Sleeping With Santa

by Debra Druzy

  “Don’t bother. I won’t use it anyway.”

  “It’s safer than using your oven.” He reached over the sink and applied gentle pressure on the corners of the brittle wood, closing it all but a few millimeters. Nailing it shut might help, but the glass may shatter in the process.

  She snapped the dial to the Off position. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  “Let me know if you go numb, I’ll get you a blanket.”

  “I have snow gear in the car.”

  “And don’t forget the Santa suit.”

  “Definitely not. Can’t forget that,” Nick sniggered, dreading having to wear it in a few weeks.

  On the topic of Christmas, her home wasn’t decorated like the rest of the neighborhood, outside or inside. Not a wreath. Or a bow. Or a piece of tinsel. Or a string of lights. Nothing. Except for the little spruce leaning in the dark corner of the living room.

  “Nice tree.”

  “It was free. One of Bob’s clients runs the lot.”

  “You gotta water it otherwise it’ll dry out.” Another potential hazard once she put lights on it.

  “I haven’t gotten around to it.” She turned up the antiquated thermostat in the hallway and the heat came on with a painful groan. “How’s your bungalow? Still coming along okay?”

  “Not really. It looks like I might be a permanent resident at the firehouse until I can fix a bunch of issues. I won’t be able to do any major work until spring.”

  “Hmm. Well…I’ve got a room for rent. It’s not much. I can show it to you if you’re interested.”

  Toes curled inside his boots and his fingers tingled with excited energy. “Actually, yeah, why not?”

  He followed her down the short hall to view the piece of real estate that—unbeknownst to her—he was in the process of buying. It didn’t take long to put two-and-two together, realizing it was her advertisement from the community bulletin board he washed with his jeans.

  “I should have rented it a while ago. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. It’s a tiny bedroom. Used to be my parents’. I’ll move out the junk to make room for you if you want it.”

  As long as the bed was big enough to stretch out in, he didn’t care about the piles of things, stacks of cardboard boxes, or the viva-la-seventies décor. “This’ll work just fine.”

  “Really? You’re serious?”

  “Absolutely.” He nodded, doing his best to forget about any ulterior motives. “Are meals included?”

  “I don’t cook—but I can make sandwiches!”

  “Well, I guess you’re in luck, because I can cook. I’ll have to teach you.”

  “I didn’t even tell you how much the rent is.”

  “Trust me, you won’t blow my budget.”

  “I guess that means you’re gonna stay the night then? I’ll just take the stuff off the bed for you—”

  “Leave it for now. I can stay on the couch.”

  “I’ll give you the grand tour.” On the way to the kitchen, they stood in the hallway and she pointed to the four doors within arm’s reach. “Bathroom. My room. Linen closet. Cellar.”

  “You’re sure you really wanna sell it?”

  Lily curled up in a wooden chair at the little round kitchen table, smoothing her palms over the faded floral tablecloth and shrugged.

  Nick sat across from her, anxious to know more.

  “It doesn’t really matter. I can’t afford to keep it. If I could, I’d never consider selling it. But it’s all for the best, I guess. With the money, I can get a decent apartment far from here. And I’ll never have to run into Britney again.”

  “Didn’t you hear—Britney’s spending the winter down south.”

  “Hallelujah.” Lily clasped her hands to heaven. “What else did she say?”

  Nick hesitated, like mentally preparing to rip off a bandage, before spitting out the rest. “Well, she talked about her brother. And mentioned something about her mother’s ring.”

  “She told you I stole it, didn’t she?” Lily scowled and shot out of the chair. Filled the teakettle with tap water and slammed it on the stovetop. While it heated, she rummaged through the kitchen drawers, smacking each one closed with a vengeance, until she pulled out a silver key and handed it to Nick without explanation; no doubt the spare to the front door.

  He slipped it into his back pocket.

