Kissing Kris Kringle (3 page)

She sighed. She’d had the hots for Kris since she was twelve and she’d caught him kissing a high school girl three years older than him on the deserted school playground. For years after, she’d daydreamed about being that girl. He’d been a bad boy even before he lost his mom and dad. Afterwards, with only his aged grandparents to rein him in, he’d been the baddest of bad boys. He used to call her Holly McHottsen and though she pretended outrage, it had thrilled her that he thought of her that way.

She didn’t look so hot these days though. She’d never managed to shed the twenty plus pounds she’d gained after giving birth to her daughter, Joy, even though five years had passed. And though she tried to hide the extra weight beneath baggy sweaters and oversized shirts, she felt it every day. Before her disastrous marriage to Martin Sloan, the world’s biggest liar and asshole, she’d been fit—if never slender—and had felt sexy when she donned her high heels and come hither face. But after the divorce and going through pregnancy and parenthood alone, how she looked hadn’t seemed that important.

But the way Kris had looked at her today. She sucked in a deep breath. It had been a long time since Holly had felt like an attractive woman, but when Kris had pressed those soft lips to her palm….

Holy cow!
She’d felt it from her ta-tas to her toes.

She gave herself a mental shake and focused on the columns on her spreadsheet. The store had dipped into the red twelve months ago after last year’s disappointing Christmas. It had never emerged and, from the looks of things, never would. Her father had retired the following January, leaving Holly holding the bag. She knew he’d never accept “the economy” as an excuse for the store failing after forty-six years of success, but even though he’d handed the reins over to Holly, he still managed to shoot down any new ideas she had for creating revenue.

With a dejected sigh, she made the announcement over the store’s PA system that closing time would be in ten minutes, turned out the lights in the office and went to make her rounds. As she shooed her last customer out, Joy came racing up, followed by her babysitter who dropped her off at the store each evening.

“Mommy, where’d you find the Santa?”

“Well, actually, he found me. Don’t you recognize him?”

Though Holly and Kris didn’t move in the same circles, he’d been making deliveries for the store since he’d started his business. Joy had met him any number of times. And though she still believed in the
real
Santa Claus, Joy knew that the jolly old St. Nick the store hired each year—well, every year but this one—was just a helper.

“Of course I recognize him. He’s
Santa
. Duh.”

And with that Joy took off at a run to wait for her turn to talk to him. Holly had her “Santa’s feeding his reindeer” sign with her and she followed her exuberant daughter to the dwindling line, surprised as she realized that not once today had the queue been empty.

Joy danced in place, so excited she could hardly contain herself. “I’m going to ask for a puppy,” she said.

Inside, Holly sighed. She knew that as soon as Joy got a peek at the cute little pup snoozing at Kris’s feet, she’d be begging for one just like it. They couldn’t afford a dog, though. Not with the fear of bankruptcy looming in the future. And Holly worked so many hours that she couldn’t, in good conscience, bring a dog into the house. Who would care for it all day?

The shadows had grown long and the night held a bite to it. No snow did not mean mild nights by any stretch. Usually this time of year, the enormous blue spruce in the courtyard would be glowing with lights and a huge star at the top. But when they’d tried to turn on the lights this year, they discovered that age had finally won out and none of them would light. Without a budget to buy new ones, without the tourists to oooh and ahhhh over the brilliant tree, there’d been nothing to do about it. They’d put up the decorations but once night fell, darkness draped the tree.

Saddened by yet another symptom of the economy, she and Joy waited their turn in Santa’s line. Just as they reached Santa’s chair, though, dazzling light exploded around them and gasping, Holly and Joy looked up at the towering pine. It sparkled with bright, twinkly lights. Even Santa seemed caught off guard by the radiant display. As they watched, a man came down a ladder at the side of the tree. Nick Santos jumped off the last rung and admired his handiwork while the small crowd milling around Santa applauded his efforts. He made a courtly bow and when he stood, his gaze seemed to snag on Kris. The two men exchanged a cryptic glance for a charged moment. Holly wondered what they were thinking, but then Nick had turned away and Joy raced up to Santa for her turn.

