Santa Baby Maybe (Kane Christmas Book 2)

by S Doyle

  The house was much like Joy. Filled with color and warmth. Oversized, comfortable furniture in the living room. An old-fashioned dining room table and hutch in the room to my left. There was an arched doorway leading to what I imagined was the kitchen. Now that she was safely settled, I moved in that direction.

  “Where do you keep your pain medication?” I called to her even as I stepped into the kitchen, which was clean and neat except for a coffee mug sitting in the sink. But then I heard it. The low growling.

  Crouched in a small ball by a door that led the backyard, Jake growled at me with the ferocity of a wolf.

  “You do know you’re a cat,” I explained to him. “You’re supposed to hiss and shit.”

  Jake’s sleek black head tilted to the side as if he was insulted I wasn’t more intimidated by the growling.

  “Look, here’s the deal. I’m going to be here for a while so you need to get used to me.”

  Again Jake growled, as if trying once more to remove what he perceived as threat from his vicinity.

  I didn’t move toward him and I certainly didn’t try to reach a hand out.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” I told him.

  It seemed as if the cat understood me because the growling stopped. Then he hopped up on the counter and just watched as I moved to the refrigerator. I opened the door and found it was pretty stocked. I wasn’t going to need to take a trip to the grocery store.

  “You got enough cat food?”

  Jake made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a high whimper.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Walking back through the dining room and toward the living room I called to Joy again.

  “Painkillers, Joy?”

  “I have some in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom, but I’m good for now.”

  And she looked it. She was on the couch, her coat and bag off, crutches on the floor, and her ankle on a raised pillow.

  “What about an ice pack?”

  “I have peas in the freezer.”

  “You’re hungry for peas right now?” I asked, confused. “I’ll make them if that’s what you want.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, you can use the bag of frozen peas as an ice pack.”

  “Or I can go to the drugstore and get you a legit ice pack.”

  “Peas work better. They have magical healing properties. Everyone knows it,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. She was wearing another oversized sweater that hid all she was underneath it. I had this sudden urge to pull it up and over her head so I could see for myself what she was hiding.

  “What about something to drink?”

  She seemed to hesitate. Like asking me for anything was hard. But eventually she relented. “I would really love a cup of tea. I’ve got some ginger tea in a tin in the cabinet over the sink.”

  “Peas and tea coming up.”

  “You really don’t need to do this. I’m home. I’m fine. I have crutches, and I can call and have anything I need delivered.”

  All reasonable arguments. “I’ll get the peas first, then I’ll make your tea.”

  Back in the kitchen Jake was still growling at me, but stopped when I gave him my best intimidating face. Instead he lifted and licked his back paw.

  “That’s right,” I told him. “You know who daddy is.”

  “Are you talking to Jake?” I heard Joy shout from the living room. “Is he growling at you? I meant to you tell you he’s growler, but he won’t bite you. Or he might if you try to touch him! So don’t touch him!”

  “You bite me, cat,” I said, looking him dead in the eye, “I’ll bite you back.”

  Jake stopped, mid-paw lick, looked at me with that tilted head, then went back to licking. I thought were beginning to understand each other. I grabbed the bag of peas from the freezer and strode back into the living room. I didn’t want to risk causing her pain so I let her deal with the placement of it as I headed back to make her tea.

  I wasn’t a tea purist, so I put the tea bag in a mug I found in one of her cabinets, added water, and put it in the microwave for a minute. Once it was done, I dumped the tea bag in the trash and took the mug to her, as well. This time, Jake followed me out of the kitchen.

  “Jake, come sit on Mommy’s lap,” she said upon seeing him.

  Jake jogged over to the couch and laid down beside it.

  Joy shook her head. “He’s got to be close to me but never on me. All I want to do is snuggle and kiss, but I think he thinks he’s protecting me. Like a little snuggling and kissing would somehow detract from his badassery.”

  Gently, so as not to jostle her, I sat on the couch by her hip and carefully handed her the mug. “How come you didn’t bring him into work today?”

  “I knew I was only going to be gone for a few hours. It’s long twelve-hour days when I’m apart from him that he doesn’t like.”

  She took the mug from my hands and blew on the top of it gently, which focused one hundred percent of my attention on her mouth. Plump, pouty lips that I wanted to bite more than I wanted to bite her cat.

  “So what can we do to entertain ourselves?” I asked, clapping my hands together, trying to distract myself from lips and blowing and biting. “You probably have some sappy romantic movie you want me to watch.”

  She blinked. “You want to watch a sappy romantic movie with me?”

  “No, absolutely not. It messes with my badassery. But you’re hurt, so you get to pick the form of entertainment. I figure I’m about to be subjected to something with Hugh Grant.”

  She smiled. “You really want to stay?”

  I nodded. “No one wants to be alone when they’re sick or injured, Joy. Let me stay and fuss over you. You’ll feel better and I’ll feel better after having done this to you in the first place.”

  “W.B….”

  “I told you, you could call me Dare.”

  Her lips squeezed together and she shook her head. “Nope, I’m bound and determined to find out your real name. Wadsworth Billemy?”