  “Nobody stole anything,” she ranted, chest heaving. “As far as I know, Mark’s mother gave it to him to sell, which is just what he did. I told Britney a dozen times, I never even saw the ring. Not unless it was ever on their mother’s hand. Their parents had been divorced since Mark was in elementary school. The ring obviously didn’t matter much to him or his mom. I don’t know why it matters so much to her. At least she has her parents. I don’t have anyone. I don’t have anything—my mom hocked all her jewelry to keep up with the mortgage payments before she over extended the credit cards she opened in my name. That’s why I’m in such a financial mess.”

  When she poured steaming water into a chipped coffee mug with shaky hands, Nick got up and nudged her aside. “Let me do that.”

  “That’s why I need to get outta this town,” she murmured. “And start over somewhere else where people don’t know my business...”

  He followed Lily to the living room with two steaming cups of cocoa and sat beside her on the tattered burgundy loveseat. There was a terrible draft on this side of the house blowing on his ankles through thermal socks and insulated work boots.

  “If you rearrange the room so the couch isn’t blocking the fireplace, it wouldn’t be so chilly against your back. The wind coming down the flue is as bad as the kitchen window.”

  “I just wear a lot of layers.”

  “Now that you have a roommate, you can’t let me freeze. We’ll have to do something as a temporary fix.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Relax. I’ll handle it.”

  “I need the rent money for bills. I can’t invest in repairs.”

  “Well, you’re looking at a pretty handy guy.” And in the spirit of being handy, he set his cup on the table, then rubbed the soft fabric covering her thigh.

  She stared pensively into space. “I-I have to tell you something. Getting back to what we were talking about…on Thanksgiving.”

  He halted her before she could start, not wanting to backtrack to him being a hard-ass that night. “No, let’s just fuggetaboutit.”

  “I can’t. Please, let me just say it, and then if you don’t like it you can leave.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  “There’s another reason why Britney hates me. The real reason…You see, Mark and I-I didn’t know it, not until the doctors told me, but at the time of the accident…I, um, I was a few weeks pregnant. And I lost the baby.”

  Wincing with her words, he felt her pain like a kidney punch. “God, Lily, I’m sorry.”

  “We were always really careful. But one time the condom broke, and that’s all it took. The thing that still bothers me is, even if I hadn’t lost it, I don’t know if I would’ve wanted to have it on my own. His family would’ve wanted it—to have a living piece of Mark. I don’t think I would’ve had the heart to give it up. And I was in no position to raise a child—God, look at me now, I can hardly take care of myself. Could you imagine if I had a baby?”

  Yes. “And Britney blames you? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Lily choked back a sob of fresh tears. “She thinks I…that I terminated it on purpose.”

  So, this is what she’d been too afraid to tell him. Had he known, he never would have pushed her. “Aww, Lil.” He wrapped both arms around her, pulling her into his lap. In the dull light, he saw the agony in her eyes and lines of torment tugging her frown. “Please don’t cry.”

  She covered her face with her hands like a child. “You must think I’m a terrible person.”

  “No. Not at all.” He collected her slender wrists with one hand to keep her from hiding.
“Your history doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

  A fleeting smile flickered before she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

  “Lily, look at me.” She needed to know the gravity of his emotions. “You believe me, dontcha?”

  “Yes. I believe you, but…”

  “But what?” He read the deliberation in her eyes. Her words came too slow for his brain’s warp-speed.

  “Remember when you asked how I felt about children?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. Remembering how I felt at the time…it was terrible. I hoped by now—that I’m older, still none the wiser—I’d feel better.”

  “Lily, you lost the baby. It’s not your fault.”

  “I know.” She swiped an escaped tear.

  “You can’t beat yourself up forever. Do you believe things happen for a reason?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Well, I know so. Take it from an old dog like me—meeting you was no random thing. I really believe God put me in Scenic View to find you.”