“What’s your puppy’s name?” she asked, bending to pet the cute little dog. Thrilled at her attention, the puppy rolled over and gave Joy his belly to rub. Holly had brought it some puppy chow and water earlier. And yes, she’d brought Kris a sandwich and coke, too. Both had been pitifully grateful.

“I haven’t thought of a good name for him yet,” Kris told her daughter. “Maybe you could help me.”

Groaning on the inside, Holly watched her daughter enchant the big man in the Santa suit as she tried to pick an appropriate name for such a cute puppy. Finally, she clapped her hands and said, “How about Cupid? Like the reindeer?”

Kris grinned at Joy. “I like it. What do you think, Cupid?”

The puppy gave a happy bark that sounded something like wruff.

Joy scooped Cupid into her arms and crawled boldly onto Santa’s lap. She was only five and she’d never been shy. Staring into his face, she said, “You’re the best Santa I’ve ever seen. Your beard doesn’t even look fake.”

Kris looked disconcerted by this statement. He reached up with tentative fingers and gave his beard a tug. Holly had to agree, it looked very real. But she’d seen Kris walking to Sugar Plum’s for coffee just yesterday and she knew that he didn’t have a beard—especially a white one. Kris usually sported a disreputable five-o’clock shadow. Coupled with his dark hair and green eyes, he was enough to make any self-respecting woman sigh.

As if hearing her thoughts, he looked at her over Joy’s head and smiled.

“Do you want to know if I’ve been naughty or nice, Santa?” Joy asked.

Kris agreed that he’d like nothing better and he listened with patience that made Holly’s heart hurt as Joy listed all of her good deeds—and, honest to a fault—all of her naughty ones too. When Kris agreed that the good far outweighed the bad, Joy beamed at him. And then came the moment Holly had dreaded. Joy made her Christmas request.

“I want a puppy just like Cupid for Christmas. Mommy says we can’t have one because she works too much and no one could take care of it. But I could. And if I had a daddy, then he could help. I mean a
real
daddy. One that cares about us.”

Holly felt tears sting her eyes. She’d tried to sugar coat the reality of Martin Sloan and pretend that though he was absent, he still loved his daughter. But Joy was a smart girl and she saw right through the bullshit. A dad that never came to see her, never called, never sent a birthday card—let alone a gift—didn’t care. All Holly could do was try her hardest to convince Joy that it was Martin’s loss, not hers.

She wiped her eyes and felt Kris’s gaze on her. “Santa will see what he can do, sweetheart,” he told her daughter.

“Does that mean I get what I want?” Joy demanded.

With equal fervor, Holly silently begged him to tell the truth and to lie. She hated that reality was so cruel, hated that even Christmas came with hollow promises. But just once she’d like her daughter’s dreams to come true.

Kris gave one of those impressive
ho ho hos
and told Joy that Santa never showed his cards before he played them. Joy wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that, but she took it with good grace, gave his puppy one last hug, and as Holly propped the sign up at Kris’s chair, she took her mother’s hand and led her in the direction of home.

Chapter Three

The minute Joy hopped off his lap, Kris knew he’d be able to get out of the stupid chair. Gingerly he stood, expecting stiff muscles and a sore ass. But actually he felt good, better than he had in years. He stood for a moment, puppy at his feet, and gazed at the tree sparkling so brightly in the night. People all around him began to emerge to join him in their silent perusal. A feeling of comfort settled deep inside. He’d known these people his whole life. Having their kids tell him all of their hopes and dreams today had made him feel a part of this community in a way he never had before.

He lifted a hand to Nick, who stood on the other side of the tree, admiring it. He wondered what had made his buddy decide to go to work on the Christmas tree today. An uneasy feeling shifted down his spine. Could Nick have had a day like Kris had, filled with the inexplicable? And what about Rudy? What had
he
been up to today?

Kris thought about trudging over to Nick and asking, but just then a woman approached his old friend and Kris decided the conversation could wait. He had more important things on his mind.

Moving quickly, Kris made a quick detour for some puppy chow and headed home.

