Dear Santa: A Bad Boy Christmas Romance

by Lulu Pratt

  So I accept. “Sure. That would be great.”

  A genuine smile touches her lips and she starts rattling off things at the speed of light.

  “Fantastic! We’ll get fancy. I hear that new Asian fusion place on Dixie is to die for. Let’s go there. Pick you up around seven?”

  I can’t help but get a little excited. Her enthusiasm is contagious.

  Maybe a girls’ night is just what I need. It can’t hurt.

  “Seven sounds great,” I tell her with a smile of my own. It isn’t as big as hers but it’s the best I can manage, all things considered.

  “Oh! I’m so happy!” she squeals, rushing around my desk to hug me tightly.

  As soon as her arms around me, I want to burst into tears. I haven’t hugged anyone in so long. I’m starved for human contact.

  She props herself up on the edge of my desk and I tilt my chair back to look at her.

  Clearing my throat to hide my emotion, I ask, “So how’s everything with you?”

  Shrugging, she gives a noncommittal grunt.

  “Not much has changed,” she shares solemnly. “I just missed my best friend.”

  We talk until it’s time to go retrieve our kiddos from their specials and I can’t deny the extra spring in my step following our conversation.

  Maybe I’m going to be okay after all.

  ***

  After school I head into the parking lot to my car.

  Getting a new loan with a repossession on my record was not an easy feat. The interest rate is freaking high but it provides me with peace of mind. It was either this or hopping on a bus every morning at a quarter to six to get to school by seven.

  Rifling through my purse, I search for my keys while looking at my phone to compose a text message to my mom.

  I’ve never been too good at multitasking and that fact is made clear when I collide with a solid brick wall.

  “Ouch!” I groan, reaching up to rub my forehead.

  And that’s when I notice I’ve already made it to the parking lot. The asphalt beneath my feet gives it away.

  Which means it couldn’t be a brick wall.

  Looking up, my eyes collide with cobalt eyes that I thought I would never see again. I lose the grip on my bags and they fall at my feet as my heart begins pounding in my ears.

  The swoosh of blood is all I hear until he opens his mouth to speak.

  “I don’t remember you being this clumsy, Cupcake.”

  Andrew.

  My Andrew.

  He’s here!

  But why?

  After all this time, what made him come to me?

  “What are you doing here?” I ask with a hitch in my voice.

  Andrew kneels before me to pick up my scattered things.

  “We need to talk,” he says, standing to full towering height again. He doesn’t hand over my stuff, but instead keeps them in his firm grasp.

  My heart won’t stop galloping and I’m glad he has my stuff because with my sweaty palms, I’m bound to drop it all over again.

  “Talk about what?”

  It’s been three months. What could there possibly be to discuss?

  “Everything.”

  Gaping up at him, I struggle to find words.

  “What’s different?” I ask, curious about his change of heart. “I thought you were done with me.”

  “I have some things to get off my chest,” Andrew states watching me closely.

  Dread fills me at his words. He’s here for closure. Nothing more. Another crack joins the fractured remnants of my heart.

  “And for the record, I could never be done with you, Cupcake. Not even if I tried.”

  Gulping, I run my slick palms over my skirt and look everywhere but at his eyes. I don’t like the hope blossoming in my heart so I try to squelch it before it gets out of hand.

  “I’m sorry for everything,” I blurt, needing him to believe me.

  My actions led to our demise and I need him to know I take full responsibility for that.

  We continue the walk to my car in silence and I lean up against the passenger door for support.

  “Look, I understand it was a fucked-up situation. You did what you thought was best for your company. I can’t be mad at that.” He shifts from one foot to another and then continues. “I just wish you had trusted me enough to confide in me. I can’t say that my reaction would have been positive, but you never even gave me that chance.”

  Tears spring up out of nowhere and I feel my face crumple.

  “I know,” I cry, covering my mouth with my hands. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  Forty-five

  ANDREW

  Watching her break down in front of me constricts my chest and makes it hard to breathe.

  I’ve missed her more than I’ve ever missed another human being. Each day got harder instead of easier. Nothing I did could get me out of my slump. My art didn’t provide the same escape. Nor did my pursuit of women — I had no interest in even looking at one.

