Sleeping With Santa (12 page)

“Ice cream?” She perked up.

“Is that a bad idea?” He winced, recalling her affliction for sweets and perfect teeth.

Her smile brightened. “Ice cream is never a bad idea.”

“Okay. Ice cream it is,” he said, even though it was freezing outside.

After unfastening the slip, he stepped out of the dressing room while she changed.

She emerged a few minutes later wearing a coy smile.

He took the merchandise from her hands. “Let me buy it for you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He pulled out a wad of cash at the register. “See anything else you like?”

“Nick, you really don’t have to— Okay, fine,” she exhaled. “Since I know you’re wondering, it’s for a job interview tomorrow—well, three interviews. In Manhattan. I need to make a decent impression.”

“You look great in whatever you wear.”
And even better without—

“Thanks. But you’re not hiring me.”

“Which votive would you like?” The sales clerk indicated to the stubby little candles in colors that matched their fragrant names: Gingerbread Boyfriend, Lavender Fields Forever, French-Kiss Vanilla, and Forever and Evergreen. “It’s free.” The sign on the counter read:
COMPLIMENTARY GIFT WITH YOUR PURCHASE.

“No, thanks.” Lily waved them away.

“Go on, take the candle.” Nick sniffed the green one. It smelled just like a Christmas tree.

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t do candles.”

“What do you mean? Girls love candles. That’s why they’re giving them away.”

“Not me.”

“What about on birthday cakes? Don’t tell me you don’t do birthdays either?”

Lily frowned. “Birthday candles are for children who believe wishes come true.”

“But wishes can come true.” Nick was determined to prove it.

“You don’t have to burn it,” the saleswoman said. “Use it to scent your lingerie drawer. Or for decoration.”

“Oh, fine. I’ll take that.” Lily pointed to the one in Nick’s hand. “Thank you,” she said to the clerk. Then her eyes drifted dreamily at Nick. “Thank you, too.”

He carried the packages and offered to drive her to her car, which she accepted without a cross-examination.

“What’s that?” Lily indicated the big red bag between them on the bench seat.

Making room for her, he quickly stuffed it into the back with the gear he’d forgotten to remove. “That’s just the Santa suit.”

“Not
the
Santa suit?”

“Yep.”

“Can I see it?”

“On Christmas.” He threw the truck in Park next to her orange station wagon. “If you’re a good girl.”

“Oh, I’m good, all right.” She giggled and he caught a naughty gleam in her forgiving eyes.

“How about I follow you home—that is, if you still wanna to go out…” He escorted her to the car, nervous, like it was his first time asking a girl on a date.

“Sure.”

He opened the door, but she hesitated, with eyes big and bright like two glittery stars. The white vapor of their breath mingled in air. Thank God the tears were gone. He hated seeing her cry. And felt worse being the cause of it.

“Nick, I…” she started, but her quick pink tongue moistened her bottom lip, beckoning his mouth to come closer and he couldn’t resist the kiss.

Warm.

Deep.

Long.

A steamy slice of heaven in her lips lingered after they pulled themselves apart.

“Wow.” She swiped her mouth dry with the back of her hand.

“Get in the car before you freeze.”

He followed her home with his windows open so the icy air could clear his head. When they pulled into her driveway, he parked behind her, waiting with the engine running.

She ambled to the driver’s window. “Would you like to, um, come inside?”

“Uhh, sure!” Her invitation was the right step in a better direction. A million times better than last time he brought her home.

Nick followed Lily up three concrete steps and she hip-checked the front door, grumbling, “It sticks sometimes. Just needs a little shove.”

“Let me try.” He jiggled the key in the lock and leaned his weight against the warped wood until it finally opened.

She flicked a wall switch and a floor lamp in the corner set the small space aglow. Tiny and tidy as it may be, it was easy to figure out why she wanted to sell it. Bringing this time capsule of eclectic eras up to today’s standards would take a lot of money. Dark wood paneling covered the living room walls and worn ornamental rugs hid most of the dull linoleum floor. Like his place, it would be easier to tear down than fix up.

“Sorry it’s so cold in here. The heater is behaving badly.” She breezed through the living room to the kitchen on the other side of the half-wall.