  I shook my head. “It’s never going to happen so you might as well let it go.”

  I stood then, figuring we couldn’t exactly cuddle on the couch together while we watched movies. Right? No, yes, of course. We weren’t cuddle buddies. We weren’t even technically friends. We were just colleagues, and every once in a while we felt the need to avoid each other.

  I hadn’t wanted to avoid her, but I’d done it in my own best interest. Was that why she’d been avoiding me? To protect herself?

  I might have asked her, but I didn’t want to ruin the mood.

  “So what’s it going to be?” I asked as I settled into a wide purple chair with an ottoman situated in front of it. Other than my bed, I didn’t have a single piece of furniture that was as comfortable as this. My leather couch was as stiff as hell.

  “Hmm. You won’t tell me your name, so I think I have to punish you more drastically than just your average rom-com movie.”

  “There’s worse?” I mused.

  “Netflix teen romance movies. I’m feeling a serious need to watch The Kissing Booth. Still want to stick it out with me?”

  I groaned, but yes, I still wanted to stick it out. With her.

  8

  That Night

  Joy

  W.B. Darling was sleeping in my house. Sure, it was the guest bedroom, but still he was breathing the same house air I was, which was strange. We’d binged Netflix movies for hours, each one getting subsequently cheesier. Then I’d told him he should sign up for the second season of Love is Blind, and when he asked me what that was, we had to watch the first two episodes.

  He’d put his foot down after that. Since it was after ten and I realized I was exhausted from the day’s events, I complied.

  That’s when he said, “You have a guest room, right?”

  Apparently, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving me alone overnight. What if I needed something in the middle of the night? What if I fell getting up to
go to the bathroom because in my sleep-induced haze I’d forgotten about my sprained ankle?

  He’d laid out so many reasons it was imperative he stay the night, I didn’t have any energy left to fight him. And the truth was, it was really pretty sweet of him. He’d been amazing the entire afternoon into night.

  He’d let me choose what kind of food we wanted for take-out. Turned out we both loved Thai food. Which seemed to startle him, that I could be both vegan and a food lover at the same time. He’d let me watch all the Netflix teen romance movies I wanted. He’d made me tea and replaced frozen pea bags when they started to melt. And he’d even gone so far as to offer to carry me to the bathroom, although I’d drawn the line at that.

  Now, lying in the dark, looking up at my ceiling, I was still struggling to understand what all this meant.

  For the last week I’d deliberately been putting some distance between us. Running into him and his date at the bar last week had shifted something inside me. It made me see that he was really serious about pursuing someone. And it was very clear the someone he was interested in pursuing wasn’t me or anyone remotely like me.

  Not that I wanted W.B.’s attention like that. Of course I didn’t.

  Or maybe I didn’t think I wanted it. But as soon as I saw the type of woman he did want, it hit me that any feelings I might have were pointless.

  Sophie had accused me of being into him and I hadn’t thought I was. Then, after last week, feeling like I did, I feared maybe I was. That’s when I’d known the prudent thing to do was to step back. Keep my distance both emotionally and physically so there wouldn’t be any chance of my getting to that point where I found myself really into him.

  Because there was no point. It would lead to disappointment and wounded feelings, and who needed that? Talk about setting myself up for rejection. I could almost see the horrified expression on his face if I asked him out on a date.

  Also, I didn’t own a pantsuit, so it’s not like I could change. Not that I would. Ever.

  The one thing I was certain about was that if I ever did find someone to love, they would love me back. All of me. My father spent a lot of years learning the hard way that I wasn’t someone who was going to be molded into something I wasn’t. Eventually, he’d relented and decided to just love me for who I was. I knew this when he’d agreed to help out with college despite knowing I was going to be an art major.

  So what if W.B. and I had had a good night? A fun night. A night where we laughed a lot. It didn’t have to mean anything.

  I needed to compartmentalize it. That was it. Put it in a box and consider it an anomaly. Tomorrow things would go back to normal.

  Decision made, I turned on my side and a small cry escaped me as my ankle jerked. I had it raised on a pillow, but I wasn’t someone who could sleep on my back. Which hadn’t been a problem so far, since I’d mostly been ruminating and not sleeping. But now I realized that, for a side sleeper, sleeping was going to be problematic.

  A soft knock on the door had me lifting myself up on my elbows. My door wasn’t totally closed because Jake needed to be able to wander in and out, checking on me and being able to hunt for his dry food and use his litter box.

  “W.B.?”

  He poked his head around the door. “I heard you cry out. You okay?”

  “You heard that from your room?”

  He shook his head and lifted a glass of water he had in his hand. “I couldn’t sleep. I was walking back to my room when I heard you. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I just turned on my side too fast and jerked it.”

  He hesitated for a second then stepped into the room. He was still dressed in what he’d worn that day, only with no shoes or socks. Barefoot, he walked across the room and set the water glass down on the bedside table.

  “I’m going to get you a couple of aspirin,” he said, walking into the bathroom that was connected to my bedroom. I wasn’t the biggest fan of pills in general, but it was probably the only way I was going to get any sleep.

