“Then why do you sing about her?”
He lifted one shoulder up and down.
How could he explain that he hadn’t had any serious relationships since then? She’d think he was pathetic—hung up on the memory of his ex for years. Keeping things light and easy with the ladies was better than getting his heart broken. He figured she’d see that as a bad thing too, calling him a player, which he was. But somehow with Samantha he didn’t want to be like that. He wanted to live up to her Prince Charming dreams. Maybe she could tell him how to fix it, the way she told him how to get closer to her in the first place.
Samantha shook her head in disgust.
“Is there anything I can do to fix tonight?” he asked. “Anything Prince Charming might do?”
“Why? So you can get me into bed?”
Yes!
The fire burning in her eyes made him hold his tongue. It wasn’t happening tonight.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”
She grabbed her purse and coat and left. He followed her out and practically had to run to keep up with her.
He opened the truck door for her and couldn’t help checking her out as she climbed in. He wanted her so bad he could taste it. Man, he’d really screwed up tonight. He should’ve insisted on meeting her mother on their first date. Then he would’ve known she was Mexican. Or he should’ve listened when his mother went on and on about the wonderful Dixon family and their perfect daughter Samantha. He hadn’t thought it would matter back then. Now it did. A lot.
He had to write some songs not about Jamie and fast. Maybe something about the beautiful Samantha. He started the truck.
“And don’t try any more of that Prince Charming stuff when we both know who you really are,” she said in a choked voice.
“Samantha—”
“Just…don’t.”
He shut up. He knew he wasn’t a prince, but damn if he didn’t want to be for her.
~ ~ ~
That night, after he dropped off Samantha, Rico did something he’d never done before—he called his oldest sister, Maria, for woman advice. She was like a second mother, only much more in touch with the younger generation than his own mother.
“Hey, Maria,” he said when she answered. “It’s me.”
“What’s wrong?” Her concern made it easier for him to spill his guts. She always could read his moods.
The sad truth was he knew how to seduce a woman, but he had no clue what to do outside of the bedroom. His time with Jamie had been filled with her going to his varsity baseball games, his garage band rehearsals, his job at the mall. It struck him for the first time that Jamie had fit into his life with absolutely no effort on his part. No wonder he was clueless.
“I need some woman advice,” he admitted.
“Ricky!” Maria exclaimed. “You finally met a special someone. Who’s the lucky woman?”
He ground his teeth. He’d told everyone to call him Rico not Ricky way back when he was twelve. His sisters just loved to make him feel like the little baby bro. He was thirty-three, for crying out loud.
“Samantha,” he said. The name rolled off his tongue. It was a beautiful name.
“Samantha. Now why does that name sound familiar?”
Probably because Samantha was all his mother could talk about for the rest of Thanksgiving. But he didn’t want her putting two and two together and bringing their mother into his love life. Again.
“Don’t know,” he said. “So I found out she’s really into, you know, romance.” He searched for the right words. What had Samantha said when she was confessing her dreams to him? “A sweet romance like in the movies.”
“And you have no clue.”
“I have a clue. Just not the right one.” He told her about the flowers and the ice-skating date that ended badly with the unfortunate miscommunication during his serenade.
“Wait a minute. Samantha was the one Mom set you up with. Of course she speaks Spanish, you moron!” He pulled the phone away from his ear at her volume. “Do you really think Mom’s gonna set you up with someone that doesn’t know how to speak Spanish to her grandbabies?”
That again? He wasn’t looking to reproduce. He rubbed the back of his neck. He just wanted to look more like a prince in Samantha’s eyes. Something about her made him want to try a little harder.
“So what do I do?” he asked.
“She wants a romance like in the movies, then you should watch some romantic movies.”
“That’s it? Just watch some movies?”
“Watch and learn, Ricky.”
“Which ones?”
“Oh, there’s so many. Did she say which movies are her favorites?”
His shoulders slumped. “No.”
“All right. Start with Pretty Woman. Ooh, When Harry Met Sally is so good too and Sleepless in Seattle. That’s a good start.”
He grabbed a pen and scribbled the titles down on the back of a take-out menu. “Okay, thanks. I’ll see if I can find them.”
“Try streaming them or look on demand. They’re mostly older movies. You should be able to get them. Call me if you have any questions.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I won’t have any questions.”
“This is deep stuff. Give it some thought after you watch, okay?”
“All right, thanks.”
“Good luck.”
He hung up and found Pretty Woman on demand. He was fifteen minutes in and scratching his head. Was his sister crazy? This woman was a prostitute. How was this supposed to help him with Samantha?
His cell rang, and he grabbed it. “Rico.”
“So you need love advice and you call Maria instead of me.” It was his other sister, Elena.
“Uh…” He hit pause on the movie.
“You know she’s been with Steve since high school. She knows nothing. I have experience.”
“Okay, Miss Experience. Maria told me to watch Pretty Woman, but this woman—”
“Figures. She told you all old movies, didn’t she? Let me tell you what the modern woman wants.”
