Santa Wore Leathers

by Vonnie Davis

  She untied the rope securing her trunk lid over the long box and contemplated the best way to remove the carton and get it inside to her living room. How difficult could it be? She wrapped an arm around the box and pulled, hoping to hug it to her side.

  It barely budged. Crap!

  Shoving the sleeves of her sweatshirt to her elbows, she put every ounce of strength into the job. She tugged and pulled enough of the carton out of the trunk to allow gravity to upend it onto the street. Then she straightened, shifted her shoulders and used her sleeve to swipe the perspiration from her forehead.

  She bent at the knees, put her shoulder to it and lifted the heavy item on an exhale and a loud grunt. Becca staggered under the weight across her shoulder. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The unmanageable carton wove her back and forth. For a few seconds, all she could do was stagger.

  She made it up the step of the curb to the sidewalk, nearly dropping to her knees with the effort. Thigh muscles quivering with the strain of the weight, she gritted her teeth. “Come on, Becca, you can do this.”

  Thank goodness the walkway was only twelve feet long. She tried not to think of the three steps to her porch. Maybe she could drag or push the box up the steps—if she reached them under all this weight.

  A loud rumble roared down the street and her stomach clenched at the familiar sound. Wolf’s Harley eased to the curb.

  “Becca! Don’t. I’ll carry that in for you.”

  She pivoted to tell him she didn’t need or want his help. The sudden movement threw her load off balance. Arms clasped around the box, she fell backwards and her spine slammed on the hard ground. Air whooshed from her lungs on impact. A loud pop sounded as the box thudded across her face. Pain exploded in her nose and head.

  “Becca! My God.” A set of thick knees pushed into her side. “Here, let me get this off you.” Wolf shoved the box away as if it were no heavier than a bag of tinsel. “Give me a chance to get this helmet off.” Leather rustled and squeaked.

  Wet warmth flowed over her lips.

  “Oh, sweetheart, it looks like your nose is broken.” Strong fingers moved from the bridge of her nose to its tip. The pain made her eyes cross. “Hold on. Let me get my first-aid kit.”

  His heat disappeared and running footfalls sounded on his porch. Slowly the spinning stopped, and she blinked to bring the world back into focus. Was her face smashed? She gingerly fingered her forehead, nose and cheeks and grimaced when she pulled back a blood-covered hand.

  Einstein was barking like crazy from inside her townhouse. Bless his canine heart; he knew she needed him.

  Wolf settled on his knees beside her again. “Some people bleed more than others when their noses break. Don’t be alarmed.” His voice was calm and authoritative as he snapped on latex gloves. Cool alcohol wipes were gently pressed across her face.

  “Ith my noth broken?” My God, was that her voice? Why was she speaking with a lisp?

  He shined a light in her eyes. “Good retina response.” Chocolate eyes lowered to within inches of hers, minty breath swept across her face and a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “And, yes, sweetheart, your noth is broken. I’ll do my best to set it so it’s still pretty and straight.”

  “Thet it? No!”

  Einstein’s barking and whining increased. No doubt he sensed her anxiety.

  Wolf gave a nonchalant shrug. “Set might be an extreme word. I’m just going to make sure it’s straight.”

  “Are you two at it again?” Mrs. Minelli’s orthopedic shoes came into view. “Oh no! She’s bleeding! Shall I call an ambulance? I can press the button on my senior alert necklace.” She held out a medical medallion strung on a silver chain around her neck. Today, her sweatshirt bore a Christmas-tree design with lights that somehow twinkled on and off.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Minelli, but I’ve got it covered. I’ll stop the bleeding and carry her inside.”

  “What happened?” The elderly woman tapped his side with her cane. “Did you belt her because she wouldn’t get frisky with you?”

  Wolf’s hands stilled and he exhaled an audible sigh-fluttering the hair at Becca’s temple. His tension was palpable. Under his breath, he muttered, “God, just give me some frickin’ patience here.” Then he aimed his thousand-watt smile at the older lady and told her what had happened.

