by Megan Hussey
The words of a passing customer, however, seemed to break the illusion–and the pleasant fantasy it stirred in her mind.
“Mr. Elf there seems to be sleeping on the job,” the man snorted loudly. “All he’ll get this Christmas is coal in his stocking–and a festive pink slip.”
Starting, Sheila ran forward and leaned over the sleeping stranger, shaking his beefy shoulder until he shifted in his seat.
The man opened his eyes slightly to reveal an emerald green gaze that stole Sheila’s breath–and she was not quick to remove her hand from his strong, firm shoulder.
“Come on Sleeping Cutie, wake up,” she urged.
* * * *
Derrick awoke to behold what surely was the vision of a Christmas angel.
Her kind, sparkling blue eyes shone forth from a full cherubic face; one with rosy cheeks and cherry red lips.
Her long, angel blonde hair seemed beautifully accented by an elegant ensemble that boasted a red velvet jacket and matching skirt.
“Are you an angel?” Derrick thought he was lost in a dream.
The woman’s sharp guffaw, however, quickly dragged him into the bounds of reality.
“Me, an angel?” she asked. “Honey, you must be sleepy or maybe just drunk. I’m Sheila from the P.R. office. How’s it hanging, Dude?”
Now fully awake, Derrick laughed freely at Sheila’s easy wit.
“I recognize you,” he offered his hand. “I’m Derrick Barnes, a Leveaux stock boy. I really look forward to working with you.”
Sheila nodded, pumping Derrick’s hand with noticeable enthusiasm.
“It’s great to meet you, Derrick. I usually introduce myself to all the new employees, but lately I’ve been coming and going.”
AndI am going to come, if you don’t stop staring at me with that flawless smile, she added silently.
The smile quickly disappeared, however, and Derrick shifted uneasily in his seat.
“A great first impression I’ve made, sleeping on the job,” he pouted adorably. “I’m sorry, Ms. Baxter. I have a night job that consumes much of my energy. This won’t happen again.”
Sheila snorted, waving away his apology.
“We all have exhausting schedules these days,” she allowed. “My grandma met me here for lunch the other day and praised me for saying grace before our meal.”
She leaned forward and cupped her hand over her mouth to ensure confidentiality.
“I was copping a nap,” she added as she turned toward her plush Santa seat, “I will report you fully, however, if you continue to call me ‘Ms. Baxter.’ I introduced myself as Sheila for a reason.”
Chuckling, Derrick replied, “Sheila it is.”
Chapter Three
When a child walked into the holiday shopping section of Leveaux Department Store, they entered a Yuletide wonderland accented by hanging red velvet ribbons; garlands of silver and gold; lush green wreaths; and a towering Christmas tree adorned with hand-carved ornaments, ribbons in pink and lavender, sparkling tinsel, and an ivory-clad angel tree topper with an iridescent halo.
Derrick, for his part, felt far more enchanted by the angel who sat like a Christmas queen on a throne of burgundy plush.
And this queen, he noted, treated every child like royalty, doling out smiles and hugs in equal measure and listening attentively to the Yuletide wishes of each.
And he loved the ‘ha, ha, ha’ part; it cracked him up every time.
Better yet, it really seems to irritate Ms. Leveaux, he rubbed his hands together in fiendish delight.
By noon, Derrick busily searched the Leveaux Christmas decoration display for a convenient sprig of mistletoe. Yet finding none, he instead invited Sheila to share lunch with him in the store cafeteria.
The two soon sat closely at a long table decorated for the holidays with cinnamon spice candles. They shared a hearty helping of–um—well, no one was ever certain as to the identity of that stuff served in the Leveaux cafeteria.
“This is great,” Derrick lied kindly.
Sheila looked at him, smiling.
“Derrick, I’m not sure if I’ve ever met anyone with such a sweet disposition,” she told him, adding sardonically, “It borders on frightening. Someone could run over your foot with a monster truck and you’d say, ‘No harm, no foul. I needed new sneakers-and new phalanges-anyway.’”
