Be Mine for Christmas

Be Mine For Christmas

A Contemporary Romance Short

By

Alicia & Roy Street

Copyright © 2012 Alicia Street, Roy Street

All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from Alicia Street with the exception of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by EarthlyCharms.com

Be Mine For Christmas

“Brandon, come back here.” Ellie couldn’t really blame her six-year-old for being angry. This winter wonderland that smelled of balsam and roasting chestnuts affected her with its magic, too, making her long for everything Christmas could be. But that didn’t change the facts.

“Brandon?” She walked through rows of huge Douglas firs, their branches caressing Ellie’s shoulders with gentle scratching sounds as they brushed against her quilted parka, her boots crunching on packed snow underfoot. She’d thought Santa Sunday at Madsen’s Christmas tree farm would be a way to share some holiday fun with Brandon—without spending money she didn’t have. But between the ride in Santa’s train, the bells, the carols and the tempting gift shop full of bright, colorful toys, she’d only made things worse.

“Brandon!” Where was he? How could he get away from her so fast? Her anxiety mounted. She picked up her pace, moving down one row of evergreens after the next, with no sign of her son.

Jogging around a bend, she tripped and ran smack against a broad, hard chest in a black sweater. She glanced up and her breath caught at the sight of a square-jawed Viking, blond curls framing his face beneath a woolen cap, smiling blue eyes with lashes that would make most women jealous. 

His hands gripped her shoulders as he set her steadily on her feet. “I think you’re the one I’ve been looking for.”

Don’t I wish
. This buff hunk would be exactly what she’d ask Santa for—if she believed in such things. She shook off the thought. “My little boy ran into this section of trees and I can’t find him. He’s wearing a green parka with a dinosaur embroidered on the back.” 

A slow smile formed on the Viking’s handsome face. “And his name is Brandon Dean.”

He knew her son’s name? At first her mom-alarm freaked over this breach of the “no talking to strangers” rule she’d drilled into Brandon. But then she thought about the friendly atmosphere of this place. “You’ve found him? Where is he?”

The man turned away and gestured for her to follow. Ellie raced to keep up with his long strides.

When they came to an isolated barnlike building in a clearing behind the trees, her safety defenses kicked in. She stopped in her tracks. “Where are you taking me? I thought you said—”

“Your boy’s right here.” He opened the door wide enough for her to see a brightly lit workshop. Evergreen branches, ribbons and shiny Christmas balls spread across broad tables.

And there sat Brandon, sipping hot chocolate and watching with admiring eyes as a boy who looked about thirteen secured pinecones on a wreath.

Ellie let out an audible sigh. Brandon glanced up. She was about to rush forward and hug him, but he gave her a frown and turned away.

She blinked back tears, telling herself it was only that he wanted to be seen as a big boy now, not a mama’s baby. But guilt flooded her. She knew a large part of his anger stemmed from hearing his mom say no every time he asked for something. When Ellie had lost her job last year, she’d promised herself not to allow the stress of their situation to affect her son.

Apparently she had failed.

A touch on her elbow urged her to give the boy his space. “How about some hot chocolate?” The Viking’s deep voice sent a spark through Ellie that stirred something inside her. She followed him to a bench in the corner near an iron stove.

“I’m Reece Madsen, by the way.”

“Madsen? Then this is your farm?”

He nodded. “Does Brandon’s mom have a name?”

“Ellie Dean.” She took the mug of steaming cocoa he handed her and whispered, “Thank you for finding my son.”

“Actually, he tripped and fell against me just like you did.” His sea blue eyes held hers with a look that instantly brought back the memory of her hands, cheek and chest pressing against his muscular body.

And how good it felt.

Was that what he was thinking, too?

He sat next to her on the bench. Ellie fought her spontaneous reaction to the heat and power of this man being so close to her, reminding herself that a guy this gorgeous would already be taken, and she had no time to get involved in a relationship anyway.

Except she found herself looking at his large, calloused hands. Merely admiring a rugged man who worked outdoors, of course. Her survey had nothing to do with noticing the way his sensual fingers wrapped around his mug. Or that he wore no wedding band. “Is that your son? I mean…” Oh geez. It just popped out of her mouth.

“Nah. I’m not married. Tommy’s my nephew. He works here every Saturday during the season. My brother-in-law tells him he’s got to earn his share of the new BMX bike he got for his birthday. But that’s just so the boy can hold onto his tough guy image. Truth is Tommy loves designing evergreen decorations. He’s a born artist. Makes beautiful stuff.”

Ellie sipped her cocoa wondering how she’d be able to manage the subtle tricks of raising a boy without having a father around. At six, Brandon was already making it clear he didn’t want to be coddled by a woman. “That’s a lovely kissing ball Tommy’s working on now.”

Reece leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the corners of his mouth tweaking. “We put mistletoe in all of our Christmas kissing balls. So, be careful where you stand, or you might get kissed.”

She felt her face flush with heat. Was he flirting with her? She usually had no trouble delivering a cute comeback, but being under Reece Madsen’s gaze drove all thought from her head.

Gulping down her drink, she stood and said, “I’d better be going. Thanks again for your help.” As she walked toward the table, Ellie couldn’t help wondering how she looked to Reece if he was observing her from behind. Her parka was short and her jeans more snug than they used to be before she gained a few extra pounds. “Okay, Brandon. Time to leave.”

He bounced off the wooden stool and looked at Reece. “Gonna get our tree now? The one I showed you?”

Ellie clenched her jaw. “I told you. We’re not taking that tree.”

