Santa Baby Read online

  “Okay, boys,” I insert, “this is a place of business. We don’t need this kind of drama happening here. Come on,” I say, grasping Kyle’s upper arm—I was right, he’s beefy. Holy shit! “Since you’re so fond of blackmail, we’re going to go grab lunch and you’re going to give me my wallet back, and we’ll all be happy.”

  Practically, dragging him away, I depress the elevator button and the doors slide open immediately. I shove Kyle inside and follow right behind, jamming on the first-floor button.

  As the door begins to close again, I meet Travis’s eyes across the room and just shake my head. He has both thumbs up, as if he’s just done me a favor and is pleased with his handiwork.

  The man is delusional.

  “I don’t like him,” Kyle mutters.

  I watch the lights for each floor count down, one by one. “He’s an acquired taste.”

  Unlike Kyle, who is everyone’s taste. Most especially mine.

  Chapter Seven

  This was a mistake. The hugest ever. I don’t know why I agreed to go on this...date, as Kyle is calling it. It’s not a date. It’s a hostage situation. And no one is coming to bargain for my freedom. I’m on my own, left to my own devices, which are, admittedly, few.

  I pick at the Caesar salad, pushing a grape tomato around with the fork’s tines, while I listen to Kyle carry on a one-sided conversation. Actually, I’m not really listening at all. I’m only here to reacquire my wallet, which he is keeping just out of my reach but in plain sight so as to torment me.

  I hate the bastard.

  I’m still worrisomely attracted to the bastard too.

  I hate the way I feel around him. This was something I’d thought I’d gotten over ages ago, and yet here I am, imagining the way those large, rough hands would feel on my skin. His mouth, which I try my hardest to avoid looking at, inspires all manner of lustful thoughts, too, which is just plain irritating. How I went from being apathetic to a live wire, jonesing for a taste is beyond me. I just don’t understand how I’ve fallen so far so fast.

  The man is like catnip!

  “Remember that?”

  I blink rapidly and look up, meeting his eyes. They’re soft and full of life, reflecting his alluring smile. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  His smile doesn’t falter, despite the rude response. “I was talking about that party at Jonah’s freshman year.”

  “Which one?” I stab a romaine leaf. “He had parties every weekend.”

  He nods, conceding. “He did, but I’m talking about the one.”

  I catch the look in his eye and the memories come flooding back. Toga party. Halloween. Everyone was shit-faced.

  I shake my head, a phantom chill running down my spine. “The pool was freezing. I don’t know why I let you talk me into getting in there when it wasn’t even forty degrees.”

  “Me?” he asks, his voice pitching higher. “I think it had more to do with the headstand drinking game you did just before that.”

  I think back, catching flashes of that night. “Ohhhh yeahhhh. I did do that, huh?” I say sheepishly.

  “Yeah, you certainly did.” He chuckles, picks up his fancy goblet of water and looks at me over the glass as he takes a drink. His eyes don’t leave mine as he sets it aside again. “So...Sunny.”

  I’m instantly on alert again. Sitting up straighter in my chair, I grip my fork, though I don’t yet know what I’d do with it. Stabbing him would be overkill, no matter what comes out of his mouth. Right? I force my fingers to relax and clear my throat, raising one eyebrow to let him know I’m listening.

  “Are you free this afternoon? I’m not quite ready to take you back to work yet.”

  I should have seen this coming. Sighing, I said, “Kyle—”

  “Before you say no,” he says, sitting forward in his chair and reaching across the table to cover my hand with his, “hear me out.”

  I stare at our hands on the table, both hating and loving the warmth of his touch, and hating that I even respond to it in the first place. The kiss we shared dances through my thoughts and I find myself staring at his mouth again, those delectable lips...and wavering.

  “I haven’t seen you in years. I miss you. And I know you miss me,” he insists, which raises my hackles while simultaneously sparking shyness I didn’t know I still possessed when it comes to him.

  I look away, unable to meet his searching gaze.

