Kissing Santa, A Clover Park Novella (Clover Park, Book 4) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) (12 page)

Rico frowned. “Well, what about what she said?”

“That’s harsh too. Damn, you guys are mean.” He ate another pretzel. “I don’t envy you.”

Rico’s spirits sank to an all-new low. “Me neither.”

They drank beer in silence. Trav watched some hockey on TV while Rico stared at the bar, feeling hopeless. Dammit. Why did he have to fall in love with the most difficult woman on earth? It made no sense. He was an idiot. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Trav’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Rico had no idea what he’d just said.

“What?” Rico asked.

Trav raised a brow. “I said, if you didn’t lie, why would she say you were deceitful?”

Rico played with the label on his beer bottle. There was no way he was going to admit to stealing moves from chick flicks and romance novels. “I dunno.”

“Uh-huh.”

Rico rolled his neck to relieve the tension there. “I
might
know.”

Trav grinned. “Do tell.”

“I’m not telling you that shit.”

“Ooo-hoo-hoo, this just gets better and better.” Trav chortled.

“Shut it.”

Rico went back to his beer. He watched some game highlights, but all he could think about was Samantha. He’d lost her. There was no way she’d give him another chance. Nearly every date had ended in disaster. There was no hope. Zero. He blew out a breath of frustration and dropped his head in his hands.

Trav took pity on him. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. Just apologize for whatever you did, tell her you won’t do it again, and ask her for another chance.”

He was supposed to apologize for trying to make her dreams come true, promise not to do it again, and ask for another chance? Why in the world would she give him a second chance for that? She should want him to make her dreams come true. That’s what didn’t make any sense.

Women were so damn confusing.

~ ~ ~

Two days later, Rico mailed all the romance novels to Elena with a note: These were no help at all. He couldn’t stand looking at them for one more minute. They taunted him with their hot sex and happy endings. He got in his truck and headed for home. Samantha wanted him to be himself? He was a guy who liked to drink beer and watch the Knicks. Was that what she wanted? A guy date, take it or leave it?

Wait a minute. She said she wanted him to be himself. He found himself turning around, heading toward Eastman, heading toward Samantha. What did he have to lose?

Rico didn’t bother with flowers or rehearsing the right lines or any of that stuff he’d thought he needed to impress Samantha. She wanted him to be the real Rico, then that’s what she’d get. He parked and walked quickly to the front door before he could lose his nerve. He knocked and waited, hoping it would be Samantha who answered the door.

“Hello, Rico,” Mrs. Dixon said with a big smile on her face. “I had a feeling you would show up here. Samantha is very cranky. I’m sure you can help cheer her up.”

“I’ll try,” he said.

“Sam, Rico is here for you!” her mother called up the stairs.

“Tell him to go away!” Samantha hollered.

Rico frowned. Mrs. Dixon huffed and marched over to the foot of the stairs. “You get down here right now and listen to what he has to say.”

“He’s a big phony, Ma!” Samantha hollered. “Tell him I said that.”

“I can hear you!” Rico hollered up the stairs.

Mr. Dixon appeared in the foyer and came over to shake Rico’s hand. “How ya doing?”

Rico shifted uncomfortably as he stood with the parents of the woman he loved, who was doing a very good job of making him feel lower than a damned cockroach. “I could be better. Can you get Samantha to come downstairs?”

Mr. Dixon held up a finger and walked upstairs.

Mrs. Dixon smiled at him. “So how is your mother?”

“She’s well, thank you.” He could hear arguing upstairs. “How are you?”

She rocked back and forth on her heels. “Good, good. Don’t worry. She’ll come down. She's just very stubborn.”

“No kidding,” Rico muttered.

Finally Samantha walked downstairs with her father right behind her, and Rico’s heart thumped like crazy. She wore jogging pants and a baggy sweatshirt and her hair up in a messy ponytail.

She’d never looked more beautiful.

~ ~ ~

“Okay, I’m listening,” Samantha said, arms crossed against him. She wouldn’t be taken in by this phony one more time. She couldn’t believe she’d kept going out with him even after all their fights and disastrous dates. After moping around the last few days, she’d vowed to be smart about romance and not just drift off to la-la dreamland, thinking she could have the kind of love you only found in fiction.