“Reece said I could have it, Mom.”

She turned, fuming, but kept her tone polite. “Your trees are lovely, but we only came here to see Santa.”

Reece walked forward. “The boy says you need a tree for Christmas.”

“We have one, thanks.”

Brandon burst into stomping mode. “A junkie fake tree that doesn’t even come up to my knee! How cool is that?”

“Stop it, Brandon.”

“He picked out a really great balsam fir,” Reece said. 

Ellie rounded on him. “It’s a seventy-five dollar tree. I’m not saying it isn’t worth it, but I happen to be out of work right now.”

“So I’ll make it a gift.”

“What? Why should you do that? You don’t even know us.” Ellie couldn’t believe she’d just blurted out the humiliating news of her financial troubles to this man. The last thing she wanted from someone like him was charity and pity. 

Reece shrugged “I like to give things away at Christmas.”

Her mouth went on speed-dial. “That’s very generous of you, but I can’t accept. Christmas is still three weeks away. I’ll have a job by then. In fact, I’ve been offered a very big job that I’ll be starting soon. Maybe even tomorrow.”

She grabbed Brandon’s hand. “Don’t you worry, Bran. Mommy will get you a beautiful tree for Christmas,” she said, promising herself she’d make it happen somehow.

It was no use trying to tell a six-year-old to just be grateful for the food and shelter he had. That’s exactly what her mother used to say to her every time she asked for something they couldn’t afford. Ellie didn’t want her son to be a worried kid like she had been, dwelling on survival needs instead of happy Christmas wishes.

But she also didn’t want Reece Madsen looking at her like a weak and pathetic woman needing to be rescued. That’s exactly how she’d been lured in by her ex. Falling for a knight in shining armor who was in reality anything but. No way would she ever let that happen again.

“Thanks for your help, Mr. Madsen. Have a good holiday.”

**

Monday afternoon, Reece Madsen pulled into the gas station minimarket to pick up a quick Danish and coffee. He hadn’t eaten lunch yet and still had a few stops to make before returning to the farm where his boring tuna fish sandwich sat in the fridge awaiting him.

He hopped out of the Madsen’s Christmas Tree Farm van, its back end filled with red, pink and white poinsettias that he’d sell at the farm and use to decorate his gift shop. He bought them every year from Richardson’s Gardens, run by his friend Parker, whose thumb was so green he could probably grow dollar bills if he tried.

Once inside, Reece made a beeline for the coffee counter, but he stopped short when he saw Ellie Dean standing there fixing herself a cup.

If he’d thought it was hard to get her out of his mind last night, how much worse would it be after seeing her dressed in this sexy elf outfit? A holly red dress with a green sash at her tiny waist and a short, flared skirt that showed off the prettiest set of legs this side of heaven.

Reece felt certain she had no husband. Her ringless fingers, the fact that Brandon never mentioned a father in his plea… and the way she had looked at him.

Yesterday he’d tried to act casual in front of Ellie, not let on that he was going crazy inside. But he’d gotten totally zapped with that mind-blowing sense of recognition the moment their eyes met. He was certain her face was the same one he’d seen in his mind when he’d had his accident; her voice the same one he’d heard telling him to hold on, to stay alive.

Five long years ago. What did it mean?

Reece wasn’t by nature a superstitious man, but lying under a mangled car thinking death was coming in a matter of moments had way of making a person believe in strange things.

Flirtatious humor being his best cover, Reece inched up behind Ellie. “You use three whole packs of sugar?”

She turned and froze. “Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked in a breathless voice.

He raised his eyebrows. “Buying some coffee.” Struggling for control, worried she’d see the raw need in him, he dropped his gaze to her mouth that was half open from her silent gasp. And what a delicious mouth. It was all he could do to hold himself back from cupping her neck and planting his lips on hers.

“I’m guessing that big job offer you talked about must’ve come from Santa himself,” he said in a joking tone. “I hear he pays his elves pretty well. Or are you just showing your Christmas spirit?” He followed that with an appreciative glance at her dress and watched her turn red. Heck, after the way she blew off his attempt at playing Santa hero yesterday, a part of him enjoyed making her a bit uncomfortable.

“It’s only a temporary position for the holiday season,” she said, her chin high.

“Where?”

“Right next door. Uncle Larry’s E-Z World.”

“Larry’s?”

“Appliances and electronics.”

“Oh, I know it well. I also know Larry Neams.”
What a sleazeball
. The thought of Larry The Lech even looking at Ellie disturbed Reece to the core.

“In fact, I’d better hurry back.” Ellie maneuvered past him and headed for the register. Grabbing her change, she turned to Reece and gave a quick, “Bye,” before shooting out the door.

Momentarily stunned, Reece stared after her, mesmerized by the cute sway of her hips and the clicking of her foxy stiletto heels on the tile floor. He bounded forward and caught up with Ellie as she hurried across the parking lot. She slowed when she reached blackened snow obviously piled into mounds by a plow and forming a mini-wall between the lots fronting the convenience store and the appliance center.

Reece watched in disbelief as she dug her spikey heels into the mounds. He wanted to take her hand and steady her, but he knew she’d resist. “So, Larry put out the call for some elves and you answered. How many elves does he have working over there?”

“There’s four of us. Why?”

“Don’t tell me you had to audition?”

She turned and glared at him. “Are you implying something?”

“Pardon me. I can’t figure out a nice way of putting this, but I’ll say it anyway. I grew up with Larry Neams. Just be on your toes. He used to run a topless bar over in Riverhead. Need I say more?”