Derrick threw his head back, his leonine mane falling appealingly over his shoulders as he guffawed outright.
“You make me laugh,” he praised her.
Sheila grinned.
“To tell you the truth, I did study humor writing in college,” she shrugged. “P.R. pays the bills.”
Derrick drew back, gaping.
“No way!” he exclaimed. “I’m studying writing at the University of South Florida.”
“My alma mater,” Sheila regarded him thoughtfully. “We seem to have a lot in common, Derrick. It might benefit us to have lunch together more often.”
Her companion nodded.
“If we can survive cafeteria cuisine together on a daily basis, I’d say that’s the foundation for a solid relationship,” he winked.
Sheila chuckled, but raised her eyebrows slightly.
“Oh, I meant to say ‘friendship,’ ” Derrick countered quickly, though his intense gaze said otherwise.
“Of course, I understand,” Sheila agreed, adding, “So tell me, what’s your favorite type of writing?”
Derrick paused, shifting uncomfortably.
“Well, I enjoy all types,” he stared her directly in the eyes, “But my favorite genre is erotica.”
His co-worker coughed loudly, practically doubling over on the cafeteria bench.
“Sorry,” she gratefully accepted the glass of water Derrick offered her. “The Leveaux Diner’s Delight always has that effect on me.”
“I didn’t mean to shock you,” Derrick apologized. “I just think that we as men need to be more attentive to women’s needs and desires; it benefits both of us in the bedroom. By writing erotic stories, I try to tap into women’s fantasies and find out what really gets their engines revved.”
Sheila shivered slightly, a telltale tingle coursing through her body before resting in her most private area.
I bet the Leveaux Diner’s Delight has never had this effect on anyone, she thought.
And it didn’t help that those sexy lips were curved upward in a gentle but suggestive smile, and that his emerald eyes reflected a hot, teasing gaze.
Clearing her throat loudly, Sheila arose from the table. “We really should get back to work. Let me know, though, if you ever need a research buddy.”
Derrick raised his eyebrows, cocking his blond head in obvious interest.
“Oh, I meant in terms of library research,” Sheila clarified, adding with a shrug, “Having an English degree, I know a good deal about classic erotic literature–everything from Anais Nin to Kathryn Harvey.”
Derrick gave a sharp nod, though he reveled in the becoming blush that crossed her fair cheeks.
“Of course,” he agreed.
The two continued to meet for lunch throughout the weeks that followed, discussing everything from erotic literature to the kid who–during his visit to ‘Santa’ one afternoon–unceremoniously spat up on Sheila’s red hat.
“You were so cool about it,” Derrick praised her.
His companion shrugged.
“I have a high tolerance level for kids,” she pulled a small photo from her purse, “These are my sister’s twins, Jenna and Jeremy. My pride and joy.”
Derrick nodded approvingly.
“They’re adorable,” he grinned. “I’d love to meet them sometime.”
Sheila shrugged.
“Well, as it turns out, I’m taking them ice-skating tonight at Bingham’s Rink in downtown Tampa. Would you like to join us?”
Derrick beamed.
“I would love to,” he patted her shoulder, “It’s been a long time since I enjoyed a good evening out.”
Sheila cocked her head, obviously surprised.
“A hunk like you considers ice-skating with two eight-year-olds ‘an evening out’?” she smirked. “I would think your dance card would be screaming for mercy.”
Yet the laughter she expected was replaced by an uncomfortable frown.
“Well, actually it is,” he said finally, adding with a sigh, “I assure you, though, that’s not always a good thing.”
Chapter Four
“Drat it to blazes! Where is a good sprig of mistletoe when you need it?”
Sheila stood at the cast iron fence that bordered the ice at Bingham’s Skating Rink. And while this rink stood beautifully decorated with hanging snowflakes and rainbow-colored Christmas lights, her gaze focused exclusively on the stunning blond man who ruled the ice with his smooth, flowing moves.
