“What was that all about?” I asked, running a point of sale’ report from the register.
“Nothing, just a favor for a friend,” she responded, her tone nonchalant as she began folding men’s boxers for a new display. I eyed her suspiciously. “Stop looking at me like that, Sissy. I have a life outside of this shop. Remember?” she said dramatically.
“I know you do. But, let’s keep that ‘life’ for when work is done. The new men’s line just came in. We need to get the rest of it steamed, and I have to build the plan-o-gram for—”
“Yea, yea, this isn’t our first rodeo with a new line. I know how this goes. What I want to know is, have you heard anything about the sexy Santa? We put those ads up days ago. Do we have any bites?”
“Eh, nothing too promising. A couple of college guys looking to make money while they are home for Christmas break—like I suspected. Some of them don’t look a day over twelve, though. You may like that though because of your ‘age forty is geriatric’ issues. One Elvis Santa responded—”
“Oh, Lord. That is several ‘hell nos and a next!’” She held up a hand.
I continued, “A few dick pics…”
Her eyes widened. “Okay...what level of peen are we talking?”
“Niya!”
“I’m kidding, Jamilya. Geesh. What’s got your panties in a bunch?”
I cast her a wary glance. “I’m going to start building the men’s display over there—”
She nudged me to a stop. “Hold up. Strick-a-lean, strick-a-fat, who in the world is that?”
I almost choked on the sip of coffee I’d just gulped down. This was my sister’s colorful way of saying, ‘we were graced by a male customer that had caught her eye.’
I turned and caught sight of the man in question.
Oh, my God.
My mouth fell open.
Niya turned when I didn’t respond and reached over to place two fingers under my chin, assisting me with shutting my wide-opened trap. “You’ll let flies in, Sis,” she whispered.
“Shut up,” I hissed at her.
There was no need to ask who that was; I already knew. He looked just as good, if not better than he had when we graduated high school. Lean and hard in all the right places, toned arms with an all-over sculpted body, I could see through that form-fitting dress shirt. He’d been fit in high school, played every ball that was a ball, but he’d only been an eighteen-year-old boy, then. Now, almost twenty years have passed, and he was filling those dress pants out like a man.
Holy shit. Bryson Tillerman.
“C-can I help you?” I asked, but my voice came out as a squeak.
He looked me over, head to toe. I was dressed simply in an A-line dress that fell to my knees. I wore leggings underneath to brace against the chill of the December weather with ankle boots at my feet. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail that fell just to my shoulders. I was pretty sure I had reapplied my lipgloss after I’d shoved a sandwich in my face for lunch. I know I didn’t look like a model today, but I looked presentable. I looked much better than I had in high school—I’m sure. I’d worked the baby fat off shortly after I started college. In its place were some ample curves. Instead of the bulky rimmed glasses, I wore more stylish cat-eye frames, now. I felt like a strong and confident woman. Yet, under his watchful eye, I didn’t know. It felt like high school all over again.
“Uh, yea,” he said finally after he finished his inspection of me. I took that opportunity to look him over as well. He was wearing fitted black dress pants with a light blue button-up. The top button was undone like maybe he’d worn a tie earlier, and he’d gotten tired of it and tossed it before lunch. No jacket accompanied his look, and dress loafers covered his large feet. His black hair seemed a bit rumpled as if lunch didn’t go as planned.
“Are you here for the sexy Santa interview?” Niya stepped forward and batted her lashes at him.
He smiled at her, glanced at me briefly again, before looking back at Niya.
“Um, I stopped in to introduce myself—”
“Because you are looking to be the sexy Santa? I think he is perfect for it. Hmm, I don’t know what it is; he just has that je ne sais quoi about him. What do you think, Jamilya? Say ‘ho ho ho’ for me, Santa.”
Oh, Lord, the man had my sister speaking French. “Niya, stop it.” I stepped forward. “Hi, my name is Jamilya Hawkins. I’m the owner of the place. Please don’t mind my sister; she is...a hot mess.”
