Montana Secret Santa

by Debra Salonen

  Her beautiful lips quirked in a confused smile, but she nodded and held up her phone. “I had it on mute but heard it vibrating on your dresser. Jenny Monroe said her parents are really suffering. She thinks what we’re planning might help them realize how much people care and want to keep her brother’s memory alive.” She shook her messy head. “Let me read the text to you.”

  He heard the words. His thinking brain knew the right things to say in response, but the part of him that held her the night before with such immense tenderness and passion, made love with her, and woke up with Krista in his arms wanted a do-over—now, before the world intruded. Once they began to carry forward with this plan, the closeness they’d share would become past tense.

  “About last night…”

  She brightened. “I had a great time. I’m not sorry I stayed. Are you?”

  His throat was too tight to say the words he wanted to say. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you.

  “Terrible timing, of course. What with my family coming…”

  She kept talking, filling in the void left by his mute bereavement. Jonah nodded and smiled as he began setting out the ingredients he’d need for breakfast, but his brain heard his brother’s voice, not Krista’s. “Be prepared to cut your losses and move on when she tells you she needs more space. Or time with her family.”

  Already? Wow. That was fast.

  *

  Krista sat in silence a few minutes, watching Jonah crack two eggs and whisk them with practiced ease. Her dad and her brothers were all three fabulous cooks and she found the idea of spending a morning in the kitchen after their night together incredibly sexy. But something felt slightly askew.

  Jonah seemed distracted, preoccupied. He was here, but not present in the same way she was.

  “Who were you talking to when I came in?”

  “Daniel.”

  He gave her what she assumed was an abbreviated recap of the news about his brother-in-law. Was that where his mind was? Empathizing with his sister’s loss?

  “Your poor family. I’m so sorry. I bet you wish you could be with them.”

  His expression turned puzzled, as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. “No. Mom and Dad are there. I’m right where I need to be.”

  An odd way of putting it.

  Jonah flicked a few drops of water into the cast iron frying pan then stepped back when it sizzled and popped. She’d sizzled and they’d popped last night. She honestly couldn’t remember a stronger sense of mutual completion than their lovemaking.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  He looked up from the slice of bread he’d dropped in the egg and milk mix. “Of course. Anything.”

  “Are you regretting last night? I probably should have gone home, shouldn’t I?”

  “Oh, God, no, Krista.” He grabbed a dishtowel to wipe his hands then raced around the counter to pull her into his arms. “Last night was amazing. If not for the dogs, we’d still be in bed. I’m sorry if I seem distracted. I shouldn’t have called Daniel. I let the real world wedge its way onto our perfect little island.”

  She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady, reliable thump of his heart and inhaling the scent she’d never forget.

  She sniffed, her nostrils crinkling. “Hot? Burning?”

  “Oh, shit.”

  He dashed back to the stove, grabbed the handle of the skillet, and let out a cry of pain. More cuss words flew, which, despite the dire situation, made Krista feel less freaked out about what was happening between them. Distractions, she got. She had a few of her own arriving all too soon.

  She flew to his side and helped him run his palm under cold water. She reassured the dogs their temporary master was okay, and then she turned off the stove, put the French toast fixings in the refrigerator and told him, “Let’s get dressed. I’m taking you out for breakfast. Then, we’re going Christmas tree shopping.”

  He cleverly pinned her against the counter and kissed her until her knees turned to rubber. “Good idea, but I have a better one.”

  “Bed?”

  “I wish. Unfortunately, duty calls. I need to walk these guys before I can jump into Secret Santa business. What if we head toward Sage’s and you hold the dogs while I run in and get us cocoa, then we’ll make a leisurely loop past the Bramble House Bed and Breakfast before we head back. I’d like to see how they did their exterior decorations.”

  “Great idea. Let’s go.”