  “Well, okay then. I was just going to hitch a ride with Mrs. Bernstein to water aerobics. We broads need to keep our girlish figures. Becca, darlin’, I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.” Her words trailed after the tottering old woman, her cane tapping as she meandered down the sidewalk.

  Wolf’s fingertips firmly pressed into her nose and more stars exploded behind her eyes.

  “Don’t touch my noth!” She batted away his hands.

  “Do you want to be called ‘witch’s beak’ for the rest of your life?”

  “Witheth beak? Ith it that bad?” What would her coworkers at the paper think? Still, did this yay-hoo know what he was doing? “If my noth needth to be thet, I want a profethenal to thet it.”

  He tore open a paper packet and removed two gauze cylinders. “I had advanced corpsman training in the Navy before I was recommended for the SEALs. Believe me, I’ve handled worse than a broken nose.”

  Wolf shoved the gauze up her nostrils.

  More fireworks exploded in her head.

  “Ow! You big thithead. You hurt me on purpoth.” Her one hand tightened in a fist. If he hurt her again, she was going to belt him.

  Those brown eyes of his shone with humor. “Thithead? We hardly know each other well enough for such intimacies.” He smiled and tilted his head. “Although, I am getting pretty familiar with your taste in underwear. Einstein left a purple thong beside my ladder the day I fell off and another leopard-print set at my back door yesterday.”

  “Oh, no,” she groaned. She’d never had trouble with her dog running off until this man moved in next door. She could see why a woman might chase after Wolf—an enticing blend of machismo, good looks and an unexpected measure of gentleness—but why was her dog so damned attracted to him? And just why was her dog so suddenly set on stealing her underwear?

  “What did you do with my thongth? You never brought them back.”

  “Tied them to the handle grips of my Harley.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

  “You what!” She would kill him.

  His head leaned back as deep laughter erupted. “Don’t get riled, sweetheart.” His eyes bore humor and something akin to affection.

  That damned box must have broken my mind.

  “Thop calling me ‘thweatheart.’”

  “Can’t.” His fingers were more gentle on her face now. “It’s part of my plan. Maybe if I keep calling you sweetheart, you’ll start getting sweet on me.”

  “Cold day in hell, buthter.”

  “Do you have pain anywhere?”

  “I think my back might be broken. I heard thomething pop when I fell.”

  Wolf’s hands stilled. “Are you in pain, baby?” His dark eyebrows furrowed. “Move your fingers for me. Good. That’s good.” He shifted to her feet and wrapped his hands around her sneakers. “Push your toes into my hands. Excellent. Now your heels. Good. Good.” His fingers slowly worked their way up her legs, probing, exploring.

  “Thop feeling my legth.”

  “I’m checking for broken bones.”

  His hands squeezed her thighs, and she shot him a dirty look. “You’re copping a feel, you thexth fiend.”

  His arrogant gaze swept to hers, warming her from the inside out. “Are you enjoying my touching you?”

  “Thertainly not.” Well, maybe just a teeny-tiny bit.

  “Then I’m not copping a feel. When I do, you’ll enjoy it. Believe me.” His hands swept over her ribs in an expert manner.

  “You pompouth jerk. You are tho full of yourthelf.”

  “And you’re s
o cute when you’re miffed about something. Which I’ve gotta admit is most of the time.” Evidently satisfied she had no broken bones, he rolled her slightly and peered under her back. “I found the source of the popping.”

  “Oh?”

  He heaved a sigh. “Yeah, you killed one of my wolves.”

  To Becca’s surprise, Wolf scooped her into his arms and carried her up the steps to her door, as if she weighed no more than a hummingbird. “I’ll get you inside and put some ice on your face. You know you’re going to have two big shiners from the box’s impact.”

  “Thiners? You mean black eyeth?” No, please, no! She had two interviews for the newspaper tomorrow.

  He stopped at her door and peered down at her. Those brown eyes of his danced with humor. “Yes, black eyeth.” He shifted, raising his knee to help balance her as he reached to open her door. Einstein danced and whined and sniffed her to make sure she was okay.