Bryson chuckled as he took my outstretched hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jamilya.” His gaze dropped to my lips and even farther to the V of my dress, which showcased a valley of cleavage. His brown eyes heated every inch of me. But, in those eyes, I didn’t see familiarity. He didn’t remember me as I remember him. He had to know, I knew his family owned this place, though or maybe he didn’t. But, why in the world would he be here for the Santa Claus interview?
“If you are really here for the interview, we can go back to my office,” I offered.
He didn’t respond at first. Instead, he looked around.
There were three customers in the shop. Christmas music played overhead—Jingle Bell Rock or some such annoyance, on satellite radio. I should really change the station. I wasn’t really into around the clock holiday music.
“Sure...the Santa job, why not?” His sexy mouth turned into a slow smirk. I wondered about all the naughty things he could do with that mouth. My face heated from the thought. It had been a while since I heated the sheets with anyone, too long in fact, and even longer since
I’d thought about this man that way. There had been some nights in my teens, I’d fantasized the living hell out of this guy. Niya was right. I was overdue. I was ravenous, and this man was looking like a whole snack.
“Niya,” I called out to my sister, without taking my eyes off our potential ‘Santa.’ “Can you watch the store while I...interview Mister...” I looked at him, awaiting a response. He had to identify himself sooner or later. He hadn’t even recognized my name. That was a shot to the ego, but I’d survive.
“Mister Kringle, Claus, Ol’ Saint Nick? Fine, Sister, I got you,” Janiya cut into my thoughts, putting an arm around Bryson and giving him her prize-winning grin, as only she could. “Right this way, Sir,” she said, leading him toward the back to the store, but I stopped her mid-prance. “I’ve got this, Niya.”
“Oh, I’m so sure you do, Milya. Please don’t fuck it up,” she hissed at me.
“If you don’t get out of here,” I sneered right back.
Mr. Fine didn’t hear any of our conversation, as he looked around the store. “This is a nice set up you have here, Miss. Hawkins.”
“Please call me Jamilya.”
He turned to me. “I like that name.” He looked me dead in the eye, without losing contact, and shit, my heart stopped. His gaze dropped as if he could see it beating through my dress before rising again.
Well, Merry damn Christmas, and thanks for naming me Jamilya, Mama.
“Thank you,” I managed.
The grin slowly returned to his handsome face, heating me to my core; I could have melted to a pile of goo right then and there.
I cleared my Sahara Desert-like throat and pointed to the back storeroom. It doubled as a stock room for the new merch and my office. It wasn’t much, but it was mine, and I intended to keep it that way. If this Sexy Santa foolishness worked, I’d be able to keep my store and a portion of my livelihood—God willing and fingers crossed.
“We’ll talk back here,” I said, asking him to follow me into the back room.
“Absolutely, after you, Jamilya.
God, don’t say my name one more time.
I can’t think about how that would sound in the bedroom...candles lit… slow jams playing, laying on my back…heels to the ceiling…the weight of him pressing me into a large, plush bed, working in and out of me in time with the music.
I had to shake the image out of my head.
Okay, okay, okay.
Milya, if you don’t get your mind right!
“Yes, so follow me,” I said again before walking in the direction of the backroom. My voice sounded squeakier than a door hinge needing WD-40.
“Gladly,” his voice was low and rumbled with more promise than I needed to hear in the middle of the afternoon. I turned and caught him checking out my ass. He looked up at me with no regret in his expression.
Oh, Santa.
Chapter Seven
Bryson
This is not how I expected this meeting to go. I wanted to stop by and introduce myself, apologize for the theft earlier and congratulate her on the great idea for bringing in new business for the holiday; that is it. But, one intrusion from her little sister, and just one look at that body up close and personal, and here I am, interviewing for a mall Santa gig, just to have one more minute with her.
But, that one look was a good one. Hot damn.
