Gnome For The Holidays

by Jennifer Zane

  What kind of cuffs had Goldie given me? Didn't she sell fur lined handcuffs with quick releases?

  The boys shrugged again and dashed off down the hall, probably to start the movie, Transformers. Their interest in the handcuffs obviously over.

  I looked to Sam. I lifted our joined hands between us with a jangle of cold metal and thought for a moment. “Goldie,” I hissed. She had the key.

  I pulled my cell from my purse, to call Goldie so we could get our hands on the key.

  Sam looked at his watch and said, “Em, it's pretty late. Why don't we just call her in the morning?”

  I looked at him, stunned. “You don't care that she pulled this stunt? That she locked us together in some evil plan?”

  “An evil plan for what?”

  I just glared at him, knowing what kind of evil plan Goldie could come up with. Meddling woman.

  “Anyone could have picked that gift,” Sam continued.

  That gave me pause. “True. But that doesn't make us any less locked together.”

  I looked up the number and called Goldilocks. I didn't know the guy working but I explained my predicament. He started laughing and I held the phone away from my ear until he was done. Sam gave me an I-told-you-so look. After the guy pulled himself together, he gave me Goldie's cell and wished me luck. Grumbling, I listened to the phone ring, waiting for her to pick up. “Voicemail,” I told Sam.

  He nodded, not quite as bothered by this ridiculous situation as I.

  When I heard the beep, I said, “Goldie. This is Emma Hardy. Listen, about your gift for the exchange? Yeah, well, I'm handcuffed to someone and I need to get the key from you, which should have been in the box. When you get this—oh shit, I just remembered. You're in Big Sky for the night.” I gave a frustrated sigh. “First thing in the morning, call me.” I left my number and hung up.

  “No luck?” Sam asked, although he already knew the answer and was making fun of me.

  “We are officially stuck together,” I grumbled.

  Sam leaned in and gave me a soft, slow kiss. “Is that such a bad thing?”

  My mind went blank at the start of the kiss and all I could do was shake my head.

  ***

  We stood in the quiet of the Cindy's hallway for about five minutes considering our options, not too eager to share our predicament with fellow partygoers. We decided to make a run for it. We didn't even say goodbye. Under the circumstances, Cindy would probably understand. Our coats were right there in the den, I had my gift under my arm and Sam had his permanently—at least until I tracked down and killed Goldie—attached to me.

  We tried to see humor in the fact that neither could slip both arms into our jackets, so we must have looked ridiculous with a coat dangling off of one shoulder. The only thing more idiotic looking than that was me climbing through the driver's door, crawling over the center console of the car to get to my seat, one arm stuck out behind me attached to Sam. It wasn't graceful, and definitely not ladylike and I didn't want to think of the view Sam had of my rear end. The option of having Sam do it instead might have required the fire department come to extricate him, so I performed the acrobatics.

  The only perk in this fiasco was that Sam had taken my hand in his once we realized our situation was fairly permanent and had yet to let it go. Who knew something so simple as handholding could be so...intimate? Erotic even. It might be freezing out, but my hand was warm in his.

  We were safely tucked into the quiet confines of his car, the heater set to high, the heat seats on. Sam was driving since his right wrist was attached to my left. We agreed to leave my car behind and make Goldie pick it up in the morning. She'd gotten us into this mess, the least she could do would be to return my stranded wagon.

  It was snowing and extremely dark all around us. Heat started to blast from the vents. The radio pumped out the holiday tunes.

  “I've been wanting to ask you something since the first time we met at the office,” Sam said, once we'd left Cindy's neighborhood behind, “but thought it might be a little forward.”

  “Oh?” I asked, a little breathless. A lot curious. I had George the gnome in my lap and decided to take the Santa hat off. His smile was broad and frozen in place. I imagined him winking at me and saying, “Go for it!” I carefully set him on the back seat. If any move making was going to occur, I didn't want him leering.

  At a stop sign, Sam glanced over at me. “Your place or mine?”

  He had the same heated look on his face that I’d seen earlier, when he'd just stopped kissing me. The look that said....more, without any words.

