Читать книгу Bring Me A Maverick For Christmas! - Brenda Harlen, Brenda Harlen - Страница 10
ОглавлениеShe turned her back to give Bailey access to the zipper, but not before he saw her roll her eyes in response to his comment. “Do you have to work at being offensive or is it a natural talent?”
“It’s a defense mechanism,” he said, surprising them both with his honesty. “I screwed up in there—I know I did. I knew I would. That’s why I didn’t want to put on the stupid suit and pretend to be jolly.”
“You ever try actually being jolly instead of just pretending?” she asked, as he tugged on the zipper pull.
“Yeah, but it didn’t work out so well.”
“I’m sorry.” She pulled her arms out of the sleeves and let the bodice fall forward, then stepped out of the skirt to reveal her own clothes: a snug-fitting scoop neck sweater in Christmas red over a pair of skinny jeans tucked into knee-high boots.
A definite hottie with curves that should have warning signs.
He looked away from the danger zone, pushing the suspenders off his shoulders and stepping out of Santa’s oversize pants, leaving him clad in a long-sleeve Henley and well-worn jeans. He picked up the flannel shirt he’d shed before donning the Santa coat and put it on over the Henley.
She neatly folded her dress and tucked it into a shopping bag. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, unable to shake the feeling that, though he couldn’t think of her name, he was certain he knew her from somewhere.
Before he could ask her if they’d met before, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
They both said it at the same time, then she smiled at him, and that easy curve of her lips only increased her hotness factor.
The door opened and Annie poked her head in.
“Oh, Serena, I’m so glad to see that you made it.”
“I did. Sorry I was almost late. There was some excitement at the clinic this morning.”
Serena.
Clinic.
The pieces finally clicked into place and Bailey realized why the substitute Mrs. Claus looked familiar. She was Serena Langley, a vet tech at the same clinic where his sister-in-law was the receptionist.
“What kind of excitement?” Annie asked, immediately concerned.
“Alistair Warren brought in a fat stray that he found under his porch. The cat turned out not to be fat but pregnant and gave birth to nine kittens.”
“Nine?” Annie echoed.
Serena nodded. “Exam Room Three is going to be out of commission for a while, because Brooks doesn’t want to disturb the new mom or her babies.”
“I can’t wait to see them,” Annie enthused. “But right now, I want to hear about the substitute Santa’s visit with the local scout troop so that I can report back to his more-sick-than-jolly brother.”
Bailey turned to Serena again. Truthfully, his gaze had hardly shifted away from her since they’d entered the dressing room. He’d thought it was because he was trying to figure out where they might have crossed paths before, but even with that question now answered, he found his attention riveted on her.
He waited for Serena to say that the substitute Santa had sucked and that the event had been a disaster—although maybe not in terms quite so blunt and harsh. At the very least, he anticipated her telling his sister-in-law that Bailey had screwed up and almost made a kid cry. And he couldn’t have disputed either of those points, because they were both true.
But Serena seemed content to let him respond to the inquiry, and he did so, only saying, “It was...an experience.”
His sister-in-law’s brows lifted. “I’m not sure how to interpret that.”
Bailey looked at Mrs. Claus again.
“Everything went well,” Serena assured her friend.
Annie exhaled, obviously relieved. “Of course, I knew the two of you would be able to pull it off.”
“If you were so confident, you wouldn’t have rushed over here to interrogate us,” he pointed out. “Although I suspect your concerns were really about Santa and not Mrs. Claus.”
“Well, you were the more reluctant substitute,” she told him. “Serena didn’t hesitate when I asked her to fill in.”
“I’m always happy to help a friend,” Serena said. “But now I should be on my way.”
“What’s your hurry?” Annie asked.
“I’m not in a hurry,” she denied. “It’s just that I left early this morning and...well, you know that Marvin doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”
She seemed a little embarrassed by this admission, or so he guessed by the way her gaze dropped away.
Bailey frowned, wondering about this Marvin and the nature of his relationship with Serena. Was he her husband? Boyfriend? How did he express his disapproval of her absence? Did he give her the cold shoulder when she got home? Or did he have a hot temper?
The possibility roused his ire. Lord knew he wasn’t without faults of his own and tried not to judge others by their shortcomings, but he had no tolerance for men who bullied women or children.
“You worry too much about Marvin,” Annie chided.