  He returned with two pills that he dropped into my hand and handed me his water glass. When I was done, I leaned back on the bed and sighed.

  “That might help the pain, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep,” I admitted.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m a side sleeper. I can’t really keep it raised on the pillow right, with the rest of my body on one side.”

  “Here, move over.”

  He sank down on the bed next to me, giving me no option other than to move and make space for him. “Uh, what are you doing?”

  “One of us should get some sleep,” he whispered. “This will help.”

  He spooned me from behind, then very carefully lifted my right leg so that it laid on top of both of his. So it was raised and supported even as I was on my side.

  “W.B. you don’t have to…”

  “Shh. Just close your eyes and we’ll worry about how potentially awkward this is tomorrow.”

  “We’re sleeping in the same bed,” I whispered. I don’t know why I was whispering, as it was just the two of us in the house, but it was dark and late and felt weirdly intimate. Like the situation called for hushed voices.

  “I’m merely acting as medical equipment,” he whispered back.

  “You don’t feel like medical equipment,” I muttered. Instead, he felt really hard and incredibly warm. I was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, which were necessary for a cold night in Denver. Only now I felt totally overheated.

  I mean, this was more than sharing the same house air. This was sharing the same bed air, and it had been a long time since I’d shared the same bed air with anyone. Also, I wasn’t wearing a bra. This was me, in a bed with W.B. and no bra. The potential for a possible boob brush was astronomically high.

  My only problem was that I didn’t know if that was good news or bad news.

  Potentially awkward, he’d said. Try unbelievably awkward. I was about to tell him that there was no way this was going to work and I had no chance of sleeping with him in my room, when I felt his hand rubbing slow circles at the small of my back.

  “Stop thinking,” he whispered low in my ear. “Just close your eyes and sleep. Your body needs it to heal.”

  Oh, wow, that felt good. All the pressure was off my ankle. I was sunk into the bed, and the circles on my back felt like I was being pulled under. It was crazy, but I trusted W.B. I trusted him to keep me safe and protected in a way that felt entirely too natural.

  Incredibly, I drifted off into a painless sleep.

  “Ow! What the hell?”

  I’d been dozing in the early morning dawn, content where I was, which was still pressed up against W.B.’s chest and my ankle still suspended in the air as if he hadn’t moved all night. Opening my eyes, I glanced down at the suspected culprit. I knew what W.B.’s bellow meant.

  “Jake, no bitey Mommy’s friend!”

  “He bit my toe,” W.B. roared, outraged.

  “Was it hanging off the bed?” I asked him, craning my neck over my shoulder.

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  I winced. “Any body parts hanging off the bed in the morning are fair game. I think he thinks they are mice.”

  “He bites you often in the morning?” W.B. asked, sounding even more outraged.

  “No,” I said calmly. “I’ve learned to keep my fingers and toes on the bed.”

  It was then that Jake hopped onto the bed, circled a few times in front of me, and settled down next to me. He spared a glance at W.B. but didn’t growl at him, which I thought was excellent progress.

  “You keep a cat that bites you?”

  I shrugged and reached out to pet him. “They’re just love bites. Besides, someone has to love Jake. I found him, so he’s my responsibility. He’s fiercely protective of me and lets me know any time strangers are coming near the house. So an excellent guard cat.”

  “Guard cats are not a thing.”

  “Did
he not just protect me from the dangling toe that was hanging over the bed?”

  “I don’t think you were in any danger from my dangling toe,” W.B. insisted.

  “Yes, but Jake didn’t know that.”

  W.B. was still grumbling, but then he very carefully lifted my right leg up and off his, placing it gently back on the bed.

  “How does it feel?” he asked.

  “Fine,” I said, getting up on my elbows to look at it. “It looks like the swelling has gone down a lot.”

  He grunted his agreement, but he didn’t immediately move. “It’s early,” he sighed. “You should go back to sleep.”

  “That’s not going to happen. Once I’m up, I’m up. But I’ll get coffee started, if you want to use the bathroom.”

  He sat up. “You do your thing in the bathroom while I make coffee and bring it to you. But first I have to take a piss. I’ve had to go for the last hour.” W.B. rolled off the bed and his feet hit the floor with a thud.

  “Why didn’t you just go?” I asked him.

  “Didn’t want to wake you. You got a spare toothbrush?”

  “There should be one in the top drawer under the sink. My dentist always loads me up with extras.”

  Another grunt. I got the impression W.B. wasn’t a morning person. Still, as the door to the bathroom closed behind him, I considered what had happened. He’d stayed with me all day, slept next to me all night, making sure not to jostle my ankle. And he’d mildly tolerated the fact that Jake nibbled on his toe.

  I glanced at the clock on my nightstand and saw it was barely six a.m. I laid back on the bed and considered the logistics of getting into the office on crutches. Especially since it occurred to me that my car was still parked downtown. I shook my head. W.B. had handled everything so smoothly, it hadn’t occurred to me to question him. But it would have made more sense had we gone to get my car after the urgent care visit instead of Ubering back home.

  Except it felt like I hadn’t had time to think. He’d just swooped in and handled everything, like I was his responsibility. Including making sure I slept with my ankle raised.