Dressed in a long black coat that perfectly complimented his tall, masculine frame, Derrick skated gracefully across the rink–earning admiring glances from every female who passed, and, for that matter, a few of the males.
Even so, the much admired male maintained his focus on the two children who skated happily beside him–ensuring that they never tripped or fell, and twirling them across the ice as they squealed with delight.
Sheila was particularly delighted when it was her turn–when Derrick stopped at the side of the rink and offered her his hand.
“Care to join us?” he graced her with a charming smile.
Soon Sheila hit the ice hand in hand with Derrick, watching as the twins skated happily in front of them.
“You’ve made them so happy this evening,” she melted him with her warm, blue-eyed gaze. “Thank you.”
Removing his hand from hers, he instead placed it fully around her waist and drew her closer to him. She took in her breath as he nuzzled her neck and whispered thrillingly in her ear.
“Could I make you happy this evening?” he asked, tone soft and sultry.
Without awaiting a response, he swept her into his arms and twirled her gracefully before him. Staring deeply into her eyes, he took her into a strong, all-consuming embrace and massaged her back with long and loving strokes.
Their friendly skate evolved into an intimate ballroom dance on ice, and Sheila took in her breath when–suddenly and impulsively–Derrick covered her mouth with his.
His kiss felt at first as light and gentle as a butterfly’s wing, then intensified as he pressed his lips surely and firmly into hers.
With a heated sigh her mouth opened beneath this intimate pressure, and their tongues too began to dance–meeting and twirling with a tender artistry that stole their breath.
Raising her hands, Sheila cupped Derrick’s smooth, sculpted cheeks in a heated grasp and drew him further into their kiss.
“Oooh,” he smiled wickedly against her lips as he pressed his chest thrillingly against hers.
“Eeeeuw!”
The couple broke abruptly apart, impelled by the small but powerful voice of Sheila’s nephew.
“Totally gross!” proclaimed Jeremy.
“Totally!” Jenna concurred.
Clearing her throat loudly, Sheila moved forward to give the twins an apologetic hug.
“You’re right; I’m sorry,” she patted their heads in a show of tender reassurance. “We shouldn’t have been doing that in front of you. I think it’s time we took a cocoa break.”
And for me, a cold shower might help, she took a deep breath and flashed a guilty smile in Derrick’s direction.
Indeed, the two acted much like guilty teen-agers the rest of the evening, exchanging longing looks and grasping hands under the table.
And several hours later, after dropping off the children at their parents’ house, Derrick knowingly and willingly broke the speed limit several times en route to Sheila’s home.
The mood had changed abruptly from earlier that evening, when Derrick had greeted his date at the door with a shy smile and a single red rose. And as they once again stood at her front door, he let out a playful growl as he pulled Sheila gently into his arms.
Relishing the feel of her full, voluptuous body, he buried his head in her neck and nibbled teasingly at her delicate skin. His hands, meanwhile, grasped and massaged her womanly hips.
Throwing her head back, Sheila took in her breath as she buried her hands in Derrick’s long, silky hair–before playfully grazing her ruby red fingernails across his back.
Raising his head, Derrick seared her lips with a swift hot kiss. His eyes abruptly widened, however, as he focused on a spot just above her head.
“Unbelievable,” he breathed.
Following his gaze, Sheila grinned when she saw the rich sprig of mistletoe that hung just above her door.
“Well, I’ve seen a really hot delivery man who makes frequent stops in this area,” she shrugged. “I was hoping I’d get lucky.”
She laughed, however, as Derrick drew back in surprise.
“Kidding, kidding,” she once again gathered his strong, muscular form into her warm embrace. “Actually, I hung the mistletoe about an hour before you arrived this evening.”
Taking this as a cue, Derrick buried a firm but gentle hand in Sheila’s silky blonde hair, drawing her head back for yet another passionate kiss.
This one, however, felt even more intense and deeply felt than their skating rink interlude. Wrapping her arms around Derrick’s firm shoulders, Sheila took in her breath as the two locked mouths, arms and hips in a full-bodied embrace.
