I'm Your Santa (10 page)

“Levi has a beautiful house, and a very important job, and he's a good man. An honorable man.”

Levi felt the stares intensifying. True, he couldn't afford any of the luxuries that Brandon took for granted, but he knew those things weren't important to Beth.

He knew Beth better than Brandon knew her.

“It's all right, Beth.”

“No,” she said, “it is not.”

Brandon's eyes narrowed with mean intent. “Did you go to bed with him, Beth?” His voice rose to a high pitch. “Did you?”

Levi said, “That's enough, Brandon.”

“You did!” Incensed, he took two drunken, wobbly steps toward Beth. “Why you little—”

Levi pulled him back before he got close to her, but Ben and Noah, having seen enough, started forward.

In the awkward position of defending Brandon now, Levi said, “Come on, guys. He's had a hell of a blow.”

Noah stared at Brandon. “He's a loud-mouthed idiot and he's causing a scene.”

“And he's insulting Beth,” Ben added. “Reason enough to toss his ass back outside. He can sober up in the snow.”

Just what Levi didn't need: angry relatives. He glanced at Kent, but Beth's father looked ready to take Brandon apart himself. Shit. He could think of better ways to spend this morning.

To Noah and Ben, Levi said, “Back off, I've got it covered.” His take-charge tone stalled everyone. “Look, Brandon messed up and he knows it. He lost Beth, and now she's with me. He doesn't usually drink, but you can see that he's so hammered, he doesn't even know what he's saying.”

“I know the truth,” Brandon slurred while struggling to stay on his feet. “And the truth is that Beth wanted to hurt me, so she crawled into bed with my
supposed
best friend.”

On the surface, that was damn close to the mark. Levi leveled a warning look on him. “Shut up, Brandon.”

“All this time,” Brandon continued, too drunk to show common sense, “she's been pretending to be a goody-two-shoes but she's really no more than a—”

Levi slapped him. Hard.

Brandon's head snapped back, and as if in slow motion, he started to crumble.

Cursing to himself, Levi caught him by the shirt collar to keep him upright. “Drunk or not, Brandon, you won't insult her.”

Practically on his knees, Brandon blinked at Levi. “You slapped me.”

“Be glad I didn't break your damn nose.”

Shrugging free of him, Brandon dropped to sit on his ass. “But you
slapped
me. Like a bitch.”

Levi glanced at Beth, saw her reddened face and narrowed eyes, and wanted to choke Brandon for upsetting her. “Until you get over it, I'm sticking you in a room and by God, Brandon, you'll stay there until you're sober enough to make your apologies.”

No one got in Levi's way as he more or less hauled Brandon with him to the front desk where a clerk quickly assigned him a room. By the time Levi actually got Brandon into the room, Brandon was dead on his feet. Levi let him fall onto the bed, and Brandon didn't move.

Levi pulled out his cell phone and dialed Beth. She answered on the first ring.

“Levi?”

“Yeah, it's me. You okay?”

“I'm fine. How's Brandon?”

Levi worked his jaw. “Passed out on the bed.”

“Good. I hope he wakes up with a killer headache. He deserves it for being such a jerk.”

“Look, honey, I want to talk to you. I want to be with you. But I don't dare leave him. If I do, he might end up right back in the thick of things—”

“No, I understand.” There was a slight hesitation, and then Beth said, “Thank you, Levi.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

She didn't elaborate on that, so Levi asked, “What do you have planned today?”

“Christmas shopping. I have to catch up to you.”

He grinned. “Be careful. Think about my proposal.”

“Levi.”

“I'll see you later on.” He hung up before she could say anything more, then looked again at Brandon. It didn't look like he'd be stirring any time soon, so Levi turned on the television.

It was going to be a long, miserable day.

 

He fell asleep.

Levi couldn't believe it when he opened his eyes and found the room empty. A glance at the clock showed it was time for dinner.

Damn, damn, damn.

He'd lost sleep the last few days, but that wasn't a good excuse. If Brandon had found Beth and upset her again…

Or worse, what if she forgave him? What if she reconsidered her position?

