Unwrapped (15 page)

No wonder Jeff and Greg had been so unsurprised by his
declaration of love for her. It was a miracle she hadn't recognized it herself.
He'd never realized he wore his heart so on his sleeve, but there it was for
all to see.

Reading such naked vulnerability in his own face made him
uneasy. He'd given his heart so completely into her hands. Carelessly.
Irrevocably. What if she didn't want it?

Beside him, Mia and Allison chattered at high
speed—the party, the people, the photos, who hadn't showed and
why—oblivious to his silence.

Had he made a mistake? He'd spent every waking moment wooing
Mia, finding ways to be with her. He hadn't spent a whole day with his friends,
without her, since day one of their three-month deal. He hadn't wanted to. He'd
canceled monthly racquetball sessions, card games, even a camping trip. All
because he'd been so focused on making her fall in love with him.

As far as he could tell, she was having a great time. And
was still totally focused on the end result. The sex.

He shook his head. Any other guy would be pumping his fist in
victory, but he only saw the grains of sand ticking down the hours of their
deal. More than two-thirds of their time gone, a few short weeks remaining, and
he hadn't made any progress toward his ultimate goal.

What else could he do to win her over? How much more time
could he spend? He'd barely put in the minimum face-time at work since they'd
started this deal.

Yet if he continued to give up every aspect of his life, if
he left himself so unguarded, and she said no thanks at the end of their run,
what would he have to go back to? The answer was obvious and had panic clawing
at the back of his throat.

He'd go back to nothing. No Mia, no life. Just the shell of
his empty heart.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hey, baby," Mia said, dropping into Derrick's lap
with her arms looped around his neck. "You're the saddest-looking Santa
I've ever seen."

"Oh, yeah?" Derrick answered, shifting so his arms
came around her. "Maybe that's 'cuz I was sitting here all alone with no
one from my Naughty List to keep me company."

"Oooh, Santa, am I on your Naughty List? I've been
awfully good this year."

"Baby," he said, giving her ass a squeeze that
shot arrows of lust zinging to all the right places, "you
are
the Naughty List."

"I am, huh? Hmm."

Studying him, Mia tapped a Christmas-red fingernail against
her lips. She kept her smile bright and teasing, but inside, concern sprouted.
Derrick was saying all the right things, and his lips were pulled into a smile,
but his eyes still looked sad, and something else she couldn't identify. What had
happened in the few minutes she'd been talking with Allison?

She'd just have to do her best to take whatever it was off
his mind.

Still playing the game, she rubbed a hand suggestively up
and down the velvet jacket covering his hugely amplified belly.

"Why, Santa," she said, adopting a breathy Marilyn
Monroe whisper only he could hear in the crowded, music-filled room,
"whatever shall I do? I'd do almost anything to get back on the Good
Girl's List."

"Would you, now?" Derrick said, his eyebrows
raised as though intrigued.

"Uh-huh." She gave her best blond-bombshell giggle
and leaned in closer, pulling the elastic holding his wig around his ears away
so she could whisper exactly what she had in mind.

And had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes nearly pop out
of his head, all trace of sadness banished.

"After all," she continued, staying in character,
"diamonds are a girl's best friend, and I'd be heartbroken to wake up
Christmas morning to a stocking full of coal."

She finished with a teasing flick of his nose, but at the
word 'diamonds,' Derrick had stiffened, and his eyes had flashed to hers,
searching for. . . What?

Mia leaned back so she could see him better. "What's
wrong?" she asked in her normal voice.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing, I
just—"

The music cut off abruptly, and Allison ran into the room,
squealing and dragging Greg and Jeff behind her like Macy's parade floats.
People from the other rooms crowded in to see what was happening as Allison
hopped up onto her coffee table, bouncing with excitement and in serious danger
of an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction.

She yelled, "Ding-ding-ding," while tapping an
imaginary glass. Once she had everyone's attention, she sang,
"Announcement, announcement!" and pulled Jeff and Greg center stage,
both of whom were blushing furiously. They looked a little shell-shocked and
deliriously happy.

