Romancing the Holidays: Twelve Christmas Romances - Benefits Breast Cancer Research

by Crista McHugh

  “Hey, wise guy. I’m getting real tired of your attitude. I’m thinking that your girlfriend is, too, and that she’d rather be with me. What do you think about that?” he said to Claire. “Want to do it with me in the backseat of your BMW?”

  RJ dropped his shoulder and charged the Santa full bore, knocking him flat out on his back into the deep snow. For a moment, Claire thought they were victorious in succeeding to take down the crook, with RJ holding him down with his hands around his neck and looking like he intended to strangle him. Until Bad Santa proved he had the upper hand, once again. The handgun emerged from the snow in his steady, fat hand.

  “Look out!” she called out a warning.

  Chapter 7

  “Get – off.” Bad Santa pressed the nose of the handgun into the side of RJ’s neck.

  Very carefully, RJ stood, doing his best to control his anger. He was forced, by gunpoint, to help the Santa to his feet, snow clinging to their clothes.

  Breathing hard, and trying to regain his authority, Bad Santa repositioned the bulging gym bag on his shoulder. He kept a careful distance from the taller man with more muscle.

  The beating in the sky grew closer. Their captor sent a nervous glance toward the tall trees above them on the hillside.

  “Hurry it up.” He pointed his gun at them. “Keep moving and no talking.”

  They proceeded on, their boots making noise as they broke through the frozen snow, the Bad Santa breathing heavy behind them. Alongside the road, and deep into the pine forest, branches were breaking under the burden of the snow. The first time a branch snapped off, they all jumped.

  Their captor’s nervousness increased to the point where he was moving faster than Claire and RJ and kept having to slow down to keep them in front of him with his gun trained on them.

  They came around a corner where a cabin sat nestled against the trees with smoke curling from its chimney and a Christmas wreath with a red bow on the door.

  Further down the road, the parking lot was now in view. Claire had been hoping to see a sheriff’s vehicle still in the parking lot. If there was one, it was unrecognizable, covered in snow like all the other vehicles in the lot. Hers included, looking so buried, that any hope she had of getting her keys from the Bad Santa, so that she and RJ could escape, took a nose dive. She swallowed her disappointment.

  A motorhome pulled slowly into the parking lot.

  “Perfect timing,” Bad Santa said.

  With RJ so quiet beside her on this last leg to the parking lot, she was half afraid that he was plotting to tackle the Santa, again, risking being shot. Now his attention was on the motorhome. And after a moment, she knew why. She could hear the faint sound of dogs barking and it was coming from the newly arrived vehicle.

  They walked around the barricade where tall pine trees stood to each side. The snow was so deep around the perimeter of the trees, and their overhang of branches, that wells had formed around the base of the trees. They waited at the barricade as the motorhome pulled up alongside of them.

  A woman with a knit hat pulled over her dark hair sat in the driver’s seat. She slid open the window. “Hurry it up!”

  “Cool your jets!” Bad Santa said. He turned to Claire and RJ. “Now when we drive out of here, I’m gonna have my gun on you two. So, if you start calling for help, I’m gonna shoot you. You got that?”

  “Yes,” Claire said, putting her hand on RJ’s arm to caution him from any acts of bravery that could get him hurt.

  “Where’s your car?” Bad Santa said.

  “It’s the white one.”

  Bad Santa looked around the parking lot of snow-buried vehicles, then slowly turned back to her with a dark look. “Now you’re the wise guy.” The gun was now trained directly at her. “Which car?” he demanded.

  She pointed. “It’s one of those mounds of snow over there by the shed.”

  Her would-be BMW thief growled low, realizing that he wasn’t getting her BMW uncovered anytime soon.

  “Guess I’m riding with you,” he said to the motorhome driver. “God-damn-it,” he added. “That motorhome smells like dog piss.”

  “Is my dog in there?” RJ said.

  “Hell, I don’t know! She may have sold him.”

  “Rosco!” RJ called out. A chorus of barking dogs broke out.