  There’s only one woman I want on my bucket list.

  I accepted my fate. My body only wants Lilah. No substitute could ever compare.

  Insanity was right around the corner before I finally got in my car determined to put an end to my misery.

  What started as a drive to clear my mind led me to her. As soon as I saw her walking out of the front entrance, my heart skipped a beat and I knew what my brother told me all those months ago was true.

  I love her.

  I just hadn’t been ready to hear it yet. Especially in the wake of our blowout.

  But now I’m confident that it’s the truth. Love is the only possible explanation for my dependency on her. Something deep inside of me needs her more than I need my next breath and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating.

  “I didn’t come here to make you cry,” I say in a tight voice.

  “Sorry,” Lilah voices shakily.

  When I reach out to wipe her tears, she starts crying harder.

  My scowl is instant. I don’t do well with crying women. Especially when it’s the one I love.

  “You’re killing me here, Lilah. Why are you crying?” I ask, using my thumb to brush away the moisture gathered on her smooth cheeks.

  “It kills me knowing that I hurt you, Andrew. You have to believe me. I never would—”

  “Shh,” I place a finger against her lips and pull her into my arms.

  The moment she’s tucked against my chest, peace settles over me and I feel like I’m home.

  “We don’t have to rehash the past right now,” I tell her. “I’m here because I can’t get you out of my system. Nothing feels the same when you aren’t in my bed every night. Whatever differences we need to work out, so be it. You’re worth the effort because I love you and that isn’t changing any time soon.”

  Lilah gasps at my revelation, pulling away from my chest to peer up at me with those beautiful eyes.

  “You love me?”

  Nodding, I run my fingers through the mass of hair brushing her shoulders.

  “But I lied to you and broke your trust,” she points out. “I wouldn’t love me if I were you,” Lilah concludes and I see moisture gathering in her eyes again.

  I bend down and press a kiss to her forehead. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not me.”

  The smile that transforms her face roots me to the spot. It’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. And maybe I am.

  But she’s so damn beautiful it doesn’t make sense. Even teary-eyed and looking thin. She’s breathtaking and her presence alone has restored a part of me I never thought I would get back.

  “Andrew… I love you, too.”

  Stunned silent, I stare at her as if she just told me she was from a different planet.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she questions, folding her arms across her chest.

  “I just didn’t expect you to say that’s all.”

  Shaking her head, she sighs. “I guess that’s my fault. I
never told you because I was scared of how it would end.”

  It makes sense considering everything else she was harboring at the time. Now that I’ve had time to process it all, I can’t blame her for her boundless ambition. Misguided or not, she did what she had to do so that her project could flourish.

  An outcome she sacrificed when she realized Edward’s true intentions. She stood up for me, asserting her loyalty and delaying her dream in the process.

  What’s not to respect about that?

  Dropping my forehead to hers, I whisper, “I missed you, Cupcake.”

  “Did you miss me enough to give me a second chance?” she asks hopefully, her lips brushing mine as she speaks.

  I want nothing more than take her lips in a possessive kiss to reclaim what’s mine. Fighting the urge, I focus on her question.

  “Whatever you want. I just need you back. The last few months have been torture without you.”

  Finally, I give in to my desire and lock my lips over hers in a greedy kiss. She tastes just like I remember. Sweet with a noticeable tanginess. There’s no other way to describe besides saying she tastes like Lilah.

  I hug her tight to me and gaze at the remaining cars in the parking lot. It’s nearing six o’clock so it’s nearly empty.

  Now that I have her back, I won’t let her escape again. We have too much time to make up for. There’s a whole other side of her I have yet to uncover and I’m looking forward to every second of it.

  “Come home with me.” I speak against her hair, taking in the fruity scent that clung to my pillows long after she was gone.

  Lilah peeks up at me and the hunger in her eyes catches me off guard. It’s like she transformed right before my eyes. Her desire is almost palpable and reignites something inside of me that fizzled out a long time ago.

  Blood rushes to my groin.

