Dear Santa, I Can Explain!

by Kayt Miller

  As the crowd claps, I stand and turn to Lexie. Bending down slowly, I kiss her lips. Standing, I watch her smile up and me as she begins to clap. “Congratulations, Gabriel.”

  I smile down at her and pump my chest out like a proud bird. “Thank you.”

  Walking to the podium, Brodie turns holding his hand out waiting. As we shake hands, Brodie pulls me into him wrapping an arm around me in one of those man hugs. When he’s close enough, he whispers in my left ear, “You’d better treat her right, dick. The second you screw up, I’m taking my shot.”

  I pull away plastering on the fakest smile in my arsenal. The gauntlet has been thrown. Just under my breath, I whisper, “The fuck you will, Brandon.” Yeah, I know his name is Brodie. I’m just being a dick.

  “Fucker,” he mutters as he stomps away.

  I give a very bland and uninspired speech. People clap and smile. When it’s finally over, I’m relieved because it’s fucking time to leave. I send Eric a text letting him know we’ll be out soon. Without a word, I take Lexie by the hand and lead her to the coatroom.

  “Congratulations on your award. That’s amazing, Gabriel.”

  “Thank you.” I know it’s a prestigious award, a distinction I’ve worked hard for, but it’s the last thing on my mind right now. No, what’s on my mind is the woman standing next to me waiting for her ridiculous capelet. The woman who has an uncanny ability to make me feel more jealousy than I have with any other woman. Ever. It’s infuriating.

  Chapter 32

  Lexie

  Gabriel’s been acting strange all evening. Well, not initially. When we first arrived, he was normal, but after the cocktail hour, he got quiet. He barely said two words during dinner and those two words revolved around the fact that I wasn’t eating. Photographers were running around all over the place snapping pictures of everyone in attendance, especially the famous folks. I wasn’t about to tell him that I didn’t want the image of me stuffing my face plastered on the cover of some tabloid. No. Thank. You.

  Gabriel’s famous enough to garner that kind of attention. According to Cammy, he’s so good looking and such a notorious playboy, he tends to get the spotlight placed on him at events like this one. Couple that with the drama surrounding Christine and her baby and it’s a recipe for lots of pictures. I only hope none of them show me eating dinner.

  When Eric pulls up to the curb, Gabriel holds the door as I step into the limo. He follows quickly behind sliding in so close, our bodies are touching. A chill runs through me anticipating what might happen later. Our drive to the event was intense: hot and sexy. The ride home is just intense. “Gabriel?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did, uh, did I embarrass you or something?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “You seem distant. Are you angry with me?”

  “No.” He sighs. “Okay. I don’t appreciate you throwing yourself at the first man to pay you any attention.”

  I gasp. The first man to pay me any attention? Turning to face him I ask, “What are you talking about?”

  “That football player. What was his name again? Brandon?”

  “It was Brodie, and I didn’t throw myself at him. He was thoughtful. I appreciated the fact that he wanted to keep me company.” I arch my brow at him and wait.

  “You didn’t want my company. All you wanted to do was run off to see Blake and Pamela.”

  “Gabriel, that’s not true at all. And it’s Brodie.”

  “Of course. You’re right. I’m wrong.”

  “No one is wrong here. I’m confused, though.”

  “Not surprising.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re just a little simple sometimes.”

  That’s it. First I’m some sort of slut because I made a new friend who happens to be a man and now I’m dumb? I'm angry. It’s my turn to cross my arms over my chest for a little pout. Gabriel Parker still has a lot to learn about women. Well, namely this woman.

  Having been single for a long time, I’m not accustomed to answering to anyone else. I agree with his sentiment. I am independent. When I’m at social functions, I like to meet and talk to new people. How else am I going to make new friends? It is just part of my extroverted personality. Maybe I should explain that to him. “I’m not dumb, Gabriel.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” He’s not looking at me. He’s staring out the window on his side of the car.

  “What did you mean by simple, then?”

  “Naïve. You’re naïve.”