  “Oh, Jesus!” Bad Santa rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Don’t start the dog reunion on me. Chances are he’s off to a better home by now, and I’m a few hundred dollars richer. Get over it.”

  RJ took a few steps towards the motorhome. “Do you have my dog?” he demanded.

  The woman in the driver’s seat tried to close the window, all while glaring at RJ. She almost had the window closed when RJ leaped forward and shouted into the motorhome.

  “Rosco!”

  The weighted-down gym bag swung wide and hit RJ across the shoulders. “Get away from there!” Bad Santa was flushed an angry red and beginning to look like he was no longer in control.

  A loud and insistent barking began inside the motorhome.

  “That’s Rosco,” RJ said to Claire.

  “Let us have his dog, then just go,” she said to the Bad Santa. “We won’t call for help. We promise. Besides, you have our cell phones and car keys.

  There came another snap of a breaking branch from the tree line. Suddenly there was a blur of movement. A dark-haired man in a ski jacket charged out from behind a tree. The Bad Santa was caught off guard as he was tackled from the side.

  Staggering backwards with the heavy gym bag acting as an anchor, Bad Santa fell into a tree well with his attacker on top of him.

  “He has a gun!” Claire tried to warm the other man.

  RJ spun around, and after his initial surprise, immediately dove in to assist. The struggle that ensued dumped snow from the branches above to completely cover the three men below.

  A helicopter suddenly appeared over the top of trees, sending snow whirling up from the ground as its blades beat the air.

  Claire shielded her face as flying snow stung at her exposed skin.

  The helicopter began to set down, blocking the exit. Two armed men jumped from the helicopter just as several more ran from the trees.

  The door to the motorhome flew open and the woman leaped out and ran through the deep snow between the parked cars.

  Someone grabbed Claire and pulled her to safety behind a snow-covered vehicle.

  The helicopter’s rotors slowing came to a stop and the flying snow began to settle.

  A swarm of armed law enforcement officers, wearing black and dark-green winter jackets and snow pants, converged under the branches of the pine tree.

  One by one, three men were pulled out from the depths of the snow well.

  She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until RJ’s familiar broad shoulders appeared, and, also, the dark-haired man she recognized as Earl.

  Completely covered in snow, and looking like a badly dressed snowman, Bad Santa was pulled out last, not looking so well with a red lump swelling over one eye and a bloody lip.

  Claire rushed to throw her arms around RJ. She buried her face in his ski jacket and he held her close, kissing the top of her head. “It’s over,” he said. He then pulled her gently away from him. “I need to go get Rosco.”

  “Go.” She smiled up at him.

  RJ spoke to one of the sheriff’s telling him that his dog was in the motorhome and likely several other stolen dogs. Two sheriff deputies accompanied RJ to the motorhome.

  Claire watched from where she stood near the barricade. The moment that RJ stepped into the motorhome, a dog began to howl and bark in joyful anticipation. Tears blurred her eyes and she couldn’t help the big smile that split across her face, she was so happy for dog and owner. The barking of many other dogs and puppies joined in.

  Judy came running down the snow-covered road from the hill above. Her ski jacket was open and her hair flying about her shoulders. She threw her arms around Earl.

  “I ca
lled 911 but they said that someone had already called it in.”

  RJ came walking around the nose of the motorhome, carrying a tan and white bulldog, not quite full grown. The happy dog owner grinned from ear to ear as Rosco kept trying to lick his chin. The dog’s body quivered with joy.

  Claire walked over to meet RJ, who was looking like a young boy on Christmas morning, getting the best gift, he could ever have imagined.

  She scratched Rosco’s fat head between his ears. He panted his happiness.

  More dogs and puppies were being carried from the motorhome to a sheriff’s vehicle that had pulled up behind the motorhome.

  They watched as another sheriff’s vehicle left the parking lot with the apprehended Santa and Misses in the back seat.

