I'm Your Santa (12 page)

Read I'm Your Santa Online

Authors: Dianne Castell

BOOK: I'm Your Santa
7.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Four

Trey opened his eyes and yawned. He must've dozed. There was a tapping on the door. Ah, that's what woke him. He blinked several times as he tried to clear the fog from his brain.

What was he doing in a strange bed? He moved and bumped his foot, gritting his teeth when pain shot up his leg. His memory immediately returned. Oh, yeah, he was a preacher and he'd sprained his ankle.

Ahh, but the dream he'd been having was anything but spiritual. He glanced down. And it showed. He dragged the blanket over his nakedness, bunching it up so that nothing of importance showed, then grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it over his head before calling out, “Come in.”

The door opened and Bailey came inside, balancing a tray that contained a bowl of what looked like broth with floaties, a glass of milk—milk? ugh—and crackers. She carefully set everything down on a small table, then smiled at him.

Ah, that smile. Fresh, innocent…

“I thought you might be getting hungry.”

He snapped back to the present. Dinner? It hadn't been that long since lunch. He glanced at the clock on the wall. He'd been asleep four hours. Wow, that was some pain pill. His stomach growled to let him know exactly how long it'd been since the burger.

“I guess I slept for a while,” he said.

“That's okay. You needed to rest.” She went to the closet and brought out a TV tray, setting it up beside the bed, then moved the tray over. “It's not much. Chicken soup and crackers. I was going to make you a sandwich but I didn't have any bread.”

He didn't even want to think about Bailey and getting bred. He had to keep telling himself she was a fourth grade school teacher. Fourth grade school teachers didn't think about sex. At least, he was pretty sure they didn't.

He glanced at the bowl of yellow liquid. Noodles, those were the floaties. Five-star restaurant it wasn't, but he didn't tell her that. “It looks good.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Chicken soup? A nice juicy steak sounded a lot better.

She waited.

Okay, he'd take a few bites. He tugged the cover around him and moved slowly until he was sitting on the side of the bed. He reached for the spoon but at the last second remembered the part he was playing and closed his eyes.

“Thank you Lord for this meal I'm about to eat, and bless the wonderful woman who prepared it.”

He peeked and saw that Bailey had her eyes closed, head lowered, and her hands clasped respectively in front of her. Playing a preacher was a piece of cake.

“Amen.”

“Amen,” she murmured. Her eyes widened. “Oh, I almost forgot. Kathy's brother will bring your Harley to the house if you don't mind him driving it. He's very responsible and has a motorcycle of his own—although it's not a Harley.”

His Harley! He loved his bike. No one drove it. He wasn't about to let some country hick…

She waited patiently.

He drew in a deep breath. “How very kind. I'll say a prayer for her brother.”

She smiled. “I'll just need your keys.”

“They're in my pants pocket.”

“Oh, you don't have your pants on? Of course you don't.” Her laugh was more like a choking cough. “I don't know what I could've been thinking. I mean, you'd want to be as comfortable as possible.”

Flustered, she was something else. Innocent, sweet…crap, she was probably still a virgin and he'd embarrassed the hell out of her.

“I tossed them on the end of the bed. They must've fallen to the floor.”

She nodded and went to retrieve them. Once she had them, she reached inside the pocket and brought out the keys…and a condom.

Damn!

Her mouth dropped open. She looked at the condom, then at him, then back at the condom. When she looked at him again, her eyes had narrowed.

Think! He wasn't ready to blow this role. He drew in a deep breath.

“The poor,” he said. The poor? Crap, that was about the lamest thing he could've said.

“The poor?” Her expression changed from suspicion to confusion.

“I go to many places in my travels. Very under-privileged areas. I try to tell them about safe…sex.”

Her face fairly glowed. “That's so wonderful.” She replaced the condom and kept the keys. “I'll just get these over to Kathy's brother. Is there anything you need?”

“Only my Bible. I feel lost without it.” He devoutly lowered his gaze.

“Of course.”

She scooted out of the guesthouse. He watched through the small window as she hurried back to her house. That had been close. Had she really bought his story about giving condoms to the poor? He smiled. Pure as the driven snow.

Ah, hell, she
was
a virgin. Fourth-grade teacher, small-hick town. It all added up. The thought should've had him running as far away as he could but for some strange reason, it didn't.

He frowned. Then again, what was she? Twenty-eight or nine? Nah, no way could she be a virgin. Could she? Even if she wasn't, he'd swear she hadn't been with that many men.

He thought about how innocent and sweet she looked—and sexy. Definitely hot. He ran a hand through his hair. The doctor said at least a week or so before he'd be able to shift gears with his foot. Could he really stay celibate that long? That would be a first in many, many years.

He drew in a deep breath. Yeah, he could, because if he could fool her, then he could play the role of a preacher.

 

The evening air did nothing to cool Bailey's body heat as she hurried across the backyard to her house. She'd almost lost it when Trey said his pants must've fallen off the end of the bed. Her heart pounded just thinking about him practically naked beneath the covers. Boy, had it pounded.

She envisioned him tossing back the covers, inviting her into his bed…

Bad thoughts! Bad!

But, oh so delicious.

She went inside the house and grabbed her purse. Once she was in the car, she hit the button that lowered the window as she drove to the shop that Kathy's brother owned. Cold air swept inside sending a chilly shiver down her spine. It might've cooled her body but not her mind.

Damn, she was lusting after a preacher. She was going to hell for sure. At the very least, Santa would be putting coal in her stocking this year.

She turned the corner and pulled into the driveway. Albert must've been watching for her because he hurried out and climbed into the car.

