All He Wants For Christmas

by Elisabeth Naughton, Alexandra Ivy, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Laura Wright, Skye Jordan

  “Come on, girl,” Babs said, leaning over the counter, her gray wig slightly askew. “That is totally him.”

  “Him who?” Carol said, distractedly.

  “The perfect Christmas wish.”

  That made her look up. Made her belly start churning again.

  Babs nodded, her eyes practically glowing.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Carol said, returning to her work. Because it was ridiculous. Right? Granted, she had all the symptoms of attraction: churning, her hand still tingling from where he’d touched it, more churning… But clearly, the man didn’t share her attraction. He was all about the toboggans. He probably had a girlfriend. He was probably in town for a hot minute—not to mention that he was way out of her league now. The Black Card Gabriels of the world weren’t interested in retail chicks. And that was fine. Completely fine. It was good to see him again, know he was okay, but what she needed to do was stay focused on keeping her business afloat.

  “Let’s get back to work, Mrs. Claus,” Carol said, even as her traitorous mind conjured images of ice blue eyes, strong hands and tailored suits. “Christmas is only two days away.”

  * * *

  “Where to now, sir?” the driver asked as they pulled off Main Street.

  “Down Evergreen Way, Frank,” Gabriel answered.

  “Very good, sir.”

  As the town car turned onto the street where he’d once lived, Gabriel glanced up from his phone. As usual, Christmas was in full festive swing. Lights and wreaths. Kids building snowmen. Mothers and fathers taking pictures and laughing. Gabriel watched it all from the back seat.

  A silent, impassive observer.

  When Frank pulled up alongside 1423, Gabriel rolled down the glass and let the cold air and light snowfall settle over his skin. Where there had once been a dark, dank home and an unkempt lawn, now a white picket fence surrounded one of the prettiest, sweetest homes on the street. A few years ago, he’d bought the piece of shit house he’d lived in for three years and promptly bulldozed it to the ground. With the okay from his foster siblings, he’d built another in its place, thinking that…that maybe one of them would want to live in it at some point. Or rent it out. But so far it remained empty. Neither he, Will or Amy wanted to breathe the air at 1423 again.

  Ten years faded in his mind, like it always did whenever he came back here. To this street, this piece of property. Will and Amy. Hunger. The Diamants’ perfect aim. His chest tightened sharply at the thought, but he willed it away. He was very good at that now. Suppressing emotion. After he’d left Evergreen and the Christmas-obsessed town of Holly, he’d had a respectable amount of time to practice. Thanks to Carol Cardini. Admittedly, the girl who’d changed his life forever had grown up into a strikingly beautiful woman. And ambitious. And hopeful.

  His eyes moved over the newly-painted steps. He’d kept them. As a reminder. Of her…how she’d ‘helped’ him, and how one day he would find the perfect way to thank her.

  “Will you be getting out, sir?” Frank asked, cutting into his thoughts.

  “No,” he replied. Not today.

  “Home, then?”

  Home. Gabriel suppressed a dark grin as they turned off Evergreen and headed up the mountain. He didn’t think of the home he’d purchased in Holly that way. Hell, he didn’t think of any of his properties that way. Even the condo in New York where he lived ten months out of the year. They were investments. Means to an end. A place to eat and sleep. In his estimation, growing attached to anything, giving it the romantic notion of home, was a recipe for certain disappointment.

  He watched the snowflakes hit the glass. Thicker as the car ascended the mountain.

  Perhaps, this one was…different, he mused as Frank turned into the driveway and stopped the car in front of the black iron gates. He’d purchased the lavish mountain estate four years ago, after he’d bought, demolished and sold an entire city block in Downtown Los Angeles. It was the moment everything changed. No one could touch him. Control him. Tell him where to go or what to do.

  He didn’t wait for Frank to open the car door for him. As soon as they pulled up, he got out and strode inside. He was immediately met in the foyer by his housekeeper. The woman was immaculately dressed as usual, in a dark green skirt and sweater, her makeup tasteful, her short gray hair lightly spiked.