***

Less than an hour later, Kris stood at Holly’s front door. When he’d arrived home, he’d had no troubles changing out of the Santa suit. He’d had the undeniable feeling that the suit was somehow
satisfied
with the job he’d done and had allowed him his freedom. He knew that sounded crazy, but hell…the whole day had been crazy.

He looked down at the puppy. “Okay, Cupid,” he said, grinning at Joy’s silly name for it. “Best behavior. Got it?”

“Wruff,” Cupid agreed.

Kris rang the doorbell, shifting the bag of carryout Chinese food he held as he waited. From behind the door, he heard thunderous footfalls, which had to be Joy racing and Holly calling for her to wait and not open the door.

Seconds later, he heard the lock clunk back and then a tug on the door. Another mighty tug, muffled cursing, and then more jerking that inched the shut door open a crack. His flashback on this morning’s antics froze him for a moment until it finally opened and he realized that Holly’s door legitimately stuck. He eyed the wood speculatively, seeing the jagged edges and warped shape. He could fix that with a plane and a level.

The thoughts fled though as he caught sight of Holly standing in front of him, her face in shadow. She’d changed out of her shapeless sweater and skirt and now she wore a clingy warm-up suit—the kind that came in soft fabrics and lovingly hugged every curve. Holly had many of those, soft curves that a man could get lost in. Curves he wanted pressed up against him in the worst kind of way.

“Kris?” she said in surprise, staring at him. Joy peered out from behind her.

“I don’t know about you,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “But after today, I’m starving. I brought Chinese.”

He held the bag like a peace offering. Holly stared at it and then her gaze shifted to his face. She studied him for a long, breathless second and he wished he could see her eyes. He wished he knew what she was thinking.

At last she opened the door and let him in. As Kris crossed the threshold, all he could think of was that he never wanted to leave—unless he could take both of them home with him. The ferocity of the feeling stole his breath.

“How’d you get Santa’s puppy,” Joy asked suspiciously. Obviously she hadn’t realized that it was Kris who’d been wearing the Santa suit.

“He asked me to watch the little guy while he took care of some things. He’s a busy guy, you know.”

Joy accepted this answer with a knowing nod. While she delighted in playing with the puppy, Kris followed Holly into the tiny kitchen. Her house was more a bungalow, run down and, from the looks of it, falling apart. He couldn’t help noting the many small repairs that she obviously didn’t have the time or the skill to attend to. The place bordered on ramshackle, and yet Holly’s touch was everywhere—in the festive Christmas decorations that brightened every nook and cranny, to the scent of cookies that hung in the air.

“What are you doing here, Kris?” she asked, looking nervous as she took plates down from the cupboard.

“Bearing tidings of goodwill?” he offered.

She laughed and something in his chest tightened at the play of humor on her beautiful face. He took a step closer, unable to help himself.

“You’ve never been the spirit of Christmas before,” she said, her back to him as she pulled little white cartons from the paper bag he’d brought. “You’ll have to forgive me for being skeptical of it now.”

He shrugged and took another step closer, effectively boxing her into the elbow of the counter. “When I’m standing close to you,” he said softly, taking in the scent of her, the way her blue eyes widened, the lush lips that he wanted to capture with his own. “Everything inside me feels a little scrambled. Like you’re electric and I’m about to get shocked.”

He braced both hands on either side of her and pressed closer still. “Tell me I’m the only one who feels it, and I’ll leave,” he whispered, praying she wouldn’t say those words.

For a moment, the silence hung between them. Charged. Sparking with everything he’d said…everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

And then he took matters into his own hands and he did what he’d wanted to do since he’d seen her beside his chair. Kris cupped her beautiful face and kissed her. Her lips were soft and silken, her mouth a sensuous feast. She made a small gasping sound and Kris took advantage of her parted lips to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid into the sweet hollow of her mouth and danced against hers. The contact seemed to release whatever bonds had held her back and she melted against him, pressing every soft, rounded curve into the hard planes of his body. He made a sound of such supreme satisfaction that it surprised him.