Her parents stepped back but didn’t leave the room.

“Should we go somewhere more private?” Rico asked.

“Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of them.” She looked over to her parents. “I want them to hear what I’m dealing with.”

Her parents looked at Rico eagerly.

Rico cleared his throat, looking pained. “Okay, here goes. I tried to impress you with all that romance stuff because I thought that’s what you wanted, but you were right, that isn’t me.”

Samantha hmphed. “I knew it!”

“But this is me,” Rico said. “I really want you in my life. You’re all I can think about. Whether we’re getting along or fighting, you’re always right here.” He tapped his head. “I thought I was having a heart attack because whenever I got near you my heart flip-flopped or squeezed or skipped a beat.” He rubbed his chest. “Even now it’s like a racehorse. It’s love. The doc told me.”

Samantha’s brows shot up. She uncrossed her arms. Was there something wrong with his heart, or was he saying what she thought he was saying? She studied his expression. He looked totally and completely sincere. She felt herself weakening.

“You went to the doctor?” she asked. That must have been an awkward conversation.

“Shhh!” her mother scolded. “Go on, Rico.”

He took a deep breath. “I love your smile, your talent, your goodness…” He paused, and Samantha found she could barely breathe because this felt real—this love he was trying so hard to express. He spread his arms wide. “This is the real me talking to the real you. So take it or leave it, the real me just wants to hang out at a bar with you, drink beer, eat wings, and watch the Knicks.”

“I love the Knicks,” Samantha said softly.

His eyes lit up, full of hope. “Really?”

She nodded as hope surged through her too.

He smiled. “I’ve never done that on a date before. I’m not trying to impress you. I’m letting you see the real me, and I hope you’ll like who that is.”

Samantha and her mother sighed at the same time.

“Don’t leave the guy hanging,” her father said.

Samantha laughed. “I’d love to watch the Knicks with you.”

“I knew it! Mothers know.” Her mother shook her finger. “I told you! Mothers know.”

Samantha rolled her eyes; then she crossed to Rico and took his hand, not even caring she was wearing her old ratty comfortable clothes. If he could be himself, so could she. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Twelve

Samantha got into Rico’s truck, smiling to herself. Finally she was getting the real Rico. And she liked what she’d seen so far.

He got in and turned the ignition. “For a minute there I thought I was going on a date with your whole family.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry I made you say all that in front of them.”

He pulled out into the street. “You’re forgiven only because you’re here with me now. Besides, I’m sure you’ll run the gauntlet with my mother. My dad’s no problem. He likes everyone.”

She suddenly got worried. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

He squeezed her hand. “Yeah, she’ll like you. She’ll want to check your permanent record for red flags but…” He looked over and grinned. “Any history of streaking? Please say yes.”

She laughed. “No. I never went skinny dipping either.”

“We can fix that. I’ve got a tub.”

“Tell me it’s not a hot tub. That would be just so—”

“Play-uh,” he sang. “No, it’s not a hot tub. It’s a—” he lowered his voice comically “—
love tub
for special people named Samantha Dixon.”

“You’re too much.”

“You’ll let me know,” he said in a husky voice that gave her a thrill.

She crossed her legs, and he laughed. “Payback is a bitch,” she told him.

He put a warm hand on her leg. “I can hardly wait.”

When they arrived at Garner’s Sports Bar & Grill, Samantha was starting to feel like she was on a first date without all the nerves. The restaurant was warm and welcoming, decorated with greenery and tiny multicolored Christmas lights strung along the ceiling. Rico seemed to relax the moment they left her parents’ house. He was warm and funny, and if he’d been like this from the beginning, she would’ve fallen head over heels.

As it was, he had her at doctor. She couldn’t believe he went to the doctor for a diagnosis of love. She’d fallen for him too. No man had ever tried so damn hard in so many crazy ways just to be with her.

The wings arrived, and they each took one, hot and spicy and crispy, just like she liked them.

Rico wiped his mouth with a napkin. “So how do you like Garner’s?”

“I love it. Good wings too.”