  She tried to convince herself she wasn’t disappointed by his apparent eagerness to leave their cozy little love nest, but it wasn’t until he handed her Bindi’s leash and took her free hand in his that she felt her inner trepidation ease.

  She was laughing by the time they reached Copper Mountain Chocolates. They’d started out comparing Christmas traditions and wound up on the subject of holiday horror stories.

  “I kid you not,” he said, giving her the leads to the other two dogs. He’d been describing his and Daniel’s first attempt at tobogganing. “Dad has it on video. The front of the toboggan cracked like a hardboiled egg when it hit what we thought was a pile of snow but turned out to be a rock. Daniel flew about five feet into the air and landed on his back in a nice, soft bush of some kind. I rocketed headfirst into an old fence. Look.” He jutted his chin in her direction, poking at a spot with his thick leather glove. “I have the scar to prove it. Mom was furious because her turkey wound up overcooked after we sat in the emergency room for three hours.”

  She leaned across the gap between them and kissed his handsome, unblemished-to-her chin. “Pick up a bag of White Chocolate Peppermint Truffles, please. Tell Sage to put it on my account. The cocoa, too.”

  The look he gave her said that wasn’t going to happen, then he ducked inside. She could see him going about his business while she and the dogs waited patiently for him to return. A few fat flakes of snow drifted serenely past the window.

  She felt strangely at peace, which made no sense. She had a million things to do before her family arrived. She didn’t have a single present wrapped or a strand of twinkle lights hung. She had a pile of papers on her desk to organize in preparation for Blue Sky’s new intern. And, yet, here she stood—dogs in hand—waiting for the man who probably wouldn’t be around a month from now.

  Unless… his parents decide to stay in Florida longer than planned.

  But that would only happen if his sister’s situation went from bad to worse. And even thinking such a thing probably made Krista the biggest Grinch on the planet.

  “You’re frowning. Sorry. Fine cocoa takes time. Sage said so.”

  Krista double-clutched the leather leads in her hand to avoid a repeat of their initial meeting. “Bindi, off. Good girl.”

  To Krista’s surprise, Bindi and Bear both returned to her side during the exchange of two leashes for one to-go cup of fragrant, mouth-watering cocoa. “I was thinking about your sister. Is there anything Secret Santa can do to make the holiday a little easier for her and the kids?”

  He stopped dead in his tracks to look at her. “Wow. That is incredibly kind and thoughtful. It never crossed my mind. What does that say about me?” He stuffed the small bag of truffles in his oversize pocket then turned to leave. “Mom and Dad have the decorations and presents covered, but let me give the idea some thought. Thank you for suggesting it.”

  They ambled down Main to Court Street past the library to the bend that brought them to Bramble Lane. “I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard a real life prince of some sort rented the Bramble House for the month of December,” Krista said when they stopped in front of the classic two-story western Victorian, all decked out in sparkly holiday flair. “We must be talking serious bucks.”

  “Interesting. I’ve never stayed here, but Mom says it’s charming and the food is great.” He studied the grounds a moment then looked at Krista and said, “A tad too much Better Homes and Gardens for my taste. I think the fire station tree should be an explosion of c
olor. What do you think?”

  She knew what he meant but she couldn’t resist teasing him a bit. “I agree with the use of multicolored lights, but I think we should avoid using the word explosion at all cost.”

  He dropped his empty cup to the ground and stomped it flat with the heel of his snow boot before stuffing the trash into his other pocket. Once his hand was free, he dropped his arm casually across her shoulder and pulled her to his side. “If you ever leave Blue Sky, I want you to know you have a job with me. I like the way you think, Krista Martin.”

  A job?

  Funny. That was the last thing on her mind.

  They didn’t speak again until they reached a stately but rundown mansion a few blocks down. “Does Judge Kingsley still live here?” Jonah asked. “I remember being terrified of him when I was a kid. I’d never ride home from the library this way if it was after court.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I thought he’d throw me in jail or something.”