  She took his coat and gave him a smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Fox.”

  “Anne.” She’d been with him only a year, but she knew his routines and wants and moods better than he did. She was also a damn good cook.

  As he left the foyer and headed into the living room, she followed. “Everything is ready for tonight.”

  “Very good.”

  “It will be a lovely party, sir. The first of many, I hope.”

  “We’ll see.” He picked up the two newspapers waiting for him on the massive glass coffee table and headed for his office.

  He was nearly at the door when Anne said, “Two couples and…yourself. Correct?”

  He turned around to address her. Raised his brow. “Was that a question, Anne?”

  The woman tried to suppress her smile. She smiled a lot. Too much, even. Maybe he should talk to her about it. Though the estate was on the border, it was still in Holly. The town was built on smiles. Maybe he should’ve hired in New York.

  “My grand niece is home for Christmas,” she said, looking all too eager. “She’s very nice. Single. Getting her master’s in—”

  “Thank you, Anne,” he said, cutting her off. “I’ve made arrangements.”

  “Oh.” The housekeeper looked surprised. In the year she’d worked for him, she’d never seen him with a woman. He liked it that way. “Three couples, then,” she clarified. “Very good, sir.”

  When she hesitated, he asked with a tinge of irritation, “Is there something else, Anne?”

  “I was going to make place cards for the table…”

  “Were you now?”

  “Yes.” Again with the smile. “Could I have your…”

  He sighed. “Carol Cardini is going to be my date.”

  She just didn’t know yet.

  And with that, Gabriel strode into his office and closed the door.

  No matter how carefully you stored the lights last year, they will be snarled again this Christmas.

  -Robert Kirby

  Chapter 2

  Carol glanced at the Santa clock and breathed a weary sigh. She only wanted two things right now: bath and bed. But that wasn’t going to happen for a couple more hours. She was staying open a little later this week for the tourists, and for the store. And it had been a good decision. Nearly double the business of the day before. The knowledge made her heart squeeze. She’d shoot her landlord an email later, give him a big Merry Christmas and let him know that January’s rent was not going to be late.

  “You can go, Babs,” she told her friend in a tired but contented voice.

  Still dressed as Mrs. Claus, Babette sashayed over to the tree and replaced a flickering bulb. “It’s only five, hon.”

  “Yes, but I can handle it. It’s not that busy, and I’m sure you have a date.”

  The woman looked up and grinned.

  Laughing, Carol gestured toward the back of the store. “Just leave the costume on the hook in the break room, and you’re good to go. Thanks for today. You were an amazing help. We’re a good team, don’t you think?”

  “I do.”

  The two-word answer was suspect. Carol crossed her arms over her chest. “Something up?”

  “I was just hoping…” Babette began. “Can I borrow it?”

  “Borrow what?”

  She posed, one arm in the air, one leg stretched to the side. “The costume.”

  “Seriously?”

  “For my date.” She turned to Carol, noticed her stunned expression and exhaled with exasperation. “You really do need to get out, girl. See, there’s this thing called role playing—”

  “Okay stop.” Carol shook her head. “Please.�
�

  “I won’t get it dirty if that’s what’s bothering you,” Babs said on a laugh. “I promise.” She put her hand up as proof. “Mrs. Claus always stays clean. Unless she’s cooking, of course.”

  “Oh, God,” Carol muttered.

  “You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Babette asked.

  “I’m sure. So, so very sure.” She pointed to the door. “Go. Go, go, go. Have a Christmas-y night of hot…Santa…whatever.” Oh, my brain… She’d have to scrub and scrub to get that thought out.

  Babette pursed her lips. “I could ask my date if he has a brother.”

  “I appreciate that,” Carol said. “Really. But alas, my Rudolph costume is in the shop. Or is it at the dry cleaners?”

  Babs snorted. “That’s very funny. Night, girl. See you in the a.m.” After righting her wig, she gave a little wave and sashayed out the door.