From three stories up, I thought this woman was attractive, but in person...hmm. Now, all I want for Christmas is some hot chocolate in the form of this sexy woman in front of me. Those legs, them hips, that ass, and plump lips, hell yea I’d be her Sexy Santa. Sign me all the way up on her naughty list. I needed a cold shower before I did anything else. But, what I need to do now is stay down here in this lingerie store to get to know her—the curves, the smile, those eyes, Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in the manger, Jamilya Hawkins had just made my grown-up Christmas list. There was something about her, though—something familiar.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, like, I’d met her before, somewhere, sometime—college, maybe? Hmm, maybe high school? I thought of her name and ran back through the people I went to school with. We lived in a pretty diverse city. I mean, the school was predominantly White, but there were Black, Asian, and Hispanic kids too. I know I didn’t see any real prejudice. At least I wasn’t like that. I glanced at the woman standing in front of me. No, I wasn’t like that at all. I could see Clara, now. She’d do her crazy, ‘I told you so’ dance if she knew the thoughts going through my mind about this woman. I’d have to keep this to myself for the time being.
“Jamilya, don’t forget Tionne will be here in a few minutes,” her sister called after us.
I watched her turn, the ponytail in the back of her hair flipping with her. “For what?”
“She is taking the pics for the new men’s ad for the FB account and Insta… I told you this, just this morning.” Niya sighed. “You are always so distracted; you need an assistant.”
“That’s what I have you for, Sis.”
I turned back to look at the beauty standing before me. She looked at me apologetically, but her expression of determination and professionalism never faltered. I could use her on my team.
Whoa, where did that idea come from?
I had all the help I needed right now. She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen, nodding at her sister.
“Oh, okay, I see her here on the calendar. Keep her out here, until I can finish up with this meeting, though,” she said, glancing at me briefly, not quite making eye contact.
That wouldn’t do. I needed this woman to look at me as much as possible. I wanted her attention. I would earn it.
“Do you need to reschedule this...interview?” I asked low enough for her to hear.
I watched as she physically shuddered at my closeness.
So, maybe I do have an effect on her.
She looked up at me then, her eyes wide and clear, brown and enticing, doe-like.
“No, of course not. We can just…step back here and talk for a little bit…” Her words came out breathless. I could see her chest rise and fall. I couldn’t help but look at that deep V of cleavage once more before I looked back up into her eyes.
“Are you sure, Miss Hawkins? It sounds like you have a meeting already scheduled.” I gave her an out but hoped she wouldn’t take it.
“I have a meeting right now, with you,” she said, her voice a whisper.
I grinned at her. This little back and forth was turning me on even more, and I didn’t know why.
“Tionne may wonder why you are keeping her waiting.”
“Tionne can wait. After you, Mr…Santa.” She moved out of the way and let me enter the room before her.
I chuckled and did as she ordered.
I looked around the space. These rooms were attached to every store in the mall to allow inventory to come through the back entrances. This particular room was neatly organized, from shelves to racks. Bras hung according to color, as well as a few lace see-through numbers, I’m sure Miss Hawkins wouldn’t look bad in, at all. As she was pulling out seats for us, I sized her up from behind from her ass to her long legs that wouldn’t quit, and the front looked just as good as the back. Curvy and plump with something to grab on to, just how I like it. I was not the skin-and-bones type of man.
“Mister…” her words grabbed my attention, and I realized I’d been caught checking out her assets and daydreaming about just what I’d do if given a chance.
My gaze shot up, and she raised a brow at me. “I’m sorry.”
What else could I say; I’d been caught.
“Mm-hmm.” She pursed her lips and sat in her seat, indicating for me to sit across from her in the other folding chair.
Oh, you’re a sassy one, I like that, Miss Hawkins.
“I didn’t catch your name,” she said.
Okay, I thought she looked familiar, but she didn’t seem to know me, so maybe I was off base on this one. I didn’t know her…or did I?
And, I hadn’t thrown my name for her to catch. I didn’t want to say who I really was. Surely she heard of me by now since we owned the space. I didn’t want to scare her off from this idea of me playing Santa. If it helped the store, and her, I’d do it in my spare time.