  I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the nerves, desire and excitement all clumped there. “I guess you don't have much choice either way,” I replied. We were stuck together, literally, but that didn't mean he wanted to be. Kissing was one thing, but handcuffed together was something else entirely.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

  I looked down at our joined hands. The contact felt good. More than good. Warm, safe. But I had to know. “This isn't like last time. You were able to walk away. In fact, you did.”

  There was no doubt he knew exactly what I was talking about. Unless he was a complete womanizing jerk, I'd like to think he remembered our night in Seattle.

  He rubbed his free hand over his jaw. I could tell he was thinking, stalling. “I did walk away,” Sam replied.

  All excitement drained from me. It felt like coming down on Christmas morning to see a full stocking hanging from the mantel, then looking inside and seeing it stuffed with coal.

  “I didn't want to, but I did.” He squeezed my hand and I looked at him. Even in the darkness I could see the paleness of his eyes, the seriousness there. “For you.”

  I opened my mouth but nothing came out at first. “For me?” I repeated, completely confused.

  Sam nodded his head. “Emma, you have no idea, do you?”

  His eyes searched over my face seeking something. What, I didn't know.

  I just shrugged, so he continued. “You were up for promotion. I knew it because I was your boss. But I didn't want you thinking you got it because you'd slept with me.”

  Headlights glared brightly behind us. We'd completely forgotten we were stopped at an intersection. It was late, the roads were quiet, but we were definitely in the way. Sam headed toward town.

  I sat there, staring out my side window, the holiday lights on houses a blur as I thought about his words. He had wanted me after all! The coal might have been in the stocking, but there was a big gift from Santa under the tree. Phew. I felt better. Confused, but better. “You wanted to sleep with me?”

  Sam darted a glance at me, both hands firmly on the wheel. “It's not just past tense.”

  “Oh,” I whispered. He wants me. Now.

  “Why didn't you tell me?” I wondered.

  “I thought I just did.” He laughed. “Okay, I'll try to make it a little more obvious.” We pulled up to a red light and Sam turned to look at me. This time I was pinned in place by the seriousness of his gaze. He moved our entwined hands to his lap, the chain of the handcuffs rattling. “That's not a gift in my pocket, but you can definitely unwrap it later.”

  I moaned. I actually moaned. Who wouldn't? I felt all of his very large manliness beneath my palm and I had no doubt. He wanted me. Right now.

  The light changed to green. I stayed quiet because I was a little afraid of my feelings for Sam. We didn't know each other that well, and we hadn't even seen each other for a long time. Regardless, I felt like I knew him. As if the months apart fell away, as if I'd known him forever.

  Sam moved our hands to my thigh and left them there until we pulled up in front of a small house downtown, which I assumed was his. We were north of Main Street, only a few blocks from the fairgrounds. There were no holiday lights up, but a lamp shone warmly in the front window.

  “Since you didn't answer, I picked my place. I hope that's okay,” he said.

  “Sure,” I replied. “I would've
understood, you know, if you'd just told me. That night, in the elevator, you could have explained. I'd like to think I would have understood.”

  “What, having my tongue down your throat one minute and then gone the next?” Sam's lip turned up at the corner.

  I smiled, too. “Something like that. I've just always wondered. Thought the worst.” I put my free hand on top of his, making a hand sandwich.

  “The worst is knowing the person you're kissing is going to hate you. I've spent all this time wanting to tell you, but I was sworn to confidentiality. Then, walking past you at work before I left, knowing you thought I was scum—”

  “Not scum, exactly.”

  Sam smiled. “I'm sure you've come up with lots of words for me.”

  I pretended to consider. “A few.”

  He lifted a palm to run gently over my hair. “I quit. To be with you.”

  My mouth fell open. “What?”

  Sam leaned in, his mouth hovering over mine, looking at me so closely, and whispered, “I want you, Em. I've always wanted you. I'd signed papers, legal papers that kept me from being with you if we both worked there. So I quit. I made sure nothing could stand in my way.”