She raised her eyebrows as she felt the hard press of Derrick’s erection strain through his coat and rub temptingly against her rounded stomach.
Drawing back, she looked questioningly into his eyes, and was met with a passion-dazed stare that shook her to her foundations.
“I may not be the delivery dude,” he moved her hands to place them on his firm, rock hard behind, “but if you’d care to invite me in, I assure you; you will get lucky.”
Leaning forward, Sheila planted an affectionate peck on Derrick’s full, sensual mouth.
Affectionate, he noted, but not as passionate as their previous kisses.
“Derrick, I really like you,” she assured him, adding sheepishly, “As you can probably tell. I think, however, that we’re moving too quickly.”
Derrick snorted, tweaking her nose playfully.
“I notice, though, that your hands haven’t moved from my rear end.”
Reddening, Sheila drew back and patted Derrick’s shoulder.
“I’m not leading you on–I do want to be with you,” she revealed. “I’m just…”
She paused, shrugging uneasily.
“Not ready,” she finished.
Derrick stared at her, his eyes seeming to search her face for answers.
Finding none, he leaned forward to kiss her cheek.
“It’s all right, Honey,” he gave her an affectionate hug before pulling away. “I don’t want to pressure you–and I hope you’ll still have dinner with me next weekend.”
“Of course,” Sheila assented quickly then bid him an uneasy goodbye before escaping into the darkened confines of her home.
Chapter Five
The next morning found a crowd of gleeful children at Leveaux Department Store, waiting in line to meet Santa Claus.
Yet Santa, while still kind and receptive to all who approached, felt far from jolly–and her elf was no proverbial picnic either, barely mustering the jaunty banter that was part of his job description.
Both sighed with relief when lunchtime came, and they could escape to the quiet sanctity of the Leveaux cafeteria–where only the bravest souls dared venture for their noon repast.
Facing one another at the cafeteria table, Derrick and Sheila began their meal with an identifiable silence–and a lunch neither could easily identify.
Finally Derrick broke the silence.
“I’m sorry, Sheila,” he took her hands warmly between his. “I moved too quickly last night. I was an animal and I scared you away.”
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Sheila shook her head, and squeezed his hands supportively.
“No worries,” she shrugged, “Actually, I quite liked the ‘animal’ part. You weren’t forceful or rough; just passionate.”
It was Derrick’s turn to shake his head.
“Then what didn’t you like?” he asked. “Why did you turn away from me?”
Sheila sighed deeply.
“Derrick, you know why I got this Santa gig,” she said, tone low. “It’s not because I’m great with kids.”
“But you are,” Derrick interrupted. “And you’re funny and spirited and…”
“And full-figured,” Sheila finished flatly. “It’s the same reason that, in my high school play, I played the nurse instead of Juliet. It’s the same reason I didn’t go to the prom.”
She paused, shrugging.
“And it’s the same reason I couldn’t sleep with you last night.”
Her companion gaped, shaking his head.
“You’re so pretty,” he offered.
“Thank you,” Sheila gestured expressively. “And if I was a cute, successful male, a few extra pounds wouldn’t matter.”
Leaning forward, she pinned him with a penetrating gaze.
“Derrick, almost every lover I’ve had has criticized my body,” her voice cracked slightly. “And every lover who did was cast quickly out of my life. I’m proud to be a big, beautiful woman, and anyone who doesn’t like it can leave.”
Pausing, she waved a weary hand in the air.
“I just got tired of dealing with the constant abuse,” she admitted, adding with a sad smile, “So I’ve been flying solo the last few years.”
Derrick nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“So tell me, Sheila,” his tone sounded soft and alluring. “When you fly solo these days…” He paused, looking her directly in the eyes. “Do you think of me?”
Sheila froze then giggled in spite of herself.
“Well,” she reddened slightly. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
Grinning slyly, Derrick rose from his seat and crossed slowly to her side of the table–using long, catlike strides that quickened Sheila’s pulse.
Sitting behind her, he gathered her in his arms and whispered thrillingly in her ear.