“I’m…um Nick,” I said, holding out my hand for a shake. It wasn’t completely a lie. Nicholas was my middle name. And, her sister had called me Mr. Kringle. It worked.
“Nick?” she asked, raising a questionable brow. There was no way in the world she believed this lie. “Do you have a last name, Nick?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Damn it.
I shouldn’t lie. She probably wouldn’t appreciate finding out the truth. There is no doubt she would find out once this was all said and done.
Janiya stuck her head in the door before I could answer or lie through my face hole.
Thank God, saved by the meddling sister once more.
“Don’t mind me, just grabbing a few items to set up the new displays.” She winked at me and grabbed the racks of bras and lacey things I’d been eyeing.
“Any man would appreciate unwrapping his lady wearing that on Christmas Eve. I know I sure would.” It totally slipped out before I could catch myself.
“Well, oh my. Wouldn’t he, though?” Janiya purred. “We are going to sell the hell out of these with your help. Make sure you say that to all these women. They will fly off the rack. I knew you were a good hire,” she said with a little bounce in her step.
“Niya,” Jamilya warned.
Clearly, Janiya was the more feisty of the two, but I could see the flash of lust in the older sister’s eyes when I’d mentioned unwrapping that gift. I wouldn’t mind trying it out on her.
“What? These women will trip over themselves to get all this sexiness if he is the one suggesting it. Hell, I’m about to buy one, and I work here. Hire this man, so we can get this show on the road. Tionne is here this afternoon for the photoshoot. We can have her take the shots with him for our ads. It’s perfect.” Janiya waved a dismissive hand at her sister.
I glanced at Jamilya, who had a hand to her face.
“I am so sorry for my sister. She gets an idea in her head, and she is just off to the races with it.
“You don’t have to apologize,” I said at the same time, Niya said, “Don’t be apologizing for me.”
“Yes, I need to because Nick is a candidate for a job here, and you are being unprofe
ssional.
“Nick?” Nya asked, glancing at me.
Oh, damn. Does she know who I really am? I hope she wouldn’t blow my cover.
“Yes, Nick…” Jamilya waved her hand in the air, still waiting for my last name.
“Oh, Nick Walsh, right? You are the one that left a message on the store phone last night. I got it this morning when we came in.” Janiya narrowed her eyes at me.
The girl had to know who I am, and she was covering for me for some reason. Jamilya looked at her sister like she’d grown two heads.
I nodded slowly, not knowing where Niya was going with this, but I sure did appreciate the help.
“I forgot all about you saying you’d be in today to interview,” she continued. “I vote we hire him. He has the right vibe, and he’d look amazing in the men’s line that just came in.”
“There is a men’s line?” I asked. “Maybe I wouldn’t be the only one doing the ‘unwrapping’.” I looked at Jamilya. She quickly looked away from me.
Play coy all you want, beautiful. Your eyes deceive you. I see the need there. Let me find out...
“Yes, right in time for the holidays; we have sleep pants, boxers, boxer briefs, tanks; if you are feeling really kinky we have men’s thongs.” Janiya wiggled her brows. “A lady doesn’t just have to buy sexy items for themselves; they can treat their man too—makes for one hot Christmas Eve; If you’re picking up what I’m throwing down,” she explained with a hand on hip as I laughed.
“And, you want me to wear this in the store, while dressed up as Santa?” I clarified.
“Yes, #SexySanta.” She nodded with a grin.
“I’m doing a photoshoot too?” I looked at Jamilya.
“That is the plan. Our cousin is a photographer. She is doing some shots of the new line for the website and social media presence. I think it would do wonders for our customers to see the items being modeled. It will drive the ladies right in. They can also pay to take a picture with you and #SexySanta on their social media outlets. The money will be donated to Toys for Tots for the kids for Christmas,” Jamilya explained, her tone husky as she looked me in the eye, finally.
All I Want for Christmas Page 5