“Hi, kiddo. It's getting colder out there.”

Some of her anxiety was swept away by his comment. He was exactly two years and twenty-eight days
younger
, but he still treated her like a favored little sister.

“Hi. Thanks for doing this,” she said.

He looked at her as if she'd just lost her mind. “You're joking right? I mean, this
is
a Harley we're talking about.”

She grinned as she headed for the burger joint. “Yeah, I know. I'd have loved to take it home but if Wade found out all hell would've broken loose.”

“That, and the fact you've never driven a motorcycle.”

She was silent. Lying didn't sit well with her.

“When?” he asked with more than a little speculation.

“College,” she finally said, breaking her silence. “A boyfriend. It wasn't a Harley but it was a pretty cool bike.” She shrugged. “Only 250cc but it was enough power to give me a buzz. Unfortunately, the boyfriend didn't. We broke up, and Mathew and the motorcycle went their own way.” It'd been nice while it lasted—the bike, not the boyfriend.

“If I'd known that's all it would take to get a date I would've let you ride my bike a long time ago.” He frowned. “Course, then I'd have to put up with…” He lowered his voice. “
The Wrath of Wade
.”

She chuckled at his dramatics.

“Nah, you're sexy and all, but not worth facing your brother. I have something against dying young, and I'm afraid Wade might just kill me.”

She sighed when the truth of what he said hit her. “Unfortunately, that's been the problem all my life. Everyone is afraid of my brother.”

“He
is
the sheriff.”

“So?”

“Does he know you have a guy living with you?”

She rolled her eyes. “He's not living with me. He's staying in my guesthouse. Besides, I'm sure Wade will check him out.”

She pulled to a stop in front of the burger shop and let Albert out.

“I'll meet you at my house.”

She made a U-turn and headed home. Just the thought of seeing Trey again sent goose bumps over her. That is, until she turned the corner that led to her house and saw the squad car parked in front.

“Great.” She pulled in the driveway. As she got out of her car, Wade was leaving the guesthouse. “Excuse me? What exactly were you doing?”

“Making sure my baby sister is safe.”

“And?”

“He checked out. He seems okay.”

“And?”

“I warned him if he hurt you in any way that I'd hunt him down and he'd wish he'd never heard the name Tanner.”

She really loved her brother—most of the time. “If you ever want me to get married then you have to stop threatening the men in my life.”

“Is he in your life?” He raised an eyebrow, studying her.

“No, and I'm not a prisoner. You're not allowed to give me the third degree.”

“Yeah, I am, because I'm your brother. Besides, I saw his bum foot. You could outrun him.”

She ignored her brother's comments as Albert roared up on the Harley, pulling beside Bailey's car.

“Sweet.” Albert turned off the engine and climbed off, stroking one hand down the body of the bike.

Wade stepped closer, nodding his head. “She's beautiful.”

“If you like motorcycles so much, then why didn't you let me get one?”

“Women don't belong on a cycle,” Wade explained, his gaze still on the bike. “Too dangerous.”

“Yeah, well don't tell Cody that.” Cody was married to Wade's best friend, Josh. Cody had an old Harley she'd actually helped restore. She was also a bounty hunter. No, Bailey had a feeling brother dear wouldn't say a word to Cody. She might just kick his butt.

“Cody is different,” he finally said.

“I refuse to argue the point.” She walked over and reached inside one of the saddlebags, didn't find what she was looking for so dug around in the other one until she felt the Bible and pulled it out. She grabbed the suitcase strapped to the back. “Trey asked for his Bible. You should've trusted
my
instincts. I know a fraud when I meet one.”

“Come on, Albert. I'll give you a ride home.” Wade looked at Bailey, then walked over and dropped a kiss on top of her head. She was five seven but he still towered over her. “I don't care that this guy checked out. If you need me, I can be here in less than five.”

It was something that he didn't boot Trey out on his butt. Wade was loosening his hold. She could probably thank Fallon for that. Wade had mellowed since he'd married.

“You're on speed dial. No worries.” She gave him a quick hug and stepped back.

She clutched the worn Bible as she watched them drive away in the patrol car. A slow smile curved her lips. Her brother was sweet—when he wasn't being an ass, that is.

She turned and sauntered toward the guesthouse. When she reached it, she tapped softly on the door.

“Come in.”

Her pulse sped up as she opened the door and stepped inside, setting his suitcase just inside the door. You'd think she'd never been around a man before. But when she looked at him, she knew she'd never been around a man who made her feel like Trey made her feel.

“Aw, you brought my Bible. Thanks.”

Bible? Bible! She was squashing it against her chest. She quickly handed it to him.

He stroked it lovingly. “We've been together for a long time,” he said softly.

She pulled a chair close and sat. “What's your favorite verse?”

He looked startled. “Why, all of them,” he finally said.

Of course. What a dumb question. He was a preacher. He wouldn't have just one favorite. “How long have you been a preacher?” she asked.

He hesitated. “I think some people are born to walk with God,” he said reverently.

“And your parents? I bet they're very proud of you.”

His head lowered. Oh, hell, when would she learn not to ask personal questions? “I'm sorry…”

He raised his head, meeting her gaze. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “They died when I was young—seven. A car wreck.” He drew in a shaky breath. “I was raised in an orphanage.”

Other books

Three Stories by J. M. Coetzee
Junonia by Kevin Henkes
Beatles by Lars Saabye Christensen
To Save His Mate by Serena Pettus
The Death Pictures by Simon Hall
Suspended by Taryn Elliott
The Preacher's Daughter by Cheryl St.John