Elena was only two years younger than Maria, but Elena always had a chip on her shoulder about who knew more about the important things in life.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“Try watching Juno, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days…are you writing this down?”
He grabbed a pen and scribbled quickly around the margins of the take-out menu. “Yeah. Wait. Lose a guy?”
“Trust me.”
“If you say so.” Women were a complete mystery, but he trusted her, so he went with it.
“Say Anything, that’s the name of the movie,” Elena went on. “It’s old but a classic. Lady and the Tramp.”
“Isn’t that a cartoon?”
“Then you should be able to understand it.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry, little bro, but when it comes to women, you’re still a beginner. I hope this woman helps you mature.”
“I am mature!”
“Good luck, buddy.”
She hung up, and he went back to Pretty Woman. He remained puzzled until the end when the guy climbed her fire escape, bearing roses and overcoming his fear of heights. That he could understand. It was like Romeo and Juliet plus bravery. He wrote that little gem down: climb fire escape with roses. He didn’t have a fear of heights, but he could pretend.
He watched Juno next and wrote: fill mailbox with orange Tic Tacs.
By Sunday night, he’d watched all the recommended movies. From what he could tell, romance was like putting on a show. A performance in honor of the woman. And, it seemed, once you won them over, everything was golden.
He felt fully prepared to win Samantha over.
~ ~ ~
Samantha took her usual lunch break on Monday with a stop at the mailbox. She wondered if they’d start getting Christmas cards soon. It was only the first week of December, but there were always some early birds that whipped them out the day a
fter Thanksgiving. She was still designing one for her family. Maybe she’d do a collage with the four seasons. She pulled open the mailbox, and an avalanche of orange Tic Tacs spilled out. “Ah!”
She jumped back in surprise. What the hell? How many little plastic boxes did it take to fill that mailbox? Who would do that? Was some teenager playing pranks in the neighborhood? She stared at the Tic Tacs all over what remained of the snow on the ground. She shook some off her boots and peeked into the mailbox. Was there any mail under there? There was a white envelope.
She pulled it out. No stamp. No return address. This was getting a little creepy. She looked up and down the street for any strange cars hovering nearby. Nothing out of the usual. Slowly, she opened the envelope and read the scrawled note.
Samantha,
Third time’s the charm. Dinner Wednesday night? I’ll pick you up at seven. Call me if you DON’T want to go. Sorry about that song. I’m working on a new one just for you.
Rico
Samantha stared at the note. He was writing a song just for her? No one had ever written her a song.
Still, she wasn’t so sure a third date was a good idea. The other two had ended very badly. And nothing had changed, really. He was still a player.
She shook her head at the Tic Tac mess. She didn’t even like orange Tic Tacs. She liked the white ones.
It was weird, she thought as she went inside for a bag to clean up the mess, but she had to give him points for originality.
Chapter Six
A dozen roses tucked inside his leather jacket, Rico hauled a ladder to the back of Samantha’s house on Wednesday night. He was going to Pretty Woman her. She’d called and told him not to stop by, but had that stopped Romeo from visiting his Juliet? No, it had not. If there was one thing he’d learned from all those movies, it was that the guy didn’t give up that easy.
Her parents didn’t have a fire escape, but he thought the ladder should accomplish the same thing. He wasn’t sure which bedroom was Samantha’s. He saw a light on in one room and a shadow of someone moving around in there. Good enough.
Luckily most of the snow had melted from the couple of inches they’d gotten two days ago. He propped the ladder up, made sure it was stable, and began to climb. He wasn’t afraid of heights like that guy in the movie, but maybe he could pretend he was to make it even more meaningful. He made it to the top and pulled the roses from his jacket.
Tap, tap, tap. He waited patiently for Samantha to answer his signal. He tapped again. The window shade flew up, and a petite Mexican woman appeared, took one look at him, and screamed bloody murder.
He startled and nearly lost his balance as the ladder wobbled. His heart raced. If he fell off this ladder, he’d likely end up in the hospital with multiple broken bones. The ladder steadied, and he tried to get her to stop screaming.
“It’s Rico,” he called through the window. “You know my mother.”
She narrowed her eyes and slowly reached for something.
“It’s Rico! Mi madre es su amiga.”
She got closer. Mierda. She had a wooden bat and looked like she was fully prepared to use it.
He tried again, yelling through the glass. “Mi madre—”
She pulled up the sash just a crack.
“Don’t hurt me,” he said. “It’s Rico. You know my mother. Mi madre—”
“Rico del Toro?” she asked.
He blew out a breath of relief as the bat lowered. “Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m being romantic. I thought this was Samantha’s room.”
A big grin split her face. “Don’t go nowhere, Rico del Toro.”
“Uh, okay.” This was not going like in the movies.
A few minutes later, Samantha appeared with her mother at her side. His heart did a weird stutter.
“See?” her mother said, pointing at him. “Romantic.”
Samantha rushed to the window. “What are you doing here? I told you not to come.”
“Sam!” her mother chided.
“I’m overcoming my fear of heights to give you roses.” He gestured for her to open the window more, and he slid them in.
Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “You didn’t have to overcome your fear of heights for me.”
Her mother tsked. “What do you say to the nice young man?”
“Thank you,” Samantha said. Her brows furrowed, and she just kept staring at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was.
“Come in through the front door,” her mother said. “We’ve been wanting to meet you.”
He nodded. Mission accomplished. He made his way down the ladder, glad he was getting the hang of this whole romance thing.
~ ~ ~
Samantha put the roses in a vase, musing over the fact that he’d given her roses twice now. It was so weird the way he showed up here tonight even after she left a message on his voice mail politely declining the dinner invitation. Had her mother put him up to this?
She peeked out the front window as he put the ladder in the back of his truck. They’d never even talked about his fear of heights before. It was kinda cool that he conquered his fear just to give her flowers.
He strutted up the front walk. The man did have confidence. She opened the door before he could knock.
He flashed a charming smile, and she felt an answering flutter low in her belly. The man was just too good at what he did—all those seductive smiles and deep gazes. When she made no move to invite him inside, merely stared at him, he spoke up.
“Your mother wanted to meet me.”
“Oh, yeah. Come in.” She turned and called toward the kitchen. “Ma-aa-aa, come meet Rico.”
Her mother hurried to the foyer and immediately embraced him. She pulled back and smiled. “I’m Terisa Medina Dixon. You may call me Terisa.”
Samantha’s jaw dropped, and she stared at her mother. She always insisted on being called Mrs. Dixon as a sign of respect. What was it about Rico that she already had him on such familiar terms? Did she still think she’d arranged a marriage? Please.
Rico’s smile lit up his face. He was absurdly handsome with his perfect white teeth and warm brown eyes that sorta sparkled. “Nice to meet you, Terisa. I’m Rico.”
Her mother giggled. Giggled! Her mother never giggled. “Yes, yes, I know. Come meet my husband.”
Rico followed her mother to the family room, where her father was watching the news.
“Lee!” her mother said sharply.
Her father jolted to attention and turned. “Oh, hey!” He stood and crossed the room to give Rico a hearty handshake. “You must be Rico. You’re all I hear about around here.”
Samantha’s cheeks burned. It wasn’t her doing all the talking about Rico.
“All good, I hope,” Rico said, glancing at Samantha and giving her another gorgeous smile.
Her father slapped him on the back. “Of course, you’re the chosen one.”
“Da-aa-aad! Please.” She turned to Rico. “This is my father, Lee.”
Rico nodded. “Very nice to meet you, sir.”
“Such nice manners,” her mother crooned. “Have fun, you two!”
Samantha grabbed Rico’s hand and pulled him out of the room. Her parents were so embarrassing. “Bye!”
“Boy, you’re in a hurry to get me alone,” Rico said.
She shook her head. “Why exactly are you here?”
“I’m here for you,” he said simply.
“Rico, I appreciate the flowers, I really do, but if this is some weird thing between our mothers, don’t worry about it. You’ve done your part. You’re off the hook. Go find your next conquest.”
He took her hand. His rough palm on hers sent tingles straight up her arm. “I’m not looking for a conquest. If you’ll just give me another chance, I’ll prove it.”
“Why?”
“Because you make me want to try harder. I want to be a prince for you.”
Samantha felt herself weakening. That
was really sweet. And he looked so sincere.
He kissed the back of her hand. “Please.”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
He held her hand as they continued outside while Samantha marveled that she was actually going on a third date with Rico. She kept sneaking glances at him, still having trouble getting used to this new romantic side of him. She hadn’t told him to do any of that stuff when she confessed her heartache to Santa that day. This must be what he was really like when he cared about a woman.
He opened the passenger-side door for her, waited for her to get in, and shut it. She glanced at the center console and saw a small spindly fern sitting in the cup holder.
He got in and picked up the plant. “This is for you. It’s a love fern.”
She stared at it. “A what?”
“You know, a love fern. It symbolizes the relationship.”
“The relationship,” she echoed. “Do we have a relationship?”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She warmed at the spot.
“It’s symbolic,” he said.
She stared at it, puzzled. First flowers, then a fern. “Uh, thank you.”
“I’m taking you to a place with great fresh-made noodles. You like Chinese noodles?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, then.” He drove off, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time to “Merry Christmas, Baby” by Bruce Springsteen.
Samantha relaxed into the seat, occasionally glancing at Rico and then at the fern. It was odd, but in a way beautiful. She felt herself softening toward him. It wasn’t his fault they met through their crazy mothers. Maybe she’d been all wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t a player after all. Maybe he was just nervous the first couple of times she saw him, and now he was being himself. It was nice to be with a man that was honest after that two-faced liar Tim.
They arrived at the restaurant, and Rico helped her off with her coat. His warm hands brushed her shoulders, and she got a hot shiver. “You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured near her ear.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He pulled out her chair for her. She was starting to get used to the gentlemanly manners. She could count on one hand the number of guys who’d ever bothered to do anything chivalrous like open her door or pull out her chair.
Kissing Santa, A Clover Park Novella (Clover Park, Book 4) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) Page 5