  See if he had a brother. Carol rolled her eyes. Rudolph costume. She turned to the cash register and grabbed the receipts. That girl was crazy. Fun. But crazy. Adventurous. But crazy. Never lonely. But—

  The door jangled. Forgetful. And crazy.

  “What did you forget?” she said, glancing up, expecting gray hair, glasses and Bab’s Cheshire cat smile, but instead she found a man. One she didn’t recognize. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here to pick up the ten toboggans for Mr. Fox.”

  Carol’s heart fluttered in her chest, like someone had unleashed a hundred butterflies. Fox. So that was Gabriel’s last name? Was that the name of the family he went to after he left Holly? She liked it. It suited him.

  The man stopped at the counter, stuck his hand out. “Name’s Frank.”

  She shook it. “Carol. I’ll just go and fetch the sleds.”

  “No need for that, Miss Cardini,” he said formally. “If you could just show me where they are, I’ll take care of everything.”

  “But—”

  “Mr. Fox would have me insist on it.”

  Who was this guy? An assistant? Employee? “Okay.” She led him into the back and pointed out the stack of beautifully preserved toboggans from the early nineteen hundreds. She’d bought them about a year ago at an auction, and had hired Ernie Jessup to restore them. She’d never thought in a million years someone would buy all of them at once. But she had to admit, it was a blessing.

  “Can I ask…” she began.

  Checking out each sled, Frank glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, Miss Cardini?”

  “What is he doing with those?”

  “Mr. Fox is entertaining tonight.”

  “Oh. And they’re all going sledding?”

  He nodded.

  “So Gabriel bought these for a party tonight? One party?”

  Again, he nodded. “Yes, Miss Cardini. And speaking of which.” He reached inside his jacket, took out an envelope walked over to her. “For you.”

  “He’s already paid.”

  The man smiled. “It’s not a payment, Miss Cardini. It’s an invitation.”

  Her heart stuttered, and she felt suddenly breathless. She glanced down at the cream-colored envelope with her name scrawled on it in red ink.

  “Mr. Fox is expecting you at eight.”

  When Carol looked up again, the man had two of the toboggans clutched to his chest and was already heading out of the room.

  * * *

  Gabriel paced the rug in the master bedroom.

  What if she refused his invitation? He was pinning everything on chance. Not how he did things.

  He growled at himself. There was no area of his life in which he felt insecure. Not anymore. But for some reason…this girl—no, this woman—unnerved him. It was unacceptable. Carol Cardini was a plan to carry out. Not a pretty girl who made him feel insecure.

  Get your shit together, Fox.

  He grabbed the tweed sport coat off the bed and tossed it on, then left the master bedroom and made his way downstairs. His guests were going to be here soon. He needed a drink before they did.

  He found his housekeeper and most of the catering staff in the kitchen. Even with the controlled chaos that was standard for pre-party, Anne came over and gave him a head-to-toe check.

  “You look very nice, Mr. Fox.”

  “Thank you,” he said tightly.

  She noticed his terseness and pressed on without missing a beat. “Everything’s ready. Will you still be wanting drinks on the deck before dinner? Heaters are in place.”

  He nodded. “I’m going there now. Let me know when the guests have arrived.”

  “I’ll bring them to you, sir.”

  As instructed, the wall of windows in the second living room stood open, connecting the inside to the out. Gabriel immediately headed for the bar and ordered a whiskey. It was an extraordinarily beautiful night on the snow-dusted mountain. Clouds moving over and away from the shock of moon. Gabriel went to the railing and looked out, warmth from the heaters at his back. Below him, Holly was lit up. Ever the Christmas card. A fairy tale.

  For those who still believed in them.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” came a female voice behind him.

  It was a voice that brought his head around. Standing just outside the glass doors, wearing a stunning strapless red dress that was molded to her fantastic body, was Carol Cardini. The woman who had ruled his dark thoughts for a decade.

  “You’re not dressed for sledding,” he said.

  She started toward him, smoothing down her long blond hair, which was pulled over one creamy white shoulder. “The invitation said a formal dinner first. But I did bring a change of clothes, if plans have changed.”

