Merry Kisses (Riverbend Romance 5) (6 page)

“It’s my other throne that’s the problem.”

Surely she hadn’t heard right. “Your
other
throne?”

Heath came down the steps and reached for his toes. “Yep. The one in my Bobcat has even less padding than this one.”

“In your Bobcat?” Man, she needed to stop mimicking him.

This time she caught the twinkle in his eye. Not exactly the kind of twinkle she’d always associated with Santa. “Did you notice the neatly cleared parking lot out there? Must’ve been six inches of snow overnight.”

“It hasn’t stopped.”

“I think you’re telling me the lot needs to be plowed again.” His shoulders drooped.

“Probably.” She shook her head. “That’s really your other job?”

“One of them.” Heath stepped out of the North Pole and glanced up and down the mall. He stuffed the white gloves into a pocket. “Not a lot of shoppers left.”

Sonya remembered the cozy scenario waiting for her at home. “Do you close up early then?”

“Not with this gig.” He beckoned. “Come on. You’ve been on your feet for over an hour, and at least we can sit down while we wait for more children.”

The grouping of leather benches did look inviting, so she strolled over and sat down. Not that an hour on her feet was enough to topple her.

Heath lowered himself to the bench kitty-corner to her, knees all but touching hers. “So... how did it go, being an elf?”

She hesitated. “Not too bad, I guess.” So long as she didn’t have to tell her parents about her new job. But not being able to see Heath’s face was driving her crazy. How was she supposed to read his facial expressions? Trusting just his eyes was terrifying, because he never stopped looking at her.

He reached over and captured one hand in his. “Define not too bad?”

Sonya stared down at his long fingers. At his callused thumb stroking the back of her hand. Not bad at all.

But... he was Santa. She made a half-hearted effort to disengage, but he didn’t seem to catch the hint. Truth to tell, the warmth, the contact, felt kind of nice. How long since anyone had really cared about her?

He wasn’t
just
Santa. “You said plowing snow was another of your jobs. How many do you have?”

Heath’s fingers twined around hers. Had she really turned her palm up to accept his? “Three, if you count this one.”

Did he need to remind her? Not that she was about to forget. The red sleeve with its white trim rested on her knee. “What do you mean, if you count it?”

He shrugged. “Jobs are a means to pay for life’s needs. Being Santa is different. Yeah, there’s compensation, but not enough, if you know what I mean. I do it for the kids. To help me remember that people are the most important thing. Everyone needs hope.”

Her mind reeled. “Hope from Santa? How?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it.” Heath met her gaze for a moment then looked down.

Did he find their clasped hands as fascinating as she did? “Try?”

“I hate the commercialism of Christmas. It seems everybody is just focused on gifts. On getting more stuff.”

Whoa. “Isn’t Santa an enabler of that attitude?” More like the driver.

“Sure, some children ask me for the newest video game and other toys. But lots of them have completely different requests. Some of them want their parents to stop fighting. Or they want the bully at school to stop picking on them.” He sighed. “Some of them want a warm jacket that fits. And a few ask me for food.”

“I had no idea.” The words escaped before she could censor them, but she wouldn’t take them back if she could. “That must be heartbreaking. To see real needs and not be able to...” Wait. She stared at him. “But the parents give names and addresses so we can mail the photos.”

He nodded, his eyebrows peaked. Like he was waiting for something. For her to connect the dots, maybe.

“So if there was a way to link them with the children’s requests...”

Heath reached into his chest pocket and removed a small spiral-bound notebook.

“You...” Sonya’s mind raced with the possibilities. “You’re already doing that.”

He flipped it open and handed it to her.

Jordan: girl about 4. Baby sister. Dance class & tutu.

Sonya turned the pages, scanning several more notes. “Do you write them all down?”

“Most of them. It’s fascinating, really. Every child has hopes and dreams, even when they’re only two or three years old.” He grinned. “The babies are there just so Mom can put a Santa photo in their baby book but, once they can talk, they have endlessly entertaining things to say.”

“So Jordan wants dance lessons. I think I remember her. Corkscrew curls? Lessons can’t cost that much.”

“You’d be surprised.” Heath laughed. “They add up.”