  She’d been curious about the house, which had “good bones” as they said on the home improvement shows she watched from time to time, but she’d never gotten the whole 4-1-1 on the old man’s story. “Amanda said something about him losing his grandson in a freak accident and that souring him on life. Or maybe he was sour before and that just sealed the deal. I don’t know. Maybe Secret Santa should hang a wreath on his fence or something.”

  Jonah’s head tilted in the way she’d come to know meant the wheels and cogs in his impressive brain were in rapid fire mode.

  As a grin formed on his handsome lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes increased, her heart stuttered. “What?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small copper colored bag. “I say we put our good intentions where our taste buds are.”

  Her groan made Bindi yodel a matching complaint.

  Jonah wrapped all three dog leashes around one of the weathered fence posts then grabbed her hand. “Dare ya.”

  She righted her shoulders and gave him a small push. “I’m not the kid who rode out of his way to avoid a sad old man. After you, Santa.”

  He flashed her another grin. “Ho, ho, ho, it’s off to work we go.”

  She followed a step behind trying to match his footsteps in the shin-deep snow of the un-shoveled sidewalk. He helped her up the icy stairs, which would need some serious attention come spring. The tarnished, once-handsome doorknocker probably shined with luster in another era, but it still worked.

  The dull echo made her nerves spike. Jonah’s hand tightened on hers. She was staring at the poignant designs of frost in the corner of every window when quite unexpectedly a lean, lanky tomcat suddenly appeared on the porch.

  “Hey, boy,” Jonah said reaching out.

  The cat shot out of reach and sprang to the porch railing, back arched in a classic defensive pose. Bear was the first to notice. His bark set off a cacophony of dog outrage, which actually seemed to please the cat since the canines were safely tied to the opposite side of the fence.

  “Come on. Let’s go,” Jonah said, pivoting on one heel.

  “What’s all the ruckus?” a withered, scratchy voice bellowed through a slender crack in door. The cat jumped down and disappeared. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  Jonah held out their meager offering. “We’re from the Montana Secret Santa Society and this is for you. Sir. Merry Christmas.”

  He leaned forward, his hand disappearing into the chasm then retracting a moment later—sans sack. “Merry Christmas, Judge,” Krista said. “And Happy New Year.”

  She thought she detected a mumble that could have been “thank you” or “bah humbug.” She chose to believe it was the former.

  They collected the dogs—all three riled up from the possibility of a good cat chase—and completed their walk with relative decorum until they reached the kitchen of the Andrews’ home where they collapsed in a mutual fit of laughter that led, not surprisingly, to the bedroom.

  Chapter Eleven

  Four hours later, Krista’s late night of fabulous food, mind-blowing sex, and impulsive risks involving her heart caught up with her. She stared into the overhead fluorescent lights of Big Z Hardware and compared the thudding beat of her heart to the pounding timpani in the core of her brain. Maybe I have an aneurysm.

  “I should be so lucky,” she muttered under her breath.

  Her partner in this crime against good taste held up two boxes of exterior lights. “What about these, Krista? I know we agreed on a riot of color, but these globes are pretty sweet. And they’re on sale. A hundred feet for eighty bucks.”

  She rested an elbow on the handle of the store’s cart, which was loaded with enough holiday crap to decorate an entire house, so she could plant her forehead on her palm. The gesture wasn’t lost on Jonah.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “My phone died while I was in the middle of booking a one-way flight to Tahiti. I’m already sick of Christmas. There’s no way I’m going to survive a week with my family.”

  He tossed the packages back on the shelf and walked to her side. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I haven’t done this for so long, I got a little carried away. Normally, I delegate this sort of thing to my staff.”

  He has staff. Of course, he has staff. He’s a rich successful entrepreneur who doesn’t live here. The last came out in a silent cry that made her wince.

  His expression turned to concern. “Are you okay?”