Cold was an understatement. He pushed on the front door to make sure it wasn’t the source of the major draft. A quick glance at the windows and he spotted the culprit across the room; the kitchen window over the sink was opened an inch and arctic air rattled the curtain like a ghost.

“Do you want something?” She indicated to a selection of large gift baskets on the floor lined up along the kitchen wall. “They’re Christmas gifts from clients. Take whatever you want.”

He
wanted
Lily but knew that wasn’t what she meant.

Staring through the cellophane, he studied the innards of the array of baskets: cheese and crackers, pastas and sauces, smoked sausages, herbal teas, flavored coffees and creamers, candies, cookies, gourmet hot chocolates, baking items, and other treats. There was even a basket of assorted soup.

She flicked on the oven and pulled down the door. “It’ll warm up in a minute.”

“It could be a whole helluva lot warmer in here if you kept that window shut.”

“Yeah, I would if I could. That’s as far as I can get it. I usually stuff it with a dish towel to cut the breeze.”

“You do know that using the oven to heat your house is a fire hazard.”

“I only do it when it’s really cold. Just to take out the chill.”

If she did this with a firefighter around, he worried what she does while he’s gone. “I’ll check the chimney. Then you can use the fireplace.” And he could scratch the last name off his list.

“Don’t bother. I won’t use it anyway.”

“It’s safer than using your oven.” He reached over the sink and applied gentle pressure on the corners of the brittle wood, closing it all but a few millimeters. Nailing it shut might help, but the glass may shatter in the process.

She snapped the dial to the Off position. “Better?”

“Much.”

“Let me know if you go numb, I’ll get you a blanket.”

“I have snow gear in the car.”

“And don’t forget the Santa suit.”

“Definitely not. Can’t forget that,” Nick sniggered, dreading having to wear it in a few weeks.

On the topic of Christmas, her home wasn’t decorated like the rest of the neighborhood, outside or inside. Not a wreath. Or a bow. Or a piece of tinsel. Or a string of lights. Nothing. Except for the little spruce leaning in the dark corner of the living room.

“Nice tree.”

“It was free. One of Bob’s clients runs the lot.”

“You gotta water it otherwise it’ll dry out.” Another potential hazard once she put lights on it.

“I haven’t gotten around to it.” She turned up the antiquated thermostat in the hallway and the heat came on with a painful groan. “How’s your bungalow? Still coming along okay?”

“Not really. It looks like I might be a permanent resident at the firehouse until I can fix a bunch of issues. I won’t be able to do any major work until spring.”

“Hmm. Well…I’ve got a room for rent. It’s not much. I can show it to you if you’re interested.”

Toes curled inside his boots and his fingers tingled with excited energy. “Actually, yeah, why not?”

He followed her down the short hall to view the piece of real estate that—unbeknownst to her—he was in the process of buying. It didn’t take long to put two-and-two together, realizing it was
her
advertisement from the community bulletin board he washed with his jeans.

“I should have rented it a while ago. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. It’s a tiny bedroom. Used to be my parents’. I’ll move out the junk to make room for you if you want it.”

As long as the bed was big enough to stretch out in, he didn’t care about the piles of things, stacks of cardboard boxes, or the viva-la-seventies décor. “This’ll work just fine.”

“Really? You’re serious?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded, doing his best to forget about any ulterior motives. “Are meals included?”

“I don’t cook—but I can make sandwiches!”

“Well, I guess you’re in luck, because I
can
cook. I’ll have to teach you.”

“I didn’t even tell you how much the rent is.”

“Trust me, you won’t blow my budget.”

“I guess that means you’re gonna stay the night then? I’ll just take the stuff off the bed for you—”

“Leave it for now. I can stay on the couch.”

“I’ll give you the grand tour.” On the way to the kitchen, they stood in the hallway and she pointed to the four doors within arm’s reach. “Bathroom. My room. Linen closet. Cellar.”

“You’re sure you really wanna sell it?”

Lily curled up in a wooden chair at the little round kitchen table, smoothing her palms over the faded floral tablecloth and shrugged.

Nick sat across from her, anxious to know more.