  It feels wrong to have these feelings in an elementary school parking lot and I’m more eager than ever to get her out of here and into my bed.

  “Just let me cancel my plans.”

  Jealousy rips through me at her words. It’s been three months. Why had I automatically assumed she hadn’t moved on?

  Reading something on my face, Lilah touches my arm gently.

  “Relax. My plans were with Charli. Don’t go ruining the mood with your caveman antics,” she warns playfully, putting me at ease.

  After she sends the text to Charli, I grab her bags again and ask if it’s okay to leave her car here overnight. When she tells me that it’ll be fine, we get in my car and head to my house to get reacquainted.

  Epilogue

  LILAH

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  Winter in Connecticut is always a humbling experience. Between the nipple-hardening temperature and all the ice I slip on without fail, it’s a wonder I’m ever able to get in the Christmas spirit.

  But I’m feeling it this year. More than usual.

  School is out until January and I’ve just finished some last-minute Christmas shopping. Now, as I drive home, I tap my fingers against the steering wheel as I wait for the light to change.

  I’m anxious as ever to see Andrew and kiss him under the mistletoe I just bought.

  Andrew’s not big on Christmas. But with Gladys’ help I transformed his house into a winter wonderland. Even he can’t resist the merry spirit going around when his house looks like Santa’s workshop.

  Parking in front of the house, I frown when I see a Bentley parked ahead of mine on the horseshoe driveway.

  There’s only one person I know who owns a car like that. Grabbing my bags from the car, I hustle up the steps and unlock the door with my key.

  I moved in last month after the heat in my apartment broke. Andrew had been adamant that I stay with him at least through the winter, not taking no for an answer. And of course I gave in.

  Who wouldn’t want to live in the lap of luxury? If only for a few months…

  In the foyer, I hear voices coming from the kitchen and my suspicions are confirmed.

  Edward’s here.

  With a huff, I try to hold on to the cheerful mood I had before but it’s damned hard.

  Dropping my bags in the entryway, I make my way to the kitchen and see the brothers having a heated discussion over beer.

  When Andrew notices me by the entrance, he gives me a smile that instantly puts me at ease.

  Beckoning me to his side, he continues talking to Edward whose back is to me.

  The two of them have been trying to work out their relationship recently and while I’m happy Andrew and his only sibling are communicating again, my distrust for Edward hasn’t subsided.

  “Hey, Cupcake,” Andrew greets me softly, pressing a kiss against my lips. “Missed you.”

  Butterflies invade my stomach and I feel like a schoolgirl caught up on her first crush. I’d only been gone for a couple of hours, but he made feel like my absence had shifted the course of his day.

  It’s cheesy, but I love it.

  “Hi Lilah.” Edward clears his throat behind me.

  “Be nice,” Andrew mouths for my eyes only.

  Turning, I give him a cordial smile.

  “How’s it going, Edward?”

  His typically cool, grey eyes actually hold a touch of warmth today. Edward’s answer is succinct before he glances at his watch and announces that he has somewhere else to be soon.

  Left alone in the kitchen, I turn to Andrew.

  “What was that about?”

  Shrugging, Andrew gets down from his barstool to fetch another beer from the fridge.

  “He came over to drop something off and then we ended up discussing a business opportunity.”

  “Hmm, that’s nice,” I hum tactfully. Although I want to say more, I keep my thoughts to myself.

  Who am I to interfere? They’re rebuilding their relationship and I’m going to stay out of it. If Andrew can forgive him for all the fucked-up shit that transpired, then I can at least try.

  A month ago, our friend Natalia hosted a showing of Andrew’s artwork at her renovated warehouse gallery. Friends and family came out and supported him, including Edward, who brought his girlfriend. Although Andrew has never said as much, I knew that Edward’s presence there meant a lot.

  I overheard Edward say to his girlfriend that his mom would have been proud of Andrew’s talent. I wanted to say something, but tears of happiness overwhelmed me. Perhaps if Edward can respect Andrew’s talent, then their relationship can be healed.

  The only reason Andrew gave him another chance at forgiveness at all is because he’s the reason we got back together in the first place.