  “What do you say, my Sunny Sunshine...spend the day with me?”

  The softness in his voice reaches something tender inside of me, and I look up again. Those blue eyes are pleading with me, begging me for a chance...

  And I ask myself, is satisfying my curiosity worth the lost pay? The risk of more heartache? Any risk at all? Is this man, who has no qualms blackmailing me to get me to go to lunch with him, even worth my time?

  Then again... What’s the worst that could happen? What could a few hours really change? I work so much overtime that the office won’t miss me, and the overtime makes it so my paycheck won’t miss a couple lost hours. And there’s no way I’ll allow myself to fall for his undeniable charm, no matter how attracted to him I am. I have my hard head and mile-wide stubborn streak to thank for that.

  My curiosity finally wins out, and I side with the voice in my head that knows this is an equally good and bad idea.

  A calculated risk. Ultimately, that’s what life comes down to.

  Extracting my hand from beneath his, I say, “Fine, but don’t think this is me agreeing to anything more.”

  He wears a victorious smile as he lifts his arm and flags down the waiter to ask for the check. “I’m glad you agreed,” Kyle states as we leave the restaurant, his hand pressing warmly against my lower back. “I didn’t want to have to hold your wallet hostage again.”

  My jaw drops open as he hands it back to me. I take it, thinking I should tell him to fuck off and catch a cab back to the office, but one step turns into two and then three and more, and before I know it, I’m in the passenger seat of his beamer and we’re flying down the highway while Kyle belts out the lyrics to “Livin’ on a Prayer.”

  As for me? I’m thinking of the last time this happened, only it was in Kyle’s beat-up Firebird with the balding tires kicking up dust from the old country backroads, and his hand was on my knee.

  And just like old times, I feel his hand there, cupping my knee. Surprised, I look at it then over at him. His head turns, and he meets my eyes, then smiles, still singing away...and it’s almost as if we haven’t missed a beat.

  I don’t fight it, even though I probably should. Instead, I turn my head and watch the scenery speed by.

  I can’t seem to stop smiling.

  Chapter Eight

  We end up at his place, which I should have expected. Somehow, I didn’t see it coming. Maybe I’m too naïve to be playing his games. Maybe I should be catching the next Uber out of here, I tell myself.

  All the while my ass stays glued to the wood-topped stool overlooking the modern, shabby chic kitchen while Kyle struggles to pop the cork on a bottle of white wine.

  “Do you need help with that?” I ask, smiling behind folded hands.

  “Nope, almost got it. It’s loosening up now,” he says, then frowns. “I think.”

  He’s been working on it for several minutes, wiggling and twisting the corkscrew while he tries to carry a conversation and maintain good humor.

  The only one who’s laughing is me though.

  Extending my hand over the counter, I say, “Here, give it to me.”

  He glances up at me with a strong look of doubt and resistance, then finally he places it in my hand.

  “Good luck,” he says as I tuck the bottle under my left arm and grasp the popper. “I think they glued that thing on—”

  Pop!

  Grinning, I hand the now-open bottle and popper back. “I think you’re losing your touch,” I say with a laugh.

  Kyle begins filling two glasses. “Beginner’s luck. I loose
ned it for you.”

  “Ha! Just admit it, you’ve never opened a bottle of wine before.”

  The signs are everywhere. Kyle may drive a beamer, and his studio apartment may be decked out with all the finest trims, but his style is eclectic, from the furniture to the artwork hanging on the walls. Even his clothes are mid-level, not too cheap or expensive. Clearly, he enjoys nice things, but he’s maintained some humbleness. Nothing here is over the top.

  “I’ve opened wine,” Kyle protests.

  I accept the glass he hands me and take a small sip. It’s smooth, slightly sweet, and goes down nice. Kyle, though, doesn’t seem to have the same appreciation for it.

  “When was the last time you had wine?” I ask, suspicious.

  “Um...” He holds the glass at eye level, inspecting it. “Never.”

  “Never?” I say with a gasp.