  One of the deputies walked up to RJ. “We’ll get these dogs back to their owners. How did you know that your dog was here?”

  While RJ explained how he’d recognized the van, and set out in pursuit, another deputy walked over holding up the gym bag. They gave the deputy enough details of the contents, to identify their stolen property of cellphones, wallets, and car keys, and have the bag returned to them.

  Earl and Judy came over to pet Rosco, giving RJ and Claire a chance to thank them both.

  “Why don’t you and your girlfriend come by later for a hot drink?” Judy said.

  Before Claire could correct their relationship status, RJ replied, “Sure, we’d like that.”

  When they were finally alone, she impulsively put her arms around both RJ and Rosco. “I’m so relieved that you’re both okay.” Her impulse went even further. But this time when she reached up on tiptoe to kiss RJ, it was no accident that her lips found his. She couldn’t help herself.

  His lips were firm and soft, like she’d remembered, and they held an electric current that kept her there, kissing him as the wind sent snow swirls around them, enveloping her in an intimate world with RJ that she didn’t want to leave.

  It was Rosco liking the bottom of her chin that brought her back to reality.

  Claire pulled away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I keep crossing the line.”

  RJ just stared down at her. She wished she could read his mind. He was probably thinking that he had to be kind with her feelings. Ugh! He’d gently pushed her away last night. Why couldn’t she accept that?

  Why couldn’t she time these impulses better?

  Her car was buried, so no escape there. Now she was condemned to walking back to the cabin with him, in an uncomfortable silence.

  Time to get that long march started.

  RJ fell into step beside her. His next words made her stumble. “Brandy and I broke up.”

  Chapter 8

  Asking for more detail would have to wait. Judy and Earl had joined them for the hike back up the road to their cabins.

  Her mind whirled and her heart hammered away as possibilities fought for a headliner in her mind. Was he telling her this because he felt the same? Was there a chance for her and RJ?

  Whoa! She had to stop where her mind and heart were going.

  RJ had simply announced his breakup. Something a friend would share with a friend. He hadn’t said anything about wanting to date her.

  They’d reached Earl and Judy’s cabin and waved goodbye.

  The walk to RJ’s cabin was a quiet one with the two of them sending each other polite smiles. Why was she suddenly feeling awkward around him? Like they were strangers.

  They stopped once for Rosco to use the closest pine tree.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

  “It’s my mom. I’d better take this while I have a signal.”

  “Oh, thank, God! Claire, honey,” her mother exclaimed as soon as Claire said ‘Hello’. “I was so worried when that man answered your phone and said he was the Bad Santa. That’s why I called the Sheriff’s Department. I gave them your cell phone number and they said they might be able to track you.”

  “You did great, Mom. The Bad Santa is in custody.” Claire smiled at RJ who had stopped to wait while she spoke to her mom.

  “What happened? How did you end up with him?”

  “It’s a long story. I promise to tell you everything as soon as I get home,” Claire said.

  “Honey, if you want to spend Christmas somewhere else, we understand. We love you, Sweetheart. We’re just glad that you’re safe.” The shake in her mom’s voice was audible. Her mom took a deep breath. “Dear, there’s something that you need to know.”

  “What?”

  “I’m afraid that it’s bad news.”

  What news could be bad after the experience they’d just had? Then the worst thought occurred to her. She’d taken the wrong time to stage a rebellion by removing herself from family during the holidays, and now, something had happened to a family member. She braced herself, and on shaking knees, took a few steps away from RJ for privacy.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Well, dear, you don’t have a boyfriend any longer. He’s been trying to call you, but he finally just left me a long voice message. He broke up with you, sweetie. I’m so sorry. He said that he met a swimsuit model. They were catching a plane to a resort in the Bahamas.” Her mother sounded put out. “It would have been nice for him to tell us before I had your father hang fifty-three dollars-worth of mistletoe all over this damn house.”

  Claire couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “Did you just say that Brian broke up with me!”

  “Don’t take it too hard, dear. There are other fish out there. What you need to do is go for the big tuna.”