In record time, Levi was out of the room and heading for the diner. He walked in on a crowd of guests and family alike. Servers bustled back and forth. The clink of forks on plates mixed with the drone of multiple conversations. A quick glance around the congested room helped Levi to locate Beth at a far table with her family.

Brandon stood before them.

As Levi cut through the throng toward them, he saw Brandon gesturing, and Beth nodding.

Fury boiled up.

When he was within a few feet of them, he heard Brandon say, “I got spooked every time I thought of settling down forever. I mean…forever is a hell of a long time, and I'd spent my whole life working toward a goal. There wasn't time for fun, and finally when there was, everyone expected me to settle into married life.”

Levi pulled up short behind him. So far, no one had noticed him. They were all too busy giving Brandon the floor. Somehow, without waking Levi, Brandon had washed and dressed and he looked more like his old stylish self now.

He looked like a very respectable doctor, like Beth's old fiancé.

Beth said, “Go on, Brandon.”

“I know that what I did to you is unforgivable.”

“Unforgettable, certainly,” Beth said. “We can't go back, Brandon.”

Stoic and proud, he nodded. “I understand.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “No, of course not. I need to apologize for my display earlier, too. I've never before overindulged. It's unfortunate that I did this time.”

“Very unfortunate,” Kent said.

“From what I remember, which granted, isn't much, I was a total ass.”

Ben and Noah nodded—until their wives elbowed them.

Brandon ran a hand through his hair, and then he straightened his shoulders and looked only at Beth.

“I'd like to say, with what little dignity I can muster, that I'm the one who was never good enough for you. In the long run, I'll make more money than Levi, but I don't have half his character, honor, or fortitude. In every way that counts, he's a much better man than me.”

Shocked at hearing such a statement, especially when he'd expected Brandon to be schmoozing his way back into Beth's good graces, Levi snorted. “That's bullshit.”

Brandon jerked around to face him. Beth and her family looked at him.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Brandon said, “No, it's true, Levi. You've propped me up so damn many times I've lost count. But you've never needed propping. Not once.”

“Levi is a rock,” Beth said with a smile, and Brandon nodded.

“You've had your difficulties, Levi, but you always work through them.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and held them out in a conciliatory way. “Not to get sappy, but I admire and respect you more than any man I know. If I have to lose Beth—”

Levi took a step forward. “You have to.”

Noah and Ben chuckled at that.

“—then I'm glad I'm losing her to you. The one thing I remember saying that was true, is that she deserves the best.” Brandon nodded. “That would be you.”

Ben cursed, and when everyone looked at him, he shook his head. “I really wanted to hate the guy, you know? But I think his reasoning is starting to make sense to me.”

Both Brandon and Levi grinned.

Turning back to Beth, Brandon said, “I think I knew all along that we weren't really meant to be. But you're a special woman, and even if I wasn't the right man, I hated to lose you.”

“Too late,” Levi said.

Brandon smiled, and turned back to Levi. “I concede the loss. And if you'll have me, that is, if Beth doesn't mind, I'd still like to be your best friend.”

When Levi looked at Beth, she nodded.

He held out a hand to Brandon. “Still friends.”

Brandon accepted the handshake with huge relief. “Not to push my luck, but I'd be honored to be the best man.”

Levi grinned. “Your friends won't have a clue what to think.”

“Yeah,” Brandon agreed, a little sad, a little amused, and happy for them. “But who cares?”

Beth said, “Now wait a minute.”

Levi cut her off, saying to one and all, “She's still resisting the idea of marrying me. But I love her enough that I won't give up.”

Beth's mouth fell open. “What did you say?”

Levi cocked a brow. “I'm not giving up.”

“No,” she gasped out, “the other part. About loving me.”

He shrugged. “I love you. But you already knew that.”

She shook her head. “No. I knew you wanted to marry me. But I wasn't sure why—”

Rolling his eyes, Levi said, “Maybe it's time for us to have that long talk.” He took Beth's hand and pulled her from her seat. To her family, he said, “Excuse us.”

As Levi turned them away, Brandon dropped into her seat. Levi heard him say, “I know I don't deserve it, but I would sure love a cup of coffee.”