  “Honestly,” he says, setting the glass down on the counter, “I’m more of a beer guy.”

  Truth be told, I’m more of a beer girl. Mirroring him, I set my glass aside too. “Then why the wine?”

  His smile is crooked and bashful. “I thought it would impress you.”

  I hold his stare, trying to fashion a response that won’t sound stupid, but I can’t find any words. Breaking eye contact, I look around the apartment once more, absorbing what I’ve already observed for the second time. It’s obvious that he’s worked hard to shake that country boy exterior, but on closer look, I can see the subtleties that show me he hasn’t been too successful at it.

  The rough, dark-stained, wood-slab table in the dining room, the old leather recliner in the corner of the living room, the old wooden bowl on the sideboard by the door used to catch his keys and spare change, and several other elements indicate he hasn’t gotten too far away from his roots.

  For some reason, that comforts me.

  “You don’t have to impress me, Kyle.”

  “You’re the big city girl now. You can’t tell me you don’t love all the better things in life.”

  I turn to him again and look up into those big blue, earnest eyes that speak truth straight to my soul. It’s hard to believe this man is the same one who broke my heart with lies. “It’s nice to have nice things, but they’re just things,” I respond.

  “But...”

  My gaze darts away again as I think of the past we once shared. All that time, all those memories. They were some of the best times of my life. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t lie awake some nights wishing I could go back to relive them just one more time.

  Kyle was the man I’d planned to marry, have kids, and grow old with. It terrifies me to look at him now and feel as if those dreams are right in front of me again, waiting for me to gather the courage to reach out and grab them.

  An ex is an ex for a reason, I heard someone say once. It’s a motto I’ve tried to live by...but what if that reason doesn’t feel so significant anymore?

  “Things can be replaced,” I answer his question. “People can’t. Memories can’t. Those are what matter the most.”

  His lips turn up at the corners. “I couldn’t agree more, Sunny. In fact, that’s why I brought you here today.” He rounds the counter, coming around to my side, and I sit up straight, my back rigid, unsure of his intentions, even though my body knows full well something big is about to happen.

  I’m both excited and terrified to find out what it will be.

  “I thought I’d put you behind me, but as soon as I saw you in that hospital room, it was as if no time had passed.”

  I know exactly what he means. Except I’d never managed to put a damn thing behind me. Kyle has always been my past, present, and now...maybe my future, too. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but I can feel all the carefully built walls falling away, crumbling like dust with each step closer he takes.

  “Where did we go wrong?” he asks softly as he reaches out and runs his fingers through my hair.

  I close my eyes, relishing his long-forgotten touch. “You kissed another girl.”

  “Not like you think. I thought I was kissing you!” he shouts in frustration, throwing his arms up. “But it was all wrong. The second my lips touched her, I knew it wasn’t you. I swear, I pushed her away and I got the hell out of there, but someone must have seen and then twisted it all up and...well, you know the rest.” He grimaces. “I can’t rewrite the past, but I am so sorry I hurt you,” he replies softly, his voice full of emotion. “It was one drunken night, and it ruined everything. I’ll never forgive myself for losing you. Never.”

  For some reason, his words touch me, simple as they are. They shouldn’t. They’re nothing special. But they feel special, reaching down deep inside, creating warmth and longing and a twinge of something I can’t name that puts a pit in my stomach that pleads to be filled.

  Instinct tells me the only person who can do that is standing right in front of me.

  Despite everything I’ve told myself and all the promises I’ve made, all the swearing up and down and left to right...I know I’m going to fold like a stack of cards in a stiff breeze.

  “Kyle,” I breathe.

  His lips are on mine before I can utter another word. Plunging his hands into my hair, he grips the strands in tight fists, but his kiss is tender, soft, sweet. Full of caring and insecurity that contradicts the commanding—almost demanding—way that he holds me to him, as if he’s terrified I’ll run at any moment.

  I won’t. The instant he touched me, I was gone. It just took a moment for me to admit it to myself. And now, as his lips continue to move against mine and we settle into a rhythm, I realize there’s no point hiding it anymore.