“You know I can’t stand it when he looks at me with those big sad eyes.”
“I know you let him use those big sad eyes to manipulate you,” Annie said. “You need to stand firm and let him know he’s not the boss of you.”
Bailey didn’t think his sister-in-law should be so quick to disregard her friend’s concerns. No one knew what went on behind closed doors of a relationship.
“Is Marvin your...husband?” Bailey asked Serena.
In response to his question, Annie snickered—inappropriately, he thought—and Serena’s cheeks flushed with color as she shook her head.
“No, he’s my, uh, bulldog.”
“Your bulldog,” he echoed.
She nodded, the color in her cheeks deepening.
Well, the big sad eyes comment made a lot more sense to him now. As the humor of the situation became apparent, he felt his own lips curve.
“He’s a rescue,” she explained. “And very...needy.”
“Only because you let him be,” Annie said. “Not to mention that you have a doggy door, so he can go in and out as required.”
“Well, yes,” Serena admitted. “But he still doesn’t like to be alone for too long.”
Which led Bailey to believe that there wasn’t anyone else at home—husband or boyfriend—to put the dog out or deal with his neediness.
Not that it mattered, because he wasn’t interested in any kind of romantic relationship with his sister-in-law’s friend and colleague.
Was he?
“I hope Danny is feeling a lot better before Tuesday,” Annie said as she picked up the bags containing the costumes.
The worry was evident in her friend’s voice, compelling Serena to ask, “What’s happening on Tuesday?”
“We’re supposed to play Santa and Mrs. Claus for a visit to the elementary school.”
Which gave Annie’s husband only two days to recuperate from whatever had laid him up.
“I’d be happy to fill in again,” Serena immediately offered.
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Annie said. “And such a weight off my shoulders to not have to worry about finding a replacement at the last minute again. Thank you both so much.”
“Both?” Bailey echoed. “Wait! I never—”
But his sister-in-law didn’t pause long enough to allow him to voice any protest. “In that case, I’ll leave the costumes with you and just pop over to Daisy’s to pick up some soup for Danny. Fingers crossed, he’ll be able to keep it down.”
“—agreed to anything,” he continued.
Of course, Annie was already gone, leaving Serena and Bailey alone again.
She wasn’t surprised when he turned toward her, a deep furrow between his brows. “I never agreed to anything,” he said again.
“I know, but Annie probably couldn’t imagine you’d object to doing a favor for your brother,” she said reasonably.
“Another favor, you mean.”
“Was today really so horrible?”
“That’s not the point,” he said. “But you’re the type of person who’s always the first to volunteer for any task, aren’t you?”
She shrugged.
It was true that she hadn’t hesitated when Annie asked her to fill in as Mrs. Claus. Although she generally preferred the company of animals to people, she was always happy to help a friend. And when she’d acceded to the request, it had never occurred to her to ask or even wonder about the identity of the man playing Santa Claus.
But even if Annie had told her that it was Bailey Stockton, Serena wouldn’t have balked. Because how could she know that she’d have such an unexpected visceral reaction to her friend’s brother-in-law?
After all, this was hardly their first meeting. She’d seen him at the clinic—and even once or twice around town, at Crawford’s General Store or Daisy’s Donut Shop. He was an undeniably handsome man. Of course, as far as she could tell, all the Stocktons had been genetically blessed, but there was something about Bailey that set him apart.
Maybe it was the vulnerability she’d glimpsed in his eyes. It was the same look of a puppy who’d torn up the newspaper and only realized after the fact that he’d done something wrong. Not that she was really comparing Bailey Stockton to a puppy, but she could tell that Bailey had felt remorseful as soon as he’d agreed with Owen’s assessment that the holidays sucked.
Serena knew as well as anyone that Christmas wasn’t all gingerbread and jingle bells, but over the years, she’d learned to focus on happy memories and embrace the spirit of the season.
But now that she and Bailey were no longer surrounded by kids pumped up on sugar and excitement about seeing Santa, now that it was just the two of them, he didn’t seem vulnerable at all. He was all man. And every womanly part of her responded to his nearness.
When he’d unzipped her dress, he’d been doing her a favor. There had certainly been nothing seductive about the action. But she’d been aware of his lean hard body behind her, and his closeness had made her heart pound and her knees tremble. And although she was wearing a long-sleeved sweater and jeans beneath the costume, she’d felt the warmth of his breath on the nape of her neck as the zipper inched downward, and a shiver had snaked down her spine.