Grinning, Levi tugged Beth through the mob of diners, out of the dining room, and down the hallway until he reached the privacy of their room.

Beth pulled back. “What are you doing?”

After unlocking the door, Levi urged her inside. “I'm going to convince you how much I love you.”

Beth closed the door herself, and then licked her lips. Levi saw the start of a smile.

“How much?” she asked.

He cupped her face and held her still. “More than anything else in the whole world.”

“Okay.” She gave in to her smile. “Since when?”

“Since forever. Since I first met you.”

“So even though we only got together because I offered myself to you—”

Levi shook his head in disbelief. “Think about it. Would I have run the risk of ruining a fifteen-year friendship just for a piece of ass?”

She started to chuckle. “Um—”

“And remember,” Levi said, “at the time, I didn't even know what a hot piece you'd be.”

“Levi!”

He laughed, too, knowing by the glow in her face and the love in her eyes that he'd won. “I did know, however, that you were smart and sweet and kind and caring and dependable and loyal—”

“Levi?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, too.”

Finally, she admitted it. “I know.”

Beth laughed. “And I'll marry you.”

He slumped against her. “'Bout damn time, woman.”

Beth threw her arms around him. “I guess I get my do-over after all.”

“Your do-over?”

“A chance to change the things I did wrong.” She kissed him. “At first I wanted a chance to do over that weekend with you.”

Levi frowned at her.

“But now I know that I get to do over a real mistake.”

He crowded her back against the door. “Your engagement to the wrong man?”

“Yes.

He cupped her chin and turned her face up to his. “And marriage to the right man?”

She nodded. “Thank you, Levi, for the very best Christmas present ever.”

Karen Kelley

Jeremy Hunter yanked his pillow over his head, but the incessant ringing didn't stop. God, every buzz was like someone zapping his brain with an electrical current.

Damn, what did he drink last night?

He vaguely remembered a party, alcohol—lots of alcohol—a taxi ride home, and some chick name Cecily. Correction, not a chick. Cecily had been all woman, all curves, and all consuming.

That is, if the alcohol he'd drunk hadn't fogged his brain.

The ringing stopped. Good.

The pounding began.

Followed by a soft moan. “I think someone's at your door,” a feminine voice softly slurred beside him.

He tossed the pillow off the bed and rose on one elbow. Dark blonde hair obscured most of her face except for full pouty lips. His gaze moved lower. Her other attributes were very nice, too…until she pulled the cover up, pushed the hair out of her eyes, and met his gaze.

“Cecily?”

“Andrea.” She yawned. “Would you mind letting the person at the door inside? I've got a terrible headache.”

He frowned as he dragged himself out of bed, wondering what had become of Cecily.

The pounding grew louder.

The clothes he'd worn last night weren't in sight. Nothing. Not even one sock on the floor. First Cecily and now his clothes. It was a conspiracy. He finally grabbed a towel off the back of a chair, slung it around his hips, and knotted it.

As he walked through the living room of his apartment, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten. Who the hell hammered on his door at this time of the morning? They'd better have a damn good reason.

He jerked the door open. “Yeah?”

Monty, his agent, stood on the other side of the threshold. Short, bald, and unassuming Monty. Most people in the business knew not to underestimate him. The ones who did soon learned their mistake. Right now, he didn't look happy. What was new?

“Is this how you usually open the door? Practically naked.”

“No, I thought I would grab a towel and show you a little respect. Respect—you do know the meaning of the word? It's a hell of a lot more than you're giving me. You know I don't get up before noon.”

“I brought you the morning tabloid. I thought you might enjoy reading it since you're the cover story—again.”

“Coffee first.” He turned and walked toward the kitchen.

“I'll fix the coffee, you get dressed.”

He nodded and made his way back to his room. He needed time to get his head on straight, anyway. It must be bad for Monty to come over first thing. Damn, what had he done now? Or should he ask himself what
hadn't
he done?

He was so sick of his life being an open book. Didn't reporters have anything better to do than hound his every move? Apparently not.

He grabbed a pair of jeans, slipped his feet into loafers and washed his face before pulling on a shirt. The coffee was ready when he returned to the galley kitchen, the rich aroma wafting up to him. He poured a cup. Monty followed him to the living room without saying a word.