Sonya narrowed her gaze at him. “You’ve checked?”

“I might’ve.” He scratched the back of his neck.

Was he saying he actually fulfilled Santa’s gift-giving role? There was more to this — to him — than she’d ever dreamed.

“Not that I, uh, have a secret wish to wear a tutu and dance in front of anyone.”

Sonya squeezed the fingers that still clasped hers. “Why not? You’re obviously into dressing up.”

He gave her a rueful grin. “That’s a little much, even for me.”

“Oh, hey, I figured it out.”

“Hmm?”

“You said you had three jobs. So the other one is teaching dance class?”

He rose, pulling her up with him. “Not so much. I wouldn’t mind learning though. One on one. With the right teacher.” He raised their clasped hands, set his other on her waist, and pulled her two steps to the right. “And the right partner.” Then left.

“I don’t really dance.” Okay, not at all, but for the first time it seemed rather appealing. The movements Heath led her through to the canned music in the mall’s sound system could give way to so much more. She blinked. “But I could learn. Maybe.”

Heath’s hand on her waist sent a ripple effect up and down her body. Or maybe it was the mint on his breath or the intensity of his brown eyes, looking into her so deeply she couldn’t help wondering if he could see straight to her skitterish heart. Her senses swam.

“I don’t think I can sign us up until January, but would you like to go for dinner?”

 
“I’d like that.” She would. She really would.

“Tonight?” he said softly.

Sonya lifted her eyes to his and nearly lost herself in their brown depths. She nodded. Whoever would have guessed she’d fervently wish to be kissed by Santa Claus?

* * *

She peered into the mirror and swept mascara over her long lashes. Then she stepped back, right on the cat, who yowled.

“Sorry, Tangle.” Sonya scooped the calico up and gave her a quick rub as she eyed herself critically. This was as good as it was going to get. If Heath could give her a second glance when she wore that ridiculous giraffe uniform, he obviously wasn’t too picky.

Sonya turned one way, then the other. Dark gray slacks, a white cami, and a subdued purple-and-gray striped sweater. Her black boots added a couple of inches of height.

She set the cat down and gathered her hair in both hands. Maybe she should wear it up. No. She’d already decided on down. Loose. This wasn’t a formal event.

When was the last time she’d been out? Six months? Eight? She heard the buzzer from the apartment building foyer, and she pressed the button. “Hello.”

“It’s Heath. May I come up? I have something for you.”

Sonya’d planned to meet him downstairs. She shot a quick glance around her apartment. “Sure.” What would it look like to him? How much of her personality showed in her space? Would he notice the lack of Christmas? Well, she was who she was. “Behave yourself,” she whispered to Tangle.

A light tap sounded on her door and she swung it open. Heath stood in the hallway holding a giant poinsettia. “For you.” He grinned and leaned closer, his lips sweeping her cheek. “Merry kisses.”

Her face tingled. It was all she could do not to touch the spot. As it was, his cologne lingered between them. Belatedly, she reached for the beautiful plant, its base wrapped in red foil. “Thank you. It will look perfect on my table.”

Sonya set the poinsettia on the runner her grandmother had quilted for her a few years back. “It’s stunning.” She stepped back... right into Heath.

His hands clasped her elbows, steadying her for a second before letting go. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

His nearness was intoxicating. She shifted to one side, needing a bit of space to keep her head. Just because the guy was cute, funny, and a Christian didn’t mean she could let her guard down quite this quickly.

Heath tipped his head to one side, examining her with his warm brown eyes. “You look terrific.”

“So do you.” What was that about thinking before she spoke? But it was true. He’d ditched his Santa suit for a navy jacket, partially unzipped so a dark red turtleneck peeked out, and he wore black jeans. He looked more than terrific. Amazing.

“Wow, you have a lot of plants.” He glanced around the living room with appreciation. “You must have a green thumb.”

“I hadn’t picked up a poinsettia yet, though.” She wouldn’t have, either. Wasn’t that just buying into the Christmas hype?

Tangle hopped up onto the runner and sniffed the new addition. The cat never seemed to learn to stay off the table. Sonya scooped her away and deposited her on the floor.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had a cat. Poinsettias are poisonous. That’s probably why you didn’t get one.”