  Of course it had said that. What the hell was wrong with him? “Nothing’s changed. You look beautiful. Thank you for coming.”

  She smiled. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  Gabriel led her over to the bar. “What can I get you?”

  “Red wine would be great.”

  The bartender was already on it.

  “I have to admit I’m surprised,” Carol continued.

  “Why is that?” His traitorous gaze moved over her face. Such perfect skin and those lips…

  “Well, I haven’t seen you in—”

  “Ten years,” he supplied, then handed her the wine. “Almost to the day.”

  She looked a little startled. “Right. Well, it’s just that you invite me to your home. For a dinner party. After all this time. It’s a little…”

  “Sledding,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Dinner and sledding.”

  Her mouth twitched, and her hazel eyes filled with humor. “Why, Gabriel?”

  He guided her back to the railing, the incredible view. “I’ve thought a lot about you. Since I left.” Nearly every damn day. How could I not? “I was interested in reconnecting.”

  She stared out at the lights of her home town. Her beloved Holly. “I’ve thought about you, too.”

  He hated how his insides pulsed at her words. “Is that so?”

  She turned to look at him. “I wanted to know…where you went. If you were okay.”

  The pulse turned to a stab. Directly through his very cold heart. “How nice.”

  She immediately picked up on the thread of irritation in his tone. Her brows slammed together. Why shouldn’t she think this, feel this? He’d have to be more careful with his reactions.

  “I’m okay, Carol,” he said.

  Her eyes searched his, looking for something, probing. “I’m glad.” She hesitated, her teeth scraping at her bottom lip. It was highly erotic. “Can I ask…”

  He moved closer. She smelled so good. Like snow and spice. He wondered what she tasted like. “Ask me anything,” he uttered.

  “Where did you go?” she whispered, her eyes on his mouth. “After you left Holly? Where did they take you?”

  Gabriel stiffened as the sound of laughter inside the house caught his ear. He stared at her, just a few inches away. So beautiful with the snowy landscape behind her. He wanted to bark
at her, growl at her, for the past and for right now. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, lick that hot red lipstick off her mouth.

  Breathless, she stared back at him.

  “My guests have arrived,” he said tightly. “Come. Let me introduce you.”

  He reached for her hand, and the moment his skin connected with hers, ice to fire, he knew his plan was in dire jeopardy of failing.

  Santa Claus has the right idea. Visit people once a year.

  –Victor Borge

  Chapter 3

  For the tenth time in an hour and a half, Carol looked around and wondered what she was doing there. Sitting at a beautifully set table with pearl-white tapers, gray-blue linen, exquisite food and four of the most obnoxious humans on the planet.

  “If you give them money,” Brock Carleton stated, stroking his starter beard, “they’ll never get a job. Why would they have to?”

  His wife, Mandy, nodded as she moved food around her plate. Carol could swear the stick figure of a woman hadn’t even had a sip of her water, much less any food, since she sat down. “In my opinion, we’re really doing them a favor.”

  “A favor?” Carol asked tightly.

  The stick figure turned to look at her. “By ignoring them, darling.”

  Carol’s lips parted. Not to say anything, but to pull in more air. She’d been gasping too much in the past hour. Her lungs were growing tired. She glanced in Gabriel’s direction. He was staring straight at her, expressionless.

  “Agreed,” the fiancée in the second couple said. Dawn was her name, and she had to be barely twenty-one. “It’s already happened in this town. A town that was supposed to be free of that kind of thing, by the way.”

  “Did you look directly at them?” Stick Figure asked her. “You can’t look directly at them. If you do, you’ll get roped into a conversation.” She snorted. “Talk about ruining your holiday.”

  “Oh my God, they’re homeless!”

  Carol didn’t realize she’d said anything until everyone turned to look at her. Apparently her lungs were working just fine.

  “Of course they are,” Brock agreed, giving her a pitying look—like she was the idiot on this ship of fools. “What’s your point?”