There was a lump on his couch. A sheet covered lump. He nudged it. One corner of the sheet moved. Red hair and a face appeared.

“Cecily?”

Even her smile looked hungover. “You were great last night.” She belched and pulled the sheet back over her head.

At least he was great. He looked up and caught Monty's look of disapproval, then headed for the patio. He hoped there wasn't another female sleeping it off on one of the lounge chairs.

Monty hadn't said another word.

Not good.

He slid the glass door open and stepped outside into the California sun and the sharp December bite in the air. Good, maybe it would help clear his mind.

He pulled out a chair at the table and sat. Monty took the one opposite him, tossing the tabloid on the table. He glanced at it without picking it up. A dark grainy picture of himself…and Cecily, stared back.

“They caught my bad side again,” he said.

“They're thinking of using DiCaprio for the lead.”

His jaw twitched. He slowly raised his cup and took a drink. “I thought it was a done deal.”

“Not after last night. The studio exec called me this morning. The big guy is royally pissed. He wants a cleaner image to play the lead. Damn it, Jeremy, this is supposed to be a Christmas picture. He wants it to have meaning.”

“And?” He could feel the blood coursing through his veins, the pounding of his heart. Everything around him seemed to move in slow motion. Outwardly, he knew nothing showed. The benefits of being one of the highest paid actors in the business.

“How the hell do you think you can pull off the part of a traveling preacher if you're out whoring and drinking all night?” he countered.

“Because I'm damn good at what I do.”

Monty shook his head. “Not this time. And if you haven't noticed, your ratings are dropping. You shot up quick enough, but now you're spiraling downward like a bottle rocket on the fourth of July, and it's only a matter of time before your light fizzles.” He shook his head. “You haven't even researched this part. You're a playboy. You'll never pull it off.” His laugh was bitter.

Jeremy abruptly stood, his chair scraping along the tiles. He walked to the edge of the balcony, lost in his thoughts. What did they expect when the only roles he got were fluff? He was only acting the part.

He gripped the rail until his knuckles turned white. They said he was the wild child of the cinema but they had created him.

And he'd let them.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the pure salt air. When he opened them, he stared at the magnificence before him. There was something powerful about the waves as they crashed against the rocks, white spray shooting upward.

There was a time in his life when he would've sold his soul to the devil for all this. Maybe that's what had happened. The devil was calling in his marker.

This was the role of a lifetime. He'd known it as soon as he'd read the script. It had raw substance, something he could sink his teeth into, unlike the parts he'd played up until now.

He wanted it and he was willing to go to any length to get it. “What do I have to do?”

“I'm not sure you can do anything.”

Jeremy turned. “Then why am I paying you?”

Monty hesitated. “There is one thing the executive said would save your ass, but you're not going to like it.”

“I'll do it.”

“Even if it means going incognito?” He waved his arm, encompassing his surroundings. “Leaving all this and living the part. Changing your looks. Becoming the character, becoming Trey Jones.”

“That's crazy. How the hell can I pretend to be a preacher? And the press will find out.”

“We'll put out a release that you've gone to the south of France to study for your upcoming part.”

“People won't buy that I'm a traveling preacher.”

“How can you sell it on the screen if you can't fool a few people in the public?” He shrugged. “I wouldn't blame you if you turned it down. Pretending to be a traveling man of the gospel would be a stretch. A long one. You asked, I told you, and that's why you pay me.”

Monty looked pointedly toward the patio doors, toward where Cecily was sleeping on the other side. Jeremy crammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His gaze fell to the terra-cotta tiles, the brown-grout lines.

“They did offer you the role of the brother,” Monty mentioned.

His head jerked up. “Supporting actor? I don't think so.” Monty was good at pushing all the right buttons. “When do I leave?”

 

Bailey tossed back the rest of her drink. This was the fix she needed.

“Want a refill?” Kathy asked.

She had to think about it. She was already at her limit.

“I'll make it a triple,” Kathy added temptingly.