  He held her for a while, enjoying the quiet peace. By the time he realized Lily had nodded off in his arms, he was halfway there himself, leaning back with one foot dangling over the armrest and the other on the floor. On her stomach, sleeping between his thighs, she used his torso as a pillow. He could get used to this position, and a few others, but he’d reserve those passionate thoughts for another time.

  Sleeping with her, literally, was good enough for now.

  ****

  “What time is it?” Lily awoke with a groan.

  It couldn’t be morning yet. The windows were dark, except for the sliver of streetlight between the curtains. Straightening her crooked neck to see the clock on her nightstand, she realized she wasn’t in her bedroom. And her lumpy mattress was a rock-hard wall of manly chest and abs clad in soft flannel.

  That meant everything wasn’t just a fantastic dream!

  She pinched herself to be sure she was awake.

  She was.

  Slowly, she peeled off Nick, not wanting to wake him. He looked so serene despite slouching in the corner of the loveseat. She cupped his warm cheek, sliding her palm over the rough stubbly surface. Running fingers through his dense hair was tempting, but she settled on brushing the dark fringe off his forehead.

  Last night had been an overwhelming relief, realizing his feelings ran as deep as hers. No more denying the electric charge between them. The chemical reaction. The zing.

  After revealing all the things torturing her soul for so long without generating the negative side effects she’d feared, she never wanted to let him go.

  Howling wind and delicate tinkling against the glass inspired her to peek outside. Snow, and lots of it, covered the world as far as she could see. There was something magical about the first snowfall of the season.

  And there was something magical about waking up to Nick. The drafty old house didn’t feel so cold with him around.

  She needed this kind of companionship. She needed him. Now that she had him where she wanted him she could rest easy. Snuggling against his chest, she drifted back to sleep.

  “Lily?”

  Lost in a dream, Nick’s tender voice roused her while his fingers played with her hair.

  “Lily. Lil. Wake up.”

  “What? Why?” She sat upright, stretching, as he rolled from under her.

  “I need to go out for a while.”

  Fear tightened in her belly. “Is there a fire?”

  “Don’t worry, sugar. It’s just snowing. I gotta take the plow out.” He grabbed his leather jacket from the coat tree.

  “Can’t it wait until sunup?”

  “Accumulation makes it harder. I gotta start now. People need to go to work in the morning.” He kissed her forehead and covered her with the afghan, leaving her with a Terminator impression, “I’ll be back.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He must have finally lost his friggin mind, voluntarily leaving the warmth of Lily’s embrace to freeze his cojones off. With zero visibility, driving was a nightmare. The roads were impassable for anyone without a plow.

  Toggling the joystick on the control pad, Nick dropped the blade and angled it toward the right, making a first pass down Sunflower Summit to Main Street. Then he turned around and repeated the process until it was clear.

  The mechanical task cleared his mind as well. He could only focus on this one thing right now, otherwise he might take off the bumper of a car. What were these people thinking—parking in the street during a blizzard when they had driveways.

  The more important question was—what was Lily thinking when she asked him to move in? Hopefully her offer wasn’t based on the heat of an emotional moment.

  Just what the hell was he thinking when he agreed?

  Fending off his sexual frustration living under the same roof was gonna be impossible. The challenge had him adjusting his jeans. He cracked the windows to cool his raging hormones. The frenzy between his head, heart, and hardness had him driving in circles.

  His heart wanted to go straight to Lily’s, while his head nudged him toward the firehouse to check-in with Maresca. But in the end, the painful strain in his pants won.

  He plowed a path to the marina, parked in his usual meditation corner, and took care of some personal business.

  Now that the dirty deed was done, and the snow had tapered off, he could head home for a little while.

  Before putting the truck in Reverse, his cell phone jangled the old-fashioned ringtone that belonged to one person. “Hey, Tristan. What’s up?” Nick braced himself, as no good news ever came from his best buddy at such an early hour.

  “Hey, bro. Did I wake you?”

