad dramatic, but hey, she got her drink.

At least she didn’t have to be concerned about being hit on. It was a given that all you had to be was an American woman with boobs and an ass and the Korean men swarmed you. But she had enough of that in her undercover work. Tonight she wanted to be who she really was. Captain Tiffany Anderson, hard-assed American soldier decked out in oversized camouflage, work boots, and a regulation cap smashed on top of a mass of red hair that she kept contained in scraggly braids. Fifteen hours earlier when she’d started her day, she’d actually smelled good, and she was wearing her contacts lenses. Not so now. Her best deterrent to unwanted advances were her Coke bottle glasses in heavy black frames. Yeah, she could have gotten designer frames at the base commissary. But there was something about the regulation Army specs that triggered her quirky sense of humor. Plus the utility of them couldn’t be overlooked. She preferred the men’s version because most of the time she had a safety strap connected to them which made them even less attractive… but at least they didn’t fall off when she sparred. She’d learned early on that if she worked at it, her bedraggled appearance and ferocious frown could keep even the most desperate Korean men at bay. So far tonight she hadn’t had to refuse a single overture. She snorted. She must really look bad. Or looked like who she was.

When she wasn’t undercover, she was a CQC, Close Quarters Combat master instructor, teaching new recruits how to make the bad guys wish they’d never tangled with an American soldier. Her years of mixed martial arts training and a roomful of medals in every competition from Strikeforce to Elite XC testified to her skills. But tonight, neither her successes nor the near completion of an important undercover assignment were enough to raise her sub-basement spirits.

She grimaced. Admit it. It was this damn holiday season that had her so depressed. One more Christmas away from her Army Ranger father and his latest wife, didn’t help. Neither did her empty apartment. Since she’d thrown out her former boyfriend, Willie the worm—as she had taken to calling him—her lovely apartment on the outskirts of Yongsan Garrison Military post that had once been her refuge between assignments, was now distinctly less welcoming. Nothing like discovering Willie with his ‘willie’ ensconced in a bevy of Asian women—the oldest of whom couldn’t have been twenty. In their bed, no less. And, she scowled as yet another barmaid ignored her upraised hand and passed her by, she couldn’t get anyone to serve her a goddamn drink!

The barmaid who’d skated by without so much as a ‘I’ll get to you in a minute ugly lady,’ was hell-bent on joining a cadre of girls fighting for the attention of the tall guy at the next table. Tiffany craned her neck to see who or what had inspired the chorus of high pitched, sing song excitement from the women. From the back the dude was impressive. Although not obviously military, at six-plus feet tall, he had a fighter’s stature. He was dressed in blue jeans and a tight black t-shirt that hugged broad shoulders and revealed an impressive set of biceps. He’d tied his shoulder length sun-streaked hair with a leather cord at his nape. The multi-thousand dollar watch on his thick wrist and solid gold chains around his corded neck signaled he was likely one of the many European playboys who came to Asia attracted by the abundance of stunning diminutive women. The dark haired Adonis rose to his feet showing off a first class ass then turned to give her a frontal view of a truly righteous body that to her expert eye screamed MMA. As if his body weren’t guy-candy enough, his scrubby beard shadow, high cheekbones and sparkling sea green eyes shot an appreciative zing through her desire starved body. His engaging laugh revealing bright white teeth and full sensuous lips were a package that made the excited group of giggling girls crowding him understandable.

Acknowledging that she may as well go home and raid her own liquor cabinet as it would be months if not years until she got served here, Tiffany caught a full faced glimpse of the rock star. Swallowing a shocked gasp of recognition, she sunk back in her chair stunned. Dear God, it couldn’t be—but it was. Surrounded by eager women was Brady Schaefer, Col. Brady Schaefer, who had served with her on a mission three years ago. A flash of pure pain kept her anchored in her chair, hoping that she was as invisible to him as she was to the bargirls. It wasn’t that Brady wasn’t a great guy. His outrageous over the top humor had kept her laughing in some very challenging situations.

No, his hearty chuckle brought back a mission that she’d tried hard to forget. But how do you forget the one guy she might actually have fallen in love with? If only he hadn’t been brutally murdered before they had a chance to explore whether their budding lust had long lasting potential. Anthony Beloi was Brady’s partner. Along with Commander Jake Gardner and Clint Martinson, they’d formed a five person undercover team that busted a sex slave auction operation here in Korea. Anthony had been the soft-spoken one, the gentle spirit in the fierce warrior’s body. The other three men had been delighted when she and Anthony hooked up. She remembered Brady muttering in surprised pleasure as she and Anthony headed off for an unforgettable weekend, that it was “good to see that sometimes the nice guy does finish first.”

After Anthony’s murder, she had exchanged e-mails and occasional phone calls with the other members of the team. But over time their overtures dwindled and ultimately came to a halt. It was obvious to her that their memories were as painful as hers. Brady had sent the most frequent messages. That was the kind of guy he was. Garrulous, loved by everyone, men and especially women, he’d sensed that she and Anthony could have had a future and wanted her to know he understood that she wasn’t just some weekend piece of ass. But Tiffany decided that in her world of high intensity missions, where she had as good a chance to die as to live, that she had to put her would-be lover in the past and do her best to live however much of her life was left to her.

Smarting from the flood of painful memories at the sight of Brady, she pulled her cap down over her eyes and sunk deeper in her chair. Given her current maudlin state, churning up memories of Anthony was counterproductive. Especially with the rock star himself, Brady Schaeffer. Besides, she had some pride. She didn’t want him to see her like this. He was so damned spectacular and she was so plain.

She needn’t have worried. Even for Brady, he was dealing with what looked like a virtual harem of young women. She watched him carelessly throw a couple hundred dollar bills on the table then head to the exit with no fewer than four lovely young women clinging to him. The downcast expressions of the girls who still had to work underscored her former team mate’s appeal.

Chapter 2

Tiffany lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, as usual unable to sleep. Tomorrow was a big day. Her undercover mission was reaching a critical point. They were coming close to nabbing the primary player in an illegal weapons operation. He was an international criminal who was making millions selling American and Russian weapons to North Korea. It had taken two days working at Shin Lee’s casino to get noticed and a week to work her way into Shin’s inner circle. If all went as planned, in the next couple of days they would be able to trap him making an illegal deal. First thing in the morning she was meeting with Col. Marion, the overly cautious commander who was heading up the mission. He’d told her he was bringing in a ringer to engineer the final take down of their mark. At first, she’d fought the inclusion of another player. It annoyed the hell out of her that these chauvinistic soldiers always felt that even women with her track record needed some hotshot to swoop in and consummate the deal. But Tiffany had to admit, Shin Lee’s interest in her was getting a little too personal. She’d made as many excuses as she could to keep her distance. But it was only a matter of time before he’d insist on sex and god knows what else. His penchant for kinky sex was the stuff of legends.