  I still feel love for this man. That place he held in my heart so long ago is still very much alive, and it’s growing by the second, as if it had simply gone dormant and has been waiting all these years for him to return and breathe fresh life back into it.

  Kyle shifts closer, and like a fluid dance, I twist so my body faces him fully, my legs falling open to allow him to step between them. My hands rise to clasp around his wrists, and he tilts my head to deepen the kiss.

  I remember this. The way he used to kiss me, so full of love and adoration, making me feel like we were the only two people left in the world. I don’t know how or why, but Kyle has always consumed me.

  The kiss grows hotter, more eager, teeth biting and lips sucking as the excitement begins to build higher and higher. It’s not a decision that I’m conscious of making, but a need, a knowledge that this is where things are headed and how it’s going to be.

  Kyle must be on the same page, because without spoken communication, he transfers his hands to my waist and lifts me into his arms. I wrap my limbs around him, holding on tightly as he carries me away, and I kiss him as if my very survival in this world depends on it.

  It does. I don’t know how I’ve existed this long without him. One kiss was all it took to destroy the fragile balance I had in my life, and now I know I can’t ever return to that state of being. I am that college girl all over again, madly in love with her childhood sweetheart, the man who swept me off my feet and stole my heart, consumed my mind, and touched my soul.

  And he’s doing it all over again.

  Only this time, as he lays me out on his bed and stands over me, looking down at me with a predatory kind of hunger simmering in his eyes, I find myself praying to a higher power that I’ll never have to feel the pain of losing him again.

  There’s no telling where this is going to go, and I’m fully aware that this line of thinking could be setting me up for even worse heartbreak than I can ever imagine, but I am powerless to stop it.

  At the end of the day, I’m just the same little girl who grew up watching Disney princesses find their prince and live happily ever after...and that’s all I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

  Kyle’s gaze holds mine as he peels off his clothes slowly. I’m nervous. This is moving so fast, yet not fast enough.

  One minute I’m determined to resist h
im. The next I’m dying to get closer.

  Licking my lips, I allow myself to loosen up a little, join in and let go. Just a little.

  My fingers pick at the buttons on my blouse, releasing the little round pearlescent discs one at a time until the material is split down the middle, the cool apartment air kissing my bare stomach.

  Kyle’s eyes travel down my body, lingering on my breasts first, making my nipples swell and stand at attention behind the thick, padded bra before lowering to my navel...then lower, to the place he really wants to be.

  Where I want him to be.

  I feel a rush of heat wash over me, through me, from my head down between legs, and the sensitive tissues there pulse with need, growing hotter and wetter than I can ever imagine. I know I’m soaked, and that excites me even more.

  Soon, Kyle will know just how much I’ve missed him. How much I want him.

  But I think he already knows.

  Pinning his full bottom lip between his slightly imperfect teeth, he rids himself of every last bit of clothing then places his hands on my raised knees, pushing them open for his viewing pleasure. But he doesn’t stop there. Kyle doesn’t waste any time removing my smart, black pencil skirt, taking my panties off with it. He issues a little growl of appreciation when he sees the lace-top thigh-highs.

  “Those stay on,” he says with a streak of possessiveness that sends a thrilled shiver racing through me.

  Placing a knee on the bed, Kyle crawls up my body, one hand pressing into the mattress beside my head to hold him up while the other flattens on my stomach and inches its way up, pushing my blouse out of the way in a slow reveal.

  Kyle watches it all as it unfolds, and I get the distinct impression that he’s savoring the experience, committing it all to memory.

  So am I.

  Every single second of it.

  As his palm finds its way to my breasts and cups the soft, lace fabric, his fingers tracing the gentle slope, he asks, “Are you sure about this? I’ll stop if you want me to.”

  In a snap, I know I’ve made the right decision. Cupping his face in both hands, I draw his attention to my face and say earnestly, “There’s no other place I’d rather be, Kyle.”