While she was wearing the costume, she could be Mrs. Claus and play the role she needed to play. But now that the costume had been packed away, she was just Serena Langley again—a woman who didn’t know how to chat and flirt with men. In fact, she was completely awkward when it came to interacting with males of the human species, so she decided to do what she always did in uncomfortable situations: flee.
But before she could find the right words to extricate herself, Bailey spoke again.
“And what if I have plans for Tuesday afternoon?” he grumbled. “Not that Annie even considered that possibility.”
“If you have plans, then I’ll find somebody else to fill in,” she said.
In fact, that might be preferable, because being in close proximity to Bailey was stirring feelings...desires...that she didn’t want stirred. And while she liked the idea of a boyfriend who might someday turn into a husband, her track record with men was a bunch of false starts and incomplete finishes.
Well, not really a bunch. Barely even a handful. But the number wasn’t as important as the fact that, at the end of the day, she was alone.
“Do you have other plans?” she asked.
“No,” he reluctantly admitted. “But that’s not the point.”
“If you don’t want to help out, say so,” she told him.
“I just don’t think I’m the best choice to fill the big guy’s boots,” he said.
“You managed okay today.”
“I’m not sure Owen would agree,” he remarked dryly.
“A bump in the road,” she acknowledged. “But I’m confident you won’t make the same mistake again.”
“You’re expressing a lot of faith in a guy you don’t even know,” he warned.
“I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
Except that wasn’t really true with respect to men. Canines and felines, yes. Even birds and rodents and fish. And while most people would doubt that fish had much character, she’d had a dwarf puffer for four years that had been a true diva in every sense of the word.
“But if you really don’t want to do it, that’s fine,” she said to him now. “I’m sure I can find someone else to play Santa.”
And that would probably be a better solution all around, because he was clearly a reluctant Santa and she was reluctant to spend any more time in close proximity to a male who reminded her that she was a woman without a man in her life.
Most of the time, she was perfectly happy with the status quo. But every now and again, she found herself thinking that it might be nice to share her life with someone who could contribute something other than woofs and meows to a conversation. And then she’d force herself to go out and try to meet new people. And her hopes and expectations would be dashed by reality. Again.
But Bailey surprised her by not immediately accepting this offer. “Well, I’m not sure that what I want really matters, since Annie will tell Dan that I agreed to do it and then, if I don’t, I’ll have to explain why and how I wriggled my way out of it.”
“Are you saying that you will do it?” she asked, half hopeful, half wary.
“I guess I am,” he agreed.
“Then I guess, unless Dan makes a miraculous recovery, I’ll see you at the school on Tuesday.”
“Or maybe now,” Bailey said, as Serena moved toward the door. Because for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom, he was reluctant to watch her walk away. Or maybe he was just hungry.
She looked at him blankly. “Maybe now what?”
“Maybe I’ll see you now—which sounded much better in my head than it did aloud,” he acknowledged ruefully. “And which was supposed to be a segue into asking if you wanted to get something to eat.”
“Oh.” She seemed as uncertain about how to answer the question as he’d been to ask it.
“I was so nervous about the Santa gig that I didn’t eat lunch before, and now I’m starving.”
Serena offered him a leftover candy cane.
“I think I’m going to want something more than that,” he said. “How about you? Are you hungry?”
“Not really.”
Her stomach rumbled, calling her out on the fib.
His lips curved. “You want to reconsider your answer?”
“Apparently I am hungry,” she acknowledged, one side of her mouth turning up in a half-smile.
“Do you want to grab a bite at the Gold Rush Diner?”
She hesitated.
“It’s a simple yes or no question,” he told her.
“Like...a date?” she asked cautiously.
“No.” His knee-jerk response was as vehement as it was immediate.
Thankfully, Serena laughed, apparently more relieved than insulted by his hasty rejection of the idea.
“In that case, yes,” she told him.
Since nothing was too far from anything else in the downtown area of Rust Creek Falls, they decided to leave their vehicles parked at the community center and walk over to the diner. Even on the short walk, the air was brisk with the promise of more snow in the forecast.
The name of the restaurant was painted on the plate-glass front window of the brick building. When Bailey opened the door for Serena, a cowbell overhead announced their arrival.