  The intensity of what they’d shared the night before was gone. Even the lighthearted joy of their playful sex a few hours earlier had worn off. Reality had set in. They were casual acquaintances with the hots for each other. No harm. No foul.

  So, why am I hovering on the verge of a panic attack?

  He made a follow me gesture. “Let’s go ahead and check out. The colored lights will be great for the fire house tree and I’m sure we’re going to have enough left over to do your tree, too.”

  My tree. The one Mom wanted Krista to pick out today “before they get too picked over.”

  Maybe the fifteen-message group text exchange that followed and included several photos—a palm tree? In Montana? Really?—had triggered her headache. “You can’t please everybody,” the therapist she’d seen briefly in New York after Thomas’s defection had told her. “Work on pleasing Krista, first, and the rest will fall into place.”

  Like that was going to happen.

  “Maybe I’ll hold off and let my brother buy the stupid tree when he gets here. The man is nothing if not opinionated.”

  Jonah’s stocking cap and gloves were in his pockets. His wavy hair danced in the bright overhead lighting. His joy at being able to make this wish come true for an anonymous stranger seemed palpable. But every movement he made reminded her of how it felt to be in his arms, what an exceptionally generous lover he was. She couldn’t quit second-guessing her decision to sleep with him last night. If she’d slowed things down and waited until after the New Year, would they have had a shot at taking their relationship to the next level?

  She’d broken her own rule and went to bed with him on their first date. And she didn’t understand why. Unlike the rest of her family, she’d never been an immediate gratification girl. She was a planner, a check-all-the-boxes sort of thinker.

  Could she blame what happened on the fact she hadn’t been with a guy in too long to think about? Or was the sexual tension she’d felt between them since that first morning when she’d fallen into his arms to blame?

  He stopped suddenly and picked up one of the boxes, a concerned frown on his face as he read the details on the label. “Double-checking my computations. I don’t want to come up short.”

  She watched his lips do the silent math of how many feet per strand went into the circumference of the tree they’d measured on their way to the store. His lips. God, she loved his lips. Soft but not mushy. She hated mushy lips.

  “Krista?”

  She blinked. “What? Sorr
y?”

  “According to my calculations, we’ve got plenty, but since we don’t know how many ornaments we’ll have, I’m going to pick up a couple of extra. If we don’t need them on the fire house tree, you can use them at your place or give them away.”

  She gulped hard. “My place.” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t visualize her family crowded into her tiny, decoration-less condo. “Naturally, we all want to see your place, too,” Mom had remarked during one recent conversation. “Are you seeing anybody? You’re more than welcome to include him. The more the merrier, as they say.” And what about Jonah? He was in town alone. They’d slept together. Certainly he’d join them if she invited him and why wouldn’t she? Wasn’t that expected if she slept with the man?

  Only Thomas had proven that boyfriends and family were a toxic mix.

  She clamped her fingers around the plastic covering of the shopping cart handle to keep them from shaking. “I can’t do this. Seriously. No. I’m done.”

  “Done with what? We haven’t even started decorating.”

  She made a circling motion. “This. Everything. You and me. Christmas.” She pulled in a halting breath. “I blew it, Jonah. It’s my fault. I should have said, ‘Thanks for the lovely evening, but let’s not spoil things by making mad passionate love all night.’ But we did. And it was beautiful. And now you think—and why wouldn’t you?—that things have changed between us. And that means you’ll want to meet my family. And”—tears clouded her eyes—“and decorate my stupid condo.”

  For the first time since she met him, she couldn’t read his face.

  “You don’t have to use the leftover lights if you don’t like them.”

  Another first. The brilliant mind didn’t understand a word she said. Or, rather, he didn’t comprehend the reasoning behind her panic.

  She rubbed the throbbing spot at the bridge of her nose. “A few minutes ago, Mom forwarded me the receipt from the vacation rental she’s booked. Five bedrooms. One is reserved for me, with a plus one implied. A plus one? Do you think she has connections in the CIA?”