  Aside from the little burn that comes from being dumped, relief immediately followed, along with an odd feeling.

  “He didn’t by chance mention this model’s name, did he?”

  “I’d have to listen to the message, again, but I think her name began with the letter B. It’s on the tip of my tongue. It will come to me later. He said that he met her playing volleyball. Maybe you know her, since you and Brian were on the same team.”

  She looked over at RJ. To any observer, he wasn’t looking crushed from a break up. In fact, he looked as light-hearted as anyone could be. Then, again, he did have his Rosco back.

  The humor of the situation began to take over.

  “So, my boyfriend dumped me for his girlfriend,” she mussed aloud.

  “Who? What?” her mother said. “Are you talking to me or someone else?”

  “Myself.”

  “Tell your mom, Merry Christmas,” RJ called over to her.

  “Who was that?” her mom asked.

  Claire hesitated before saying, “That was RJ.”

  “RJ, as in that nice-looking friend of yours that you introduced me to at the grocery store?”

  “Yes. That one.”

  It took her mom only a second to say what Claire was expecting next. “What are you doing with him when you didn’t know, yet, that your boyfriend had broken up with you?”

  “I’m not doing anything with him, Mom.” She said this as she tried to push the memory of her attempt to start something out of her head. “It just happens to be his cabin that I’m staying at. He let me use it because he and his girlfriend Brandy weren’t going to use it.”

  “Brandy! That’s it! That’s the name of Brian’s new girlfriend.” Her mother paused. “RJ’s girlfriend’s name is Brandy, as well?”

  “Ex-girlfriend. And it’s the same Brandy, the swimsuit model. I introduced Brian to her at a volleyball game…” Her voice trailed off as something began to nag her at the back of her mind.

  Her mind-reading mother was coming to the same conclusion. “How is it that you didn’t notice that your significant other was making eyes at a woman across the volleyball net?”

  “Because I was too busy trying not to get a volleyball spiked at my face.”

  “Or, maybe you were too busy making eyes at RJ.”

  “Mom!”

  “Just saying, dear. Anyway, it’s not like you’re left with no on
e. You’re at a cabin with a handsome man. Sounds to me like something’s going on.”

  “He’s here because of the snow storm. He was chasing the Bad Santa and needed a place to stay. Besides, like I said, this is his cabin.”

  “Well, I’m just glad that you’re taking this break up well, honey. I love you. We’ll see you soon.”

  Claire slipped her cellphone into her pocket. Here she was, suddenly unattached, although the news delivery was thirdhand, she still took it as official. She took a few minutes getting her bearings as an available woman. And in those few minutes, she wondered, had RJ known that Brandy and Brian were hot for each other and soon to be an item?

  Last night when she’d made that pass at RJ, he’d backed away. She’d assumed it was because of boundary lines, because, to her knowledge, at the time, they were both involved with other people. She knew otherwise, now. Last night, they were both available people, even if she didn’t know it.

  That meant that RJ had turned her down on the bearskin rug, either because he still had feelings for Brandy, or he just wasn’t interested in Claire.

  That last one burned, and she felt the fool. RJ should have told her what he knew.

  A few more feet and they’d be inside the cozy cabin. A light snowfall began.

  RJ stomped his boots off on the top step. “Are you coming?” he said.

  Yes, she was, and he was going to get an earful. “My mom had some interesting news.”

  “Oh, yeah? What was that?”

  She stomped up to the top step and planted her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you tell me, first, where is Brandy for Christmas?”

  His handsome face wore a look of confusion.

  “Hey, you two!”

  They turned to see Earl and Judy waving from the road. “Ready for that hot toddy?” Earl carried a thermos and Judy a plate of cinnamon rolls covered in plastic wrap.

  “Sure,” RJ called to them. “Come on in.”

  As Earl and Judy stepped carefully into the boot tracks leading to the front porch, RJ continued their conversation low enough for only the two of them to hear. “Why does it matter where she is?”