They watched the Knicks, ate hot wings, drank cold beer, and Samantha had never had a better date.

Rico turned to her after they finished the wings. “You’re a mess.” His thumb wiped at her chin, then her lower lip. “Hell, I’ll just kiss it off.” He leaned over and kissed her, drawing her lower lip into his mouth, sucking it. Heat pooled through her body. She kissed him back, her hands gripping his shirt, and the kiss got hot and heavy fast.

He pulled back. “You want to get out of here?”

She jumped off the bar stool. “Yes.”

They walked out of the bar holding hands. The night air was cold and crisp. Main Street was lit with white lights that arched over the street. More white lights wrapped along the trees that lined both sides of the street.

“It’s so beautiful here at night,” she said.

Rico stopped and gave her a quick kiss. “You’re so beautiful. And that’s not a line.”

“Oh, Rico!” She threw her arms around him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her around.

She laughed. He set her down but didn’t release her. He just stood there, his arms around her waist, smiling down at her.

“I shouldn’t have complained so much about your romance stuff,” she said. “You meant well.”

“No, you were right. I was borrowing lines and faking my way through. But now it’s from the heart.”

She swooned. Then they were kissing again, right on Main Street, under the twinkling white lights.

He pulled back with a groan. “My place?”

She beamed at him. “Yes.”

They walked hand in hand to his truck. He did the whole open door, shut it gently behind her thing, and she was glad to see that his manners were here to stay. It was so gallant.

His place was a short drive away. Once he unlocked the door to his apartment, she threw herself at him, and he staggered back.

“You don’t waste any time,” he said with a grin.

She tried to climb him like a fire pole. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

“Samantha?”

She kissed her way up his neck. “Hmm?”

His warm, rough hands ran up and down her bare back under her sweatshirt. “I want you so bad but…” He trailed off as she sucked on his earlobe.

“You got me,” she said before kissing him again.

He groaned into her mouth and hauled her against him. But he wasn’t moving to the bedroom or getting naked, and that was a problem.

She pulled away and met his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He flashed a quick grin. “Nothing, believe me. I’m ready.” They both glanced down at the massive erection bulging through his jeans. “But I wrote you a song, and I really wanted you to hear it before we…make love.”

Make love. Omigod, could he be more sweet? She ran to the sofa and sat down. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

He headed over to his guitar, and she sighed happily. The guitar playing was real, and now she was going to get her very first serenade dedicated to her.

He settled on the sofa next to her and strummed a few notes, tuning it. He was so sexy when he bent over his guitar like that. She waited for his melodic voice to sing to her in Spanish.

Beh-beh-beh
. He glanced at her as he started to play.
Beh-beh-beh
. The beat was fast and loud. She sat up straighter. Rock ’n’ roll. Then he belted out the lyrics:

“Love hit me like heart failure

I thought I was gonna die

Samantha! Samantha!”

She slapped a hand over her mouth, torn between crying and laughing. This wasn’t like any of his other songs. Her eyes welled up. That was exactly what made it so special.

He went on:

“Things were tough

Then they were rough

Samantha! Samantha!

What would I do without a girl like you

Can’t wait to find out what’s in store

Samantha! Samantha!”

Her heart filled with love as he belted out her name, pouring his heart and soul into the song. He finished and turned to her. She bit her lip to keep from crying.

“Did you like it?” he asked.

She nodded and felt a tear slip away. “I loved it.”

“What’s wrong? You’re crying.” He set the guitar down and pulled her into his arms.

She smiled through her tears. “I’m just happy.”

He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb, kissed her tenderly, then folded her in a tight embrace. Her whole body relaxed in his warm, strong arms.

He pulled back to look at her, stroking her cheek. “Okay?”

She nodded. “What else did you learn from those romance novels?”

He barked out a laugh. “What are you into? Werewolf style, old-school Scottish, billionaire dominance, low-down country, reformed bad boy—”

She lifted a finger. “I’ll take that last one.”

He grinned. “You’re looking at him.”

“You are
not
bad.”

“You said I was a player.”

“You were!”

“Not anymore.” He kissed her gently. “Just you, Samantha, only you.”