  “I’m up to my nuts in snow. How’re things in Star Harbor?”

  “We got a dusting, that’s it. So, how’ya been? I haven’t talked to you in a while.” Tristan sucked in a breath like he was smoking a cigarette—something he only did under major stress.

  “You’re not calling me at six a.m. to tell me you miss me, are you? Everything all right?”

  An audible exhale vibrated over the line. “Stacy moved out. I got home from work an hour ago and all her stuff’s gone.”

  Nick winced. Tristan and his wife’s marital problems weren’t anything new. “She’ll come back. She always does. Right?”

  “I hope so—but not for my sake. I’m sick of her shit. I’m calling a divorce attorney. The only reason I want her to come home is because of the baby.”

  “Wait—she didn’t take Nicole?”

  “Nope. She left my sister in charge. I’m gonna call my in-laws. They’re flying in from London for Christmas, maybe they can change their plans and come sooner. Her daycare’s only Monday through Friday. I’ll find someone to watch her on nights and weekends.”

  “If there’s anything I can do, let me know. She’s my goddaughter. I love her like she’s my own, you know that.”

  “You’re a little too far away right now.” Tristan’s breathing dragged. “I have no choice but to rely on my sister.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “She may be a wildcat, but she’d never hurt Nicole.” Tristan cleared his throat. “Umm, while we’re on the topic of Claudine—do you know she’s looking for you?”

  Nick figured as much seeing how she’d been calling three times daily for the past couple of weeks, never leaving a message. “I hope you didn’t tell her where I am.”

  “I would never, bro. But maybe you could just talk to her—?”

  “No. Friggin. Way.”

  “Come on, will ya, she’s my sister. Do it for me.”

  Nick had the sick recollection of those same words nearly twenty years ago. “Come on, she’s my sister, just do it for me. You don’t have to marry her, just take her on one date.” That one date had led to a wedding and the single biggest mistake of his life. Groaning before responding, he wanted to avoid any misunderstanding. “We. Are. Divorced. There
is nothing left to say.”

  “I get where you’re coming from. But you know how relentless she can be. I’m sure she’ll find you sooner or later. She’s pretty resourceful.”

  “Do you know what she wants?”

  “Probably one of your pep talks. Husband-number-three tossed her out, which is why she’s been staying in my guest room. She said you don’t answer her calls. Maybe you should, so she doesn’t show up on your doorstep.”

  After Tristan hung up, Nick mulled over the information on the slow ride home. The last thing he needed was his ex-wife appearing in Scenic View to stir the shit-pot.

  He didn’t want to think of Claudine.

  Lily was all he needed. She made him tipsy without drinking a single drop.

  When he got home, he brought in his duffel bag, a big flashlight, and a facemask from the backseat, wanting to check the chimney before lighting it up.

  She wasn’t on the couch, so she was probably in her bed, unless she’d ventured to the train station on foot since her car was boxed in the driveway. He wouldn’t put it past her. However, her blue puffy coat was still hanging on the coat tree.

  First things first, he made a pit stop in the bathroom after hours of drinking coffee. It was colder in here than the rest of the house because a piece of plywood was all that covered the small broken window.

  Next, he moved the couch so he could reach the firebox. He’d call a professional to do a complete sweep, but it looked good enough for now. During his coffee stops at the mini-mart, he’d picked up a dozen fire-starting logs—enough to keep warm for the weekend until he could get a couple cords of wood. Wouldn’t she be surprised to wake up in the morning to heat for a change?

  Outside her bedroom, he whispered, “Lily—can I come in?” Her door was ajar and he peeked inside.

  In the bit of gray morning light peeking between the parted curtains, it looked like the usual teenage-girl’s bedroom, complete with stuffed animals cluttering every corner, posters of cats and dogs dressed like people, and flowery border-paper.

  Asleep beneath a bundle of blankets, with a teddy bear nuzzled under her chin, she looked too comfortable to disturb.