“It doesn’t really matter. I can’t afford to keep it. If I could, I’d never consider selling it. But it’s all for the best, I guess. With the money, I can get a decent apartment far from here. And I’ll never have to run into Britney again.”

“Didn’t you hear—Britney’s spending the winter down south.”

“Hallelujah.” Lily clasped her hands to heaven. “What else did she say?”

Nick hesitated, like mentally preparing to rip off a bandage, before spitting out the rest. “Well, she talked about her brother. And mentioned something about her mother’s ring.”

“She told you I stole it, didn’t she?” Lily scowled and shot out of the chair. Filled the teakettle with tap water and slammed it on the stovetop. While it heated, she rummaged through the kitchen drawers, smacking each one closed with a vengeance, until she pulled out a silver key and handed it to Nick without explanation; no doubt the spare to the front door.

He slipped it into his back pocket.

“Nobody stole anything,” she ranted, chest heaving. “As far as I know, Mark’s mother gave it to him to sell, which is just what he did. I told Britney a dozen times, I never even saw the ring. Not unless it was ever on their mother’s hand. Their parents had been divorced since Mark was in elementary school. The ring obviously didn’t matter much to him or his mom. I don’t know why it matters so much to her. At least she has her parents. I don’t have anyone. I don’t have anything—my mom hocked all her jewelry to keep up with the mortgage payments before she over extended the credit cards she opened in
my
name. That’s why I’m in such a financial mess.”

When she poured steaming water into a chipped coffee mug with shaky hands, Nick got up and nudged her aside. “Let me do that.”

“That’s why I need to get outta this town,” she murmured. “And start over somewhere else where people don’t know my business...”

He followed Lily to the living room with two steaming cups of cocoa and sat beside her on the tattered burgundy loveseat. There was a terrible draft on this side of the house blowing on his ankles through thermal socks and insulated work boots.

“If you rearrange the room so the couch isn’t blocking the fireplace, it wouldn’t be so chilly against your back. The wind coming down the flue is as bad as the kitchen window.”

“I just wear a lot of layers.”

“Now that you have a roommate, you can’t let me freeze. We’ll have to do something as a temporary fix.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Relax. I’ll handle it.”

“I need the rent money for bills. I can’t invest in repairs.”

“Well, you’re looking at a pretty handy guy.” And in the spirit of being
handy
, he set his cup on the table, then rubbed the soft fabric covering her thigh.

She stared pensively into space. “I-I have to tell you something. Getting back to what we were talking about…on Thanksgiving.”

He halted her before she could start, not wanting to backtrack to him being a hard-ass that night. “No, let’s just
fuggetaboutit
.”

“I can’t. Please, let me just say it, and then if you don’t like it you can leave.”

“Okay, fine.”

“There’s another reason why Britney hates me. The
real
reason…You see, Mark and I-I didn’t know it, not until the doctors told me, but at the time of the accident…I, um, I was a few weeks pregnant. And I lost the baby.”

Wincing with her words, he felt her pain like a kidney punch. “God, Lily, I’m sorry.”

“We were always really careful. But one time the condom broke, and that’s all it took. The thing that still bothers me is, even if I hadn’t lost it, I don’t know if I would’ve wanted to have it on my own. His family would’ve wanted it—to have a living piece of Mark. I don’t think I would’ve had the heart to give it up. And I was in no position to raise a child—God, look at me now, I can hardly take care of myself. Could you imagine if I had a baby?”

Yes.
“And Britney blames you? That doesn’t make sense.”

Lily choked back a sob of fresh tears. “She thinks I…that I terminated it on purpose.”

So, this is what she’d been too afraid to tell him. Had he known, he never would have pushed her. “Aww, Lil.” He wrapped both arms around her, pulling her into his lap. In the dull light, he saw the agony in her eyes and lines of torment tugging her frown. “Please don’t cry.”

She covered her face with her hands like a child. “You must think I’m a terrible person.”

“No. Not at all.” He collected her slender wrists with one hand to keep her from hiding. “Your history doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

A fleeting smile flickered before she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

“Lily, look at me.” She needed to know the gravity of his emotions. “You believe me, dontcha?”

“Yes. I believe you, but…”

“But what?” He read the deliberation in her eyes. Her words came too slow for his brain’s warp-speed.