  He didn't lower his mouth to mine. He didn't have to. I stretched up so our mouths met in a kiss filled with desperation, with yearning to make up for all the months we'd lost.

  This kiss, as the coldness seeped back into the car, was like none other. And I wanted more. “You've got me,” I said, breathless. I lifted our joined hands and we both couldn't help but laugh.

  ***

  We stumbled into Sam's house. As soon as the front door closed behind us, I was pressed up against it, Sam pressed up against me. We kissed as if our mouths were locked together, not our wrists, eventually coming up for air. Long enough to strip our one-armed coats off, kick off our shoes and boots. Sam took my bag and dropped it onto a couch.

  He gazed at me, his breath ragged. I recognized desire when I saw it. Sam walked backward, tugging me down a hall toward, yup, his room.

  He flipped on the light switch and a bedside lamp lit the room in a soft glow. The walls were tan, the floor a cream carpet, navy drapes and wood blinds at the window. A large king-sized bed filled most of the space. Two doors led off each side of the room, one I assumed was the bathroom, the other a closet. It was neat. Tidy. The bed made, no dirty laundry tossed on the floor.

  “I've had fantasies about being with you.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Really?” He'd fantasized about me? I never imagined myself to be a vision for someone's fantasy before, and I had to say it was an incredible turn-on. “Were handcuffs ever involved?”

  He tugged me up so we were pressed together from chest to toes. “In one of them, but not the first. I thought I'd discover if you were into kink a little later than after our first kiss.”

  I ran my free hand over the soft material of his shirt, finding the top button. “I have to say, I didn't realize I was into kink until our first kiss.” I struggled with the button, not realizing how hard it was with just one hand. “I think you're going to have to help me here.”

  “Oh, no. You first.” Sam released his hold on my hand and my arm dangled in the air as he slid the cardigan from my shoulders.

  I slipped one arm free. “Um, I think we have a problem.”

  We looked at each other, both realizing our predicament at the exact same time. Our clothes, at least one arm's worth, would be stuck on the handcuffs. If we wanted to get naked, which I personally thought was a very good idea, my sweater, shirt and bra—and Sam's shirt, which I was very eager to get off—would be clumped down over the handcuffs. I started giggling.

  “I was in a rush anyway,” Sam replied. And that was the last either of us said for quite some time. Sam swallowed my laughter in a searing kiss. I worked frantically at his shirt, but Sam batted my hands away and he tackled it himself, one button pinging off and landing on the other side of the room, our lips still locked. I helped with the little buttons down the front of my blouse, but he only parted the fabric to reveal my lacy bra. He dropped to his knees in front of me, his face perfectly in line for, oh yes!

  My jeans were shucked, his joined mine on the floor all the while my hands roamed over his body. His chest was all that I'd imagined, and then some. Broad, solid and hot to the touch beneath my fingertips. And lower, oh YES!

  One minute I was looking at Sam's generous endowments, the next I was bouncing on his bed and seeing the ceiling. But not for long because Sam joined me by the tug of the handcuffs. All I could see was the look of passion, pleasure, and dare I say, love in his pale eyes?

  When his mouth met mine once again, my eyes fluttered closed. Our handcuffed hands clasped together on the bed by the side of my head, our fingers entwined. But happily, Sam only needed one hand to have me quickly shouting out my own version of Joy To The World. Later, Sam joined me and we definitely made a great duet.

  My cell phone startled me awake. At first I didn't know where I was, or why I was so blissfully warm. It all came back with wonderful clarity as I felt Sam's body pressed against my back, like two spoons in a drawer. Sam's arm was wrapped over me, my bra covered breast nestled in the palm of his cuffed hand. Being handcuffed wasn't as bad as I first imagined.

  Ring! I groaned, not wanting to move. Leaning forward, I bent at the waist to grab my jeans off the floor. Sam sighed as I tugged on his arm to reach into the pocket. “My hand was happy,” he said, his voice rough and sleepy.

  My breast was happy, too. Grabbing my cell, I flopped back on the bed, Sam still on his side next to me. His hand slid my open shirt and sweater out of the way to return to its happy place, his fingers doing very distracting things.