Mia exchanged glances with Derrick, wondering what was going
on and why Derrick looked even stonier than he had before.

Jeff cleared his throat into the silence. A natural
performer, Mia had never seen him at a loss for words before, especially with
all eyes upon him.

"Well," he said. "Well. I, uh—
eh-hemm
—I am happy, no, ecstatic to announce that I. .
. well, I asked Greg to marry me, and he said yes!"

The room exploded with noise. Amid much squeeing,
congratulating, hugging, kissing and a few happily teary toasts, Jeff and Greg
beamed with happiness. Greg showed off the ring Jeff had given him, champagne
was poured, pictures were taken.

When the hubbub had died down and the party resumed, Mia sat
on Jeff's lap with her feet across Greg's, who was, bless his soul, rubbing the
arches she'd abused in her too-high boots, and quizzed them all about the
wedding.

They talked colors, themes, styles, cake flavors, all the
important details. Neither man wanted to wait too long, but legal mumbo-jumbo
would dictate whether they had the ceremony in California or went out of state.
Either way, they promised, it was going to be one hell of a shindig.

"You guys look so happy," Mia said. "I'm so
happy for you."

"We're in love," Greg answered, his eyes on hers
and his voice gentle. He reached across Jeff to squeeze her hand. "You
should try it sometime."

Mia stared into his earnest gaze, bemused. Jeff shot him a
shushing look and cleared his throat. Greg shrugged and went back to rubbing
her feet, a small smile playing about the corner of his mouth.

"Of course, you have to be one of my attendants,"
Jeff said, returning to the wedding topic and making Mia tear up again.
"You, Derrick and Allison. Mark, Brian and Greg's sister, Heather, are
standing for him."

"That'll be perfect," she said, hugging Jeff
tightly and smiling at Greg.

By the time the party started winding down and Mia looked
around, she realized she had no idea what had become of Derrick. He'd been in
the thick of the congratulatory mob—she had the photos on her phone to
prove it—but the last she'd seen of him, he'd been holding a rapid-fire
conversation in fluent Japanese with a man she didn't know. Since then, he'd
disappeared.

Deciding it was time to track him down, Mia gave Jeff and
Greg each a smacking kiss, then left the lovebirds happily debating honeymoon
destinations. She winced her way back into her shoes and wove through the
remaining guests, trying not to think about the cleanup later.

The party had been so packed that even with half the
celebrants gone, the house was still crammed with people. Now that the music
had been turned down to a dull roar, Mia found herself waylaid several times by
conversations with friends and a quick, impromptu jig around the kitchen when a
sprightly Celtic fiddle momentarily took the place of the eighties rock Allison
had played all night.

It was another hour before she finally ducked into Allison's
tiny backyard for some cool, fresh air, planning to mount another attack on
finding Derrick—where the hell could he have gotten in such a small
house?—only to nearly trip over his extended legs on the flagstone patio.
She hadn't seen him in the relative darkness beyond the reach of the party lights.

He reclined on a beach chair, a beer dangling from his hand,
his white gloves, wig and beard heaped on a glass-topped table.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"How's it going?"

"Fine."

Uh-huh.

Something was definitely off with him, but Mia opted for the
casual approach. Derrick wasn't much of a brooder, generally, but when the mood
struck, it was best to play dumb and let him work through whatever it was on
his own.

She had an idea on how to speed that process along.

Standing close beside his chair so that his free hand
brushed her nearly-naked thigh above the top of her boot, Mia stretched across
him. Her skirt's jingle bells pealed softly. Balancing her fingers on his
padded belly, she slid the beer from his other hand. Slowly, she traced the
bottle up her midriff and into the shadow of her cleavage in the miniscule
elf's top, dragging his eyes along for the ride as she'd intended, though no
passionate fire kindled in their golden depths.

Fine. She wasn't finished.

Tipping the bottle to her lips, she sipped, then made an
involuntary face. "Blech," she said with a shudder, momentarily
forgetting her mission. "Warm."

"Yeah." He took it from her and set it on the
table next to his Santa gear.