  Her pride stung from his remark. “I don’t enjoy being made fun of.”

  His boots clomped on the wooden floor of her hallway. “I’m not making fun, sweetheart. What I’m trying to do is lighten your mood a little. You always take everything so seriously. Just for once, I’d like to see you smile.”

  He settled her on the sofa, tugged her grandma’s afghan off the back of the sofa and covered her. Even on a mild day like today, the soft apricot-and-yellow knitted “comfort blankie,” as grandma called it, brought its own consolation.

  “Be right back. I’m going for ice packs, aspirin and my toolbox. You’re not up to putting the bookshelves together this afternoon.”

  “You’re right. I’m not. Thankth for your help.” She sighed, thinking of how she’d never have gotten out from under that heavy box. “And for taking care of me too.”

  He turned and crouched next to the sofa. His warm hand covered one of hers. Einstein licked them both, and Wolf laughed deeply, the husky rumble touching the loneliness inside her. “Sweetheart, I don’t mind taking care of you and my thong buddy here. I do think our movie date for tonight will have to be postponed. Bright theater lights wouldn’t be good for your headache. We’ll do it another time, okay?”

  “Okay. Today ithn’t turning out like I planned. I wath going to make Chrithmath cookieth later for the neighborth.”

  He trailed a fingertip down her cheek. “Were you going to make some for me too?”Oh, those brown eyes of his and the lone dimple that winked when he smiled. She nodded, and the movement of her head made her stomach lurch. “I thuppothe a cookie or two.” This attraction was so not good. Hadn’t she learned any lessons from her marriage? Men equaled pain.

  He leaned over her and feathered his warm lips across her forehead. “Oh, sweetheart, my appetites go way beyond a couple cookies.”

  Her insides did a feminine freefall. I just bet they do.

  “Stay here.” He stood. “I’ll get you those aspirins and something frozen for your face.” Einstein followed Wolf out of the room.

  “Wolf?”

  His dark head peeked around the arched doorway. “Yeah?”

  “I want my thongth back. No woman wanth her underwear turned into a bikerth trophy, ethpethally a Harley rider.”

  Wolf stared at her for a beat, and his eyes narrowed. “Bite me.” He stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

  God he was cute when she pushed his buttons. For the first time since Tommy Ray walked out on her, she laughed until her sides hurt.

  Chapter 7

  Ten minutes later, Becca lay with a sack of frozen peas over her face, peeking out from under the Green Giant on the bag to watch the muscular giant on her living room floor, methodically positioning every board and hardware item across the carpet.

  Einstein alternately pranced from her to Wolf, spending more time wagging at their guest than snuggling with her.

  Becca could appreciate the dog’s interest. She had a fair share of it herself… like the way Wolf’s jeans, buttery soft with age, hugged his thighs and butt. In fact, her hands itched to cup his mighty fine behind. She pinched her eyes shut and then winced. Oh, girl, don’t even go there.

  Wolf’s head rose as if he’d noticed her facial movement beneath the bag of peas. “Those Tylenol taking care of the pain?”

  “Uh-huh.” They weren’t taking care of the desire, though. She hadn’t wanted a man this much in well over a year. Why now? Why him, of all people?

  “What do you like on your pizza?”

  “What?” She lifted the bag of peas. He held his cell in one large hand, his gaze focused on her. Was he inviting himself for dinner? The man was putting together her shelves. The least she could do was feed him. “I could cook.”

  “After what just happened to you out there? Nonsense. You need to rest.” One dark eyebrow rose. “Toppings?”

  A shudder of awareness sashayed through her system when her eyes met his. Oh my, those piercing eyes of his and the way they studied her. It was almost as if he could see right into her soul.

  “Ah…muthroom and ethtra cheeth.”

  Wolf dialed and joked with the person on the other end of the line. “You want my order or not, you degenerate slime ball?” His laughter, loud and booming, just like him, ricocheted off the walls. “Give me an extra-large pizza. Heap everything on one half and mushrooms and extra cheese on the other.” He forked the fingers of one hand through his shoulder-length hair. “Yeah, I’m sharing it.” His gaze swept to hers and a slow, badass smile made her insides flutter. “That’s for me to know, buddy. It’s someone I’ve been trying to charm for a few days.”