Though the diner did a steady business, the usual lunch crowd had already cleared out and he gestured for her to choose from the row of vacant booths. She slid across a red vinyl bench and he took a seat opposite her.
After a quick review of the menu, Bailey decided on the steak sub and Serena opted for a house salad.
“Your stomach was audibly rumbling,” he reminded her. “I don’t think it’s going to be satisfied with salad.”
“I’m supposed to be going to a dinner and dance at Sawmill Station tonight. The salad will tide me over until then.”
“The Presents for Patriots fund-raiser,” he guessed. “I’ve been working with Brendan Tanner on that this year.”
“Dr. Smith bought a table and gave the tickets out to his staff.”
“Then I’ll see you there.”
“Unless I decide to stay home with Marvin, Molly and Max.”
“I know that Marvin’s your dog,” he said. “But Molly and Max?”
“Cat and bunny,” she admitted.
“You have a lot of pets,” he noted.
“Animals are usually better company than people.”
“Present company excluded?” he suggested dryly.
Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe it would be more accurate to say that I’m better with animals than with people.”
“You were great with the kids today,” he assured her.
“Thanks, but kids are generally accepting and easy to please. Especially kids who are focused on something else—such as seeing Santa Claus.”
“That reminds me,” he said. “What do you know about this PKT-79 all the kids were asking about?”
“It’s an upgrade of the 78 that came out in the spring.”
“The 78 what?”
“An interactive pocket toy that communicates with other similar toys,” she explained.
“And where would I find one?” he asked.
“You won’t,” she told him. “They’re sold out everywhere.”
“They can’t be sold out everywhere,” he protested, nodding his thanks to the waitress when she set his plate in front of him.
“It was a headline on my news feed last week—‘Must-Have Toy of the Year Sold Out Everywhere.’”
He shook salt over his fries as he considered this setback to his plan.
“Of course, you could always ask Santa for one,” she said, tongue in cheek, as she stabbed her fork into a tomato wedge.
“Do Santa’s elves have a production line of PKT-79s at the North Pole?”
“They might,” she allowed. “The only other option is an aftermarket retailer.”
“Like eBay?” he guessed.
She nodded. “But you won’t find one reasonably priced,” she warned. “Supply and demand.”
“I was hoping to get one for Owen,” he confided. “To give him a reason to believe that Christmas doesn’t suck.”
“And because you feel guilty?” she guessed.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Well, it’s a really nice idea,” she said. “But I promise you, he’ll have a good Christmas even without a PKT-79 under his tree.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know his family, and yes, it’s going to suck that his best friend is leaving town after the holidays, but he’ll be okay.”
“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” Bailey decided. “And since I’m apparently going to do this Santa thing again, I could use some pointers on how to interact with the kids.”
“Just try to remember what it was like when you were a kid yourself,” she suggested. “Remember the anticipation you felt in those days and weeks leading up to the holiday? All of it finally culminating in the thrill of Christmas morning and the discovery of what Santa left for you under the tree?”
But he didn’t want to think about the anticipation leading up to Christmas. He didn’t want to think about the holidays at all. Because thinking about the past inevitably brought to mind memories of his parents and all the ways that they’d made the holidays special for their family.
With seven kids to feed and clothe, Christmases were never extravagant, but there were always gifts under the tree—usually something that was needed, such as new work gloves or thermal underwear, and something that was wanted, such as a board game or favorite movie on DVD.
He was so lost in these thoughts—of what he was trying not to think about—that he almost forgot he wasn’t alone until Serena reached across the table to touch his hand.
The contact gave him a jolt, not just because it was unexpected but because it was somehow both gentle and strong—a woman’s touch. And it had been a long time since he’d been touched by a woman.
He deliberately drew his hand away to reach for his soda, sipped. “Remembering those Christmases only serves to remind me of everything I’ve lost,” he told her. “Not that I expect someone like you to understand.”
Serena sat back. “What do you mean...someone like me?”
There was a slight edge to her voice that he might have heard if he hadn’t been so caught up in his own misery. But because he was and he didn’t, he responded without thinking, “Someone who can’t know that happiness and joy can turn to grief and despair in an instant.”
She reached for her own glass, sipping her soda before she responded. “You should be careful about making assumptions about other people.” Then she meticulously folded her napkin and set it beside her plate. “Thanks for lunch, but I really do need to get home to my pets.”
And then, before he could figure out what he’d said or done to put her back up, she was gone.