He could think what he liked. “This is Tangle. She’ll be fine now that she knows what it is. She’s not a plant eater.”

Heath lifted Tangle and rubbed her ears. The cat nearly melted in his hands. He chuckled and set her back down then turned to Sonya. “May I help you with your coat?”

Any guy that liked her cat was a winner. Okay, Heath was a winner half a dozen ways. If it weren’t for Santa, he’d be perfect. “Thank you. It’s hanging in the closet behind you.”
 

She held her breath as Heath settled her coat over her shoulders then slid his fingers behind her hair to untuck it. His touch lingered a few seconds, warm on her neck. “Ready?”

Sonya turned and found herself in his arms. She took a half step back. Not quite ready, no, but getting closer by the minute.

CHAPTER 7

Heath captured Sonya’s hand as they stepped out of the Water Wheel restaurant some time later. The wonderland of Riverside Park, decorated for the Christmas season, spread out in front of them. If he were in a fairy tale, he’d like if it lasted a bit longer. “Want to walk for a bit?”

She nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

“The wind’s died down.” Now the fresh snow drifted by more like a whisper, caught in the glow of millions of tiny white lights winding around trees and lining the path. A path that — thankfully — was somebody else’s responsibility to keep cleared, though at least a centimeter had fallen since it had last seen a shovel.

They paused at an intersection. Sonya lifted her face to the night sky and closed her eyes. Her long lashes brushed her cheeks as she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. A falling snowflake caught on her lashes and another kissed her nose.

Heath stood, mesmerized, still clasping her gloved hand in his. She was so beautiful, and she didn’t even seem to notice it. This wasn’t a pose begging for a kiss. She was lost in her own moment, and he a mere observer. One that was being tugged in, though. Closer.

Did they really have a chance of a future together? The question wafted Caribbean breezes across him, alternating with Arctic blasts. Was he ready for a forever relationship? There had been plenty of first dates over the years. Even a few seconds and thirds. But no girl — woman — had rocked him to the core of his being.

Kiss? Too soon? He tightened his grip on her hand more from reflex than thought.

Sonya’s eyelashes blinked open, the tiny snowflake melting away. “I love winter,” she said simply. “I love all the seasons, but winter the most.” She took a step toward the river, pulling him into step beside her.

Heath barely trusted himself to speak. “What do you like best about it?”

She swooped her free arm around the park. “Snow. It makes everything fresh and clean. It clears the air and energizes me. I feel so alive.”

He tried to agree, but could barely get out more than a murmur. At the moment, it was Sonya herself who made him feel alive. Aware of every red blood cell racing through his veins. Aware of this moment in time with perfect focus and clarity.

She swung their clasped hands and picked up the pace when all he wanted to do was linger. “How about you? What’s your favorite season?”

The fingers of her white glove twined around the gray of his. They came into his line of vision then swept backward. And again. “Whichever one it is, I think,” he said at last.

“Pardon?” She glanced at him.

He stilled the hands that joined them. “Every season has its own beauty.”
And I want to see
your
beauty in every one.
But no, that was way too forward for their first date. First of many. First of a lifetime?

“So... you like snow?”

Heath gazed into those eyes, gleaming with the reflection from nearby lights. The whole park glowed with sparkling lights, soft shadows, and lazy flakes wandering earthward. “I love snow.”

Too late he realized her intent as she bent, scooped a handful from beside the path, and threw it in his face.

“Hey!”

She giggled, a sound that fit the park’s magic, then took off at a run. He ran after her, slipping a bit on the path before abandoning it to take a shortcut across the knee-deep drifts. When he closed in, she flung another handful at him then ducked, still giggling.

Heath wiped the snow off his face and grabbed her around the waist, dragging her against him as he tumbled backward into the snow bank. Mistake. She sat on his belly and rubbed more into his face.

Three times was definitely not an accident. None of them had been. He twisted and dumped her into the snow beside him. Her laughing eyes shone up at him above cheeks rosy from chill. Above lips curving in invitation.

Heath scooped a handful of snow and pressed it into a tight ball with both hands.