  She jerked the bag of peas off her face, her eyes narrowed at his implication.

  He winced as he studied her expression. “How’s it goin’ with her? Ah…not so good.” He picked lint off his black Harley T-shirt in a self-conscious gesture. After he gave the person on the other end her address, he slipped his cell into his pocket.

  She rose on her elbows, her head pounding with the effort. “Who…who were you juth talking to?”

  Suddenly he was very busy. A broad shoulder lifted. “Ah, my cousin, Vinny.”

  “Great, my life ith juth like a bad movie.”

  “Hey, that was a great flick. Ever see it? My sisters loved it.”

  She pressed the peas back over her face and reclined against the pillows. “No.”

  “I’ll bring it over some night, and we can watch it together.”

  “No.” She was not letting this man into her life any more than she had already.

  Evidently he chose to ignore her reply. “I see you haven’t decorated for Christmas yet.”

  “I have too. Thee my pointhetta on the coffee table?” She pointed to the angels and carnations on her desk. “Thank you for thoth. You thurprithed me.”

  He gave her a slow, sexy-as-hell smile and then winked. Damn, if all her female parts didn’t wink right back.

  What was she talking about? Oh yeah, decorations. “Thee my tree in the corner?”

  He snorted. “That’s not a tree. It’s a plastic branch with tiny look-a-like ornaments clinging to it for dear life.”

  “Ith a tree. I thuppoth you’ve got a giant one in your houth, juth dripping with ornamenth.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “I hate arrogant men.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” He started assembling the shelves. “How long have you been divorced?”

  “A while. Tommy Ray moved out Chrithmath Eve.”

  “Christmas Eve?” Muscles rippled over Wolf’s back as he screwed some pieces together. “What an asshole, ruining your holiday like that.”

  An old pain paid her heart a visit. This time, like a weakened tropical storm, it barely touched down. A slow smile spread. Was she finally getting over her divorce? Maybe Christmas wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  “How about you? Any etheth?”

  He glanced over his shoulder, his forehead furrowed. “Etheth? Oh, exes.” He smiled and nodded. “No. I was engaged while I was in the SEALs. It was too hard on he
r, never knowing where I was or what I was doing. At the drop of a hat or the chime of a text, I’d be gone and out of touch for months.” He shrugged and turned back to the partially assembled shelves. “She married an accountant and has two rugrats now.”

  Had his fiancée hurt him the way Tommy Ray had her? Did he grieve her loss the way she did the man she’d once pledged herself to, supposedly ’til death do them part?

  “I’m guessing you haven’t dated since he left.” His stayed hand poised over the little piles of hardware until he evidently located what he needed and scooped it into his palm.

  Talking to his back seemed easier than staring into his handsome face. “No. I’ve been too afraid. Being rejected or left behind hurth too much. Bethideth, men have thuth violent reactionth to thingth.” Now why had she divulged anything so personal? Yet, sharing with him while he worked was comfortable, as if they’d done it a thousand times before. What was up with that?

  His head whipped around and his dark eyes narrowed. “Did he hit you?”

  How could she confess the shame of it? Although it had only happened twice, the abuse was very real. She shook her head and lied. “No, of courthe not.”

  “I’ve noticed the panicked look in your eyes whenever I get close.” He tapped a screw with a hammer to get it started in a hole. “I wouldn’t hurt you. That’s not my style, especially after taking care of my sisters.”

  Now would be a good time to ask the questions that bothered her. “Why all the pretenth? Why the change in attitude toward me?”

  “Gotta admit the change didn’t come easy. You’ve caused a lot of sleepless nights. On the bad side, thinking of you has put me in a pissy mood, or so Jace tells me.” He shrugged, his back still facing her as he worked. “On the good side, my equipment at the station outshines everyone else’s. Having inanimate objects to take my frustrations out on gave me time to think.”

  “About…?”