  “Hello,” I said into the phone, feeling my nipple harden beneath his touch. It was going to be a very short call.

  “MeMe! What's this strange voicemail? You're stuck in handcuffs? Please tell me it's to someone who's super hot and sexy!” Goldie's very perky voice was loud enough that Sam opened his eyes and quirked a brow.

  “Super hot and sexy?” he whispered and waggled his eyebrows.

  “MeMe? Are you there?” Goldie asked.

  “MeMe?” Sam repeated.

  I swatted his hand off my breast, ignoring his question. I couldn't talk to Goldie with that kind of distraction.

  “Yes, I'm here and handcuffed to someone. You didn't include the keys in the gift box. Are you insane?”

  Sam lay there next to me, eyes closed, sexy as can be, his chest hair and flat abs peeking out from between the sides of his dress shirt, now completely wrinkled and mussed from sleeping—and quite a bit of not-sleeping—in it. He smiled broadly, clearly amused. He didn't seem bothered by this at all.

  “Keys? Of course I put the keys in the box. That wouldn't have been safe.” Goldie sounded offended.

  “What are you talking about?” I turned away from Sam and covered my hand over the phone. I yanked at the shoulder of my sweater to pull it back in place. “Goldie, I had to...to pee in front of someone else!” I whispered. We'd done more on the first date than the average couple.

  I felt a tug on my wrist but didn't turn around.

  “Who are you stuck to? You never said, is he hot?” Goldie asked, persistent.

  “Sam.”

  “Sam? The guy you were talking about at the store the other day?”

  I turned and looked at Sam over my shoulder, did a double take, then whipped around to face him, the tails of my shirt flopping open. He was sitting there, half naked, holding up a tiny key.

  Stunned, I just sat there staring at him, processing, ignoring whatever Goldie was chattering on about. “You had it?” I asked him.

  Sam smiled wickedly. “I wanted you all to myself and I figured this was the only way to guarantee you wouldn't bolt before you heard me out.”

  “You had the key, all this time?” I repeated. I didn't know what to think. He'd tricked me. Lured me to his bed by underhanded plans. Had he been right? Would I have g
iven him the time to explain why he'd walked away that night in Seattle? I'd like to think so, but I couldn't be sure anymore. Too much had happened, too much had changed in the past seven hours.

  “MeMe?” Goldie said through the phone.

  I looked at Sam. Really looked at him. He was smiling at me, but it was tentative. Contrite, like a little boy who knew he'd done wrong. He had a crease in his brow and his free hand played with the white sheet.

  Was I mad? I didn't feel mad. Okay, I was a little mad. How dare he take away my choice! At the same time though, I was...happy. He'd locked himself to me because he wanted me. So much that he was willing to risk my anger when the truth was discovered.

  He'd seduced me. Pure and simple. It had started at the party with the kiss under the mistletoe with three sets of covered eyes and...hadn't stopped yet. I still wanted him. My body was screaming, “More! I want more!”

  Once he turned that little key in the lock, I wasn't going to run away. He sat there, looking at me, expecting me to do just that. But I wanted him even without the handcuffs, to get to know him with two free hands.

  I smiled. Big and bright. “You had the key the whole time.”

  “You're not mad?” he questioned, one eyebrow raised. Cautious. Still locked together, he couldn't escape my wrath.

  I shook my head. “It's the most romantic thing that's ever happened to me.” I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry with happiness.

  “MeMe!” Goldie shouted, sounding angry at being ignored.

  Sam tugged on the handcuffs, pulling me into him. “So you were talking about me, huh?”

  I nodded and I felt my cheeks heat.

  “That's really good to hear,” he said. “I like your nickname. MeMe. But I'd like to change it.” He lowered his head to mine for a quick kiss, then moved to nibble down my neck.

  “Oh?” I asked, hitting End on the phone. And Goldie.

  “How about MineMine?”

  Other books by Jennifer Zane:

  Gnome On The Range

  Gnomeless

  Gnome, Alaska

  The Lady And The Lawman