Okay. Strike one.

"I've been searching for you," she said, kicking
one leg over his so that she straddled him in the chair, then sinking onto his
thighs.

In the barely-there skirt, fishnets and tiny thong beneath,
she might as well have been naked, although he was covered enough for both of
them. Maybe she should have thought that part through more carefully when she
came up with this costume duo.

"Have you?" His tone gave nothing away.

Undeterred, she leaned forward until she was pressed against
him and traced a fingertip along the strong line of his jaw. God, he was
handsome. Even wrapped in the Santa suit, with a half-scowl on his face, just
being near him turned her on so damn much she was practically squirming on his
lap. How had she buried this sexual pull all these years?

"
Mmmmm
,"
she hummed deep in her throat. "Yes."

Derrick's hands remained at his sides. Why wouldn't he touch
her?

If she had the nerve, she'd knock him back with a kiss to
set his hair on fire and be done with it right this minute, but now was clearly
not the time. She needed to work up to it, work him out of whatever this mood
was, before convincing him to take her back to his place, strip her out of her
elf's clothes and satisfy her curiosity. Forget their deal. Fulfill her
desperate need.

"I want to get back to that list discussion," she
said, her fingertip now running along his bottom lip. "See what I can do
to improve my standing."

"Stop, Mia," he said, grabbing her hand.

Shifting, he finally put his hands on her, but it was only
to lift her off his lap before swinging himself up from the chair.

"Derrick?"

"I can't do this."

"Do what? What's wrong?" Mia stared at him in the
darkness while unease crept into her belly.

"This," he said, waving a hand. "With
you." Clearly agitated, he started pacing the small patio. Always a bad
sign. "It's just the sex, right? For you?"

The drop in her belly reminded her of their last trip to
Magic Mountain, only this time she didn't much care for the sensation. Ignoring
it, and the warning bell beginning to toll in the back of her mind, she frowned
at him. "Isn't that what we agreed—"

"I know what we agreed."

"Then I don't understand." Confused, afraid, Mia
couldn't take her eyes off his form, his long strides eating up the patio's
width in sharp bites. The warning bell's tolling grew more insistent.

"No, you don't," he agreed. "That's the
problem. It's me, okay? I owe you an apology. I thought I could do this and it
would be okay, but I was wrong. I thought I could. . . I thought I could. But I
can't."

"Can't
what
?"

"I can't be with you this way, Mia. I'm sorry. I need
more from you. But you're all wrapped up in your angst and your issues and your
refusal to see what's right in front of your face. I can't take it
anymore."

"What—"

"I want out of the deal."

Fear and pain twisted in her belly, rising up her throat in
choking waves. It was that day at the beach all over again, only worse. So much
worse. They were closer now, deeper into each other's lives, more tightly
entwined than they'd ever been. Losing him now would be like losing a limb, a
vital piece of herself. What was he saying?

"Derrick, I—"

"Don't you get it, Mia?" He took her by the
shoulders and shook her, rattling her bones. The pain in his voice tore at her
heart. "I love you. I'm in love with you. I can't just be your first guy.
I want to be your only guy."

Shocked, paralyzed, Mia stood frozen, beyond tears, beyond
thought, as Derrick walked away.

The clanging bell in her head rang so loudly, she wanted to
clap her hands over her ears to make it stop. So much for her grand plan.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Derrick kept it together long enough to escape the party. He
waved goodbye after verifying Jeff and Greg were catching a ride home with Mark
and Brian and would be over the next day to pick up the things they'd left at
his place.

Ripping the padding from beneath the Santa suit, he stuffed
it in the backseat and drove aimlessly for hours with only one thought in his
head.

What have I done? Sweet Jesus, what have I done?

Mia's face, bone-white and still as stone, eyes wide as a
doe's, haunted his mind.

"Way to drop it on her, asshole," he said out
loud, the words whisking into the night through the car's open windows.

The heater pumped at full temperature, combating the chill
wind. After spending most of the evening riding a sensual heat wave, now he was
bone-cold, but he wanted the slap of fresh December air.