“You're killing me. Besides, I really need to get home.” Bailey couldn't help eyeing the tubs of ice cream, though. No, one double chocolate raspberry swirl malt was all the indulgent calories she needed this week—shoot, this month.

As if that was going to happen. Her mother had already started her Christmas baking. Pure torture. But the malt had been sooo good and she'd really needed a chocolate fix.

Being a fourth-grade teacher was not easy sometimes. Why hadn't she chosen something less taxing? Like brain surgeon, astronaut, tightrope walker, skydiver…

But school was out for the next two weeks! She loved Christmas vacation.

The roar of a motorcycle caught her attention, drawing her back to the present. She swiveled her stool toward the door as the man on the cycle pulled under the awning of the burger shop.

“Someone passing through,” Kathy mumbled. “I don't know anyone in Two Creeks with a cycle besides my brother.”

“Not just any cycle. That's a Harley.” A big black Harley. She sighed. There was just something about a motorcycle that made her want to straddle the leather seat and feel all that power nestled between her legs.

When she'd only mentioned that she'd like to have a motorcycle, her brother almost had a coronary. Her sister-in-law had liked the idea. But Wade had raised such a fuss that she'd given in and bought a cute little sports car instead. Man, could it corner. Not that she'd tell her brother.

But this bike was sweet. The guy getting off it wasn't bad either. She couldn't see his face very well because of the dark sunglasses and helmet he wore. But the black-leather pants and jacket were sinfully sexy. The bad girl inside her emerged thinking all kinds of naughty thoughts.

Man, she really must be bored. It was just like she'd told the people of Two Creeks at the last community meeting; they needed to bring in new business and more people or the town was going to die.

Point in fact, she was lusting over the stranger and he was probably ugly as sin…

He removed his helmet and placed it on the back of his bike, then combed his fingers through thick black hair. When he turned around, she got the full effect of him. At least six foot two inches of pure male testosterone at it's finest.

Her breath caught in her throat. Everything about him was dark: his tan, the stubble of beard…his eyes. He was hell on wheels and Bailey knew she'd burn for the kind of thoughts she was having. Oh, baby, she could already feel the heat.

“Nice package,” Kathy choked out.

“You're engaged.”

“Am I? To who?”

“It's whom and his name is Chad, remember him?”

She sighed. “Vaguely.”

They looked at each other and chuckled.

“Looks like the eye candy is hungry. I'd love to be his next meal. Maybe I have enough time to scribble my name on the menu.
TODAY'S SPECIAL
:
KATHY
…
NO CHARGE
”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Just act natural.”

“Then you think throwing myself at his feet would be a little too much?”

Bailey smothered a laugh. “Be good, and get me a soda—diet.”

“I thought you had to get home?”

She stuck her tongue out but quickly straightened in her seat as the bell jingled over the door. She didn't look toward it. She didn't have to. Bailey felt him. Her body tingled with awareness. It was a sin for a man to look that damn sexy.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him slide onto a stool. There were only two between them.

“What's good?” he asked, words raspy, rough.

She quickly took a drink of the soda Kathy handed her, hoping the cold drink would cool her down. Didn't work, darn it.

Kathy leaned against the counter. “I make a mean burger—best in town.”

Bailey swiveled slightly in her seat and studied him, then frowned. He looked familiar. Why did he look familiar? Had she dreamed about him? Maybe he was her soul mate.

If she believed in that sort of thing—and she didn't. But still…

“You remind me of someone…” Her brow furrowed.

He looked right at her and she almost had an orgasm. His intense gaze stripped her clothes away as it meandered over her body. Her nipples tightened. Oh, man, he started an ache deep inside her. She needed a fire extinguisher!

“Jeremy Hunter?” he supplied. “I hear that a lot.”

“Huh?”

He grinned, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on her. “People tell me I look like Jeremy Hunter, the actor.”

She mentally shook her head to clear it, not sure exactly what had passed between them. Yeah right, she knew exactly what had happened. Testosterone had crashed into estrogen and there'd been a sexual explosion.

She drew in a deep breath. “Except he has blue eyes and brown hair.” She studied him—which wasn't hard at all. “And you have a thin scar down the side of your face.”