  “No, I’m not the least bit naïve. I know how life works. I think you’re confusing that word with optimism. I’m always hopeful I’ll get a glimpse of the good in a person. It’s not like I live in princess fairy land.” I turn and stare out my own window.

  “Just don’t expect a guy like Brodie what’s his name to be the guy you think he is.”

  I turn in my seat to face him, “I don’t expect anything from Brodie. I don’t want anything with Brodie. He was nice. He bought me a drink. That’s it. I’m going to watch him play in one of his matches sometime, sure. There’s nothing wrong with meeting new people and making new friends.”

  “I know,” he says defensively. “I meet new people all the time. I just don’t hang all over them.”

  I arch my brow at him and say nothing. Why bother? Jackass.

  Chapter 33

  Gabriel

  I know. I know. I’m acting like a prick. But, for some reason, I can’t seem to help myself. I’m upset about the fact that she would rather spend the evening talking to another man, a stranger, than talking to me. I’m dismayed that she doesn’t seem to need me.

  When the car pulls up in front of her apartment, I reach for the door handle. Before I can get it open, Lexie touches my forearm. “No. Don’t trouble yourself.”

  “It’s no trouble,” I say opening the door. Stepping out onto the curb I reach my hand out to assist her. She doesn’t take my hand. Instead, she uses the car door. “I said no. I can take care of myself. I have for years. Goodnight, Gabriel.”

  “Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Her only response is a gruff, “Sure.”

  Back in the car, Eric has dropped the partition down, and I can see his eyes in his rear view mirror. “What?”

  “You’re fucking up with her.”

  “No shit. Really?”

  “She’s not like the others.”

  “I know.” I snap. I lay my head back on the seat running my hands over my face. God, I’m tired.

  “So, do you want my advice?”

  “No.” Yes. Eric is a good guy. He’s still married to the same high school sweetheart he knocked up in college. He loves his wife and four kids. It’s fucking adorable.

  He chuckles. “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Whatever you used to do with the others, do the opposite with her.”

  “Huh? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Well, with the other women, you were distant, aloof.”

  “Um, hmm.” Aloof works for me.

  “So, be the opposite. Be attentive and doting.”

  “Doting? What is this, the 1950s?” Oh, wow. Lexie is all about another era, at least her clothes are representative of that time. “What else?”

  “You only took them out. You never took any of your previous women to your place. It’s impersonal.”

  “I like impersonal.” I rub my face again. “But, I see what you mean. I considered taking her to my place tonight.”

  “She’s also not that kind of girl.”

  “What kind of girl?”

  “You can’t just take her home and expect her to jump into bed with you.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Boss, if you haven’t figured it out yet, then I’m not sure my spelling it out for you is going to help.”

  “Figured wh
at out, damn it. Spit it out, Eric.”

  “She’s a keeper.”

  I lift my head up from the back of the seat and stare at Eric who is looking at me in his rearview mirror again. “A keeper?”

  “That's what I said. She’s one of those girls you hang onto for dear life. You want to keep her because she’ll make you happy. She’ll love you for you, not for your millions, boss.”

  Harrumphing, I mutter. “There’s no such creature.” All women ever want from me is what I can give them or whom I can introduce them to at parties.

  “Alright. Suit yourself. But, when you finally realize I’m right, it might be too late. Let me just suggest one thing.”

  “Like I could stop you.”

  Eric chuckles, “Try the first thing I said.”

  I can’t remember the first one. I draw my brows together trying to remember. It’s been a long, damn day.

  “Try being attentive and doting.”

  “Attentive and doting.” I look out my window as I think. What the hell does attentive and doting look like?

  “I can tell you have no idea what I mean. So, here are some suggestions. Take her a coffee in the morning. Send her flowers. Tell her you like her outfit.”

  I let out a guffaw at that last suggestion.

  “If you can’t muster up that compliment, tell her she looks pretty. That won’t be hard to do. The woman should have been born in the 40s. She’s a pin-up kind of girl.”

  “I know.” I don’t think I like Eric thinking about her in that way. “Eyes to yourself, asshole.”

  “Now, see? You’ve never been jealous before.”

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “Yeah, you are. You don’t want me even thinking about her as a bombshell. And boss? She is a bombshell. If I didn’t love Jen, I’d…”

  “Seriously, stop it. It’s pissing me off.”

  Eric laughs from the front seat. “I rest my case.”

  Chapter 34

  Lexie

  As soon as I unlock my door, I drop my purse, kick off my shoes, unbutton my caplet letting it drop, and race to the kitchen. I barely greet my animal friends as I go. “Oh, my god, Cy. I’m starving.”

  I wrench open my 1970s olive green refrigerator and grab the first thing I see, a package of processed cheese and one remaining tortilla. Remaining from when? That’s the question. I pull out the stale tortilla, dry and crunchy on the edges, and lay it on a plate. I unwrap three pieces of cheese and set them on top. I place, what I’ll call a quesadilla, into my toaster oven and set it for five minutes at three fifty.

  That gives me just enough time to strip out of my clothing and into my jammies. Once the bell chimes on my dinner, I pull it from the toaster oven, fold the tortilla in half, and bite into it. “Mm, mmm, Cy,” I say with my mouth full. “It sucks but it’s something.” I open the fridge door again looking for milk. “No milk, Cy. I need to go to the store.” I look at the stack of dirty dishes in my sink and sigh.

  Carrying my food into my tiny bedroom, I see a pile of laundry in the corner. “Cy, I need to stay home and get some things done. I can’t keep up this hectic schedule with Gabriel. How does he do it?” Oh, I know how he does it. He’s got help. No doubt he’s got a maid at home that takes care of all of the mundane household tasks like cooking, cleaning, and buying groceries.

  I’d say he was lucky, but I actually enjoy cleaning my house, doing my laundry, and choosing my food for the week. I feel a sense accomplishment when my house smells lemony and bleachy, and my clean clothes are folded and put away.

  Sitting on the edge of my bed, I finish my dinner and sip from the glass of water from my nightstand. I think it’s been here for a few days, but I shrug.

  Once I’m finished with the water, I take my plate and glass into the sink. “Okay, guys. Now I’ll come check on everyone.” I start with Shelly. She’s sitting in a shallow puddle of water, tucked into her shell. I reach into her habitat and take out some water-drenched food pellets along with remnants of carrots left from her treat the other day. “I’ll clean your cage tom… I mean Sat… Sunday.” Crap, that’s three days away.

  Ron and Hermione are awake. Not surprising since it’s one in the morning now. They skitter into their dome house when they see me coming. Why they’re still scared of me is beyond me. I think it’s the nature of the species. I refresh their water and refill their food dish. I grab a hunk of chopped straw and set it into the cage. They like to refresh their bedding with straw. “I’ll clean your cage on Sunday too, kids.”

  At Cy’s cage, I see the disappointment in his eye. I haven’t been home lately. Hell, it feels like I’ve been gone a month. “Sorry, buddy. It’ll be over soon.” He chirps, and I swear he just told me to eff off. Okay, I’m projecting, but I can’t help it. I feel guilty.

  I change his water, give him some fresh seed and talk to him. Essentially, kissing his tail feathers. “Oh, Cy, you’re so handsome, yes you are. Yes, you’re a handsome boy. Mama loves you.” And so on. You get the idea.

  However, his one eye says it all. “Good try, but I’m not buyin’ it.”

  Once everyone is squared away, at least for now, I slide into my full-size bed. I barely get my eyes closed when there’s a knock on my door. “No,” I moan. Maybe if I ignore it, they’ll go away.

  Knock, knock, knock. “No such luck, Cy.”

  I lumber to the front door, dragging my feet along the hardwood floors. I’m too tired for this. “Who is it?” I ask through the door. It’d better not be my creepy neighbor again. I can only be nice for so long.

  “Gabriel.”

  Huh? “What? Why?”

  “Please open the door, Lex.”

  I unlock the door and pull it open. The chain still engaged. I peek out and see him standing in the same outfit from the awards thing, but he’s holding a brown paper sack. “Did you forget something?”

  “I came to feed you.”

  Just then, I smell it. Italian spices are emanating from the bag. I shut the door, drag off the chain and re-open the door. Opening it wide, Gabriel walks down my short hallway right into my kitchen. Placing the bag on my counter, he starts to open my cupboard doors. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for plates.”

  I scoot past him in my tiny kitchen and reach for the cupboard above my toaster oven. The reach results in my pajama top riding up exposing some of my skin. Apparently, that didn’t escape Mr. Handsy. His palms start at my sides then they slide forward until he’s got them wrapped around me. “I’m sorry.” He says into the top of my hair. “I was an asshole.”

  My body tingles from his touch. “Yes. You were definitely, a jackass.” My arms are still raised attempting to grab my only two plates from the cupboard. I’m sort of afraid to move at this point. I’m not wearing a bra. As soon as I put my arms down, the girls are going to drop.

  Damn it, my arms are starting to hurt like this, so I slowly lower them. If I ease them down and arch my back a little bit, perhaps he won’t know.

  Oops, bad idea. Arching my back caused my bottom to bump into his pants. His hard pants.

  Without a word spoken, Gabriel slides his big, warm palms beneath my sleep shirt until they’re resting beneath my breasts. “Lexie?” he says hoarsely.

  “Yeah.” I know I sound equally turned on.

  “Can I touch you?”

  “Yeah.” Why am I doing this? I’m an idiot, sure. But, this man makes my body sing. His hands move up until they’re both pressed over the peak of my breasts. My nipples harden instantly from his touch.

  “Jesus, Lex.” He runs his palms back and forth over the top, squeezing, pinching, and pulling my nipples as he goes.

  I arch further into his hands and moan. It’s been so long since anyone has touched me. I may burst from this alone.

  As he works my chest, he leans down and runs his lips and tongue on the side of my neck. When he nips at my ear, I swear to God, I come. It’s been so long, I can’t be sure. My reaction to all of this seem
s to be my pressing my backside into him. He presses closer to me rubbing himself on me while continuing his ministrations. “I need to see you, baby.”

  Oh, he pulled out the ‘baby’ card. I know some women think that’s corny but I love it. I think my ovary exploded at his term of endearment.

  “Mm-hmm.” No real words will come to me now. Only moaning and nonsensical sounds.

  “Are you wet for me?”

  “Mm-hmm.” See? No words.

  Sliding his right hand down my stomach, he uses his fingertip to nudge my waistband open enough for him to slip his palm down. When his hand slides over the front of my sex and further until he’s cupping me, barely skimming my clitoris, I come. It was a real one this time.

  “You’re soaking.”

  His fingers work my body masterfully. It’s like he knows me. He knows how to make it sing. “Please, Lex? Let me see you.”

  I nod and raise my hands above my head. He takes the cue and lifts my shirt up until it’s past my hands. I lower my arms slowly. Turning in his arms, I look up at him. I’m feeling a little shy. The one guy I did sleep with, it was in a bed, and it was dark. Tonight, the light is on, and I’m standing in my tiny kitchen with a man who still has his damn overcoat on. “Um, I feel a little underdressed.”

  “That’s okay.” He murmurs as he stares at my chest. “I knew they’d be pink.” He brings his fingers up and pinches my nipples making me squeak. “I wonder what else is pink?”

  Oh, hells bells, the man has a dirty mouth. I nearly come again just thinking about what else he’ll say.

  Chapter 35

  Gabriel

  I’ve always dated slim women, many of whom had breast implants. Seeing Lexie’s soft, round figure and her naturally large breasts is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I want to press my face between them and live there forever. “I knew they’d be pink.” I move my fingers up to the tips of her breasts and give them a little pinch. Not hard. I don’t want to hurt her. Far from it, I want to hear her moan again. Using my thumbs, I run them over the tips once, twice, three times. When I watch her eyes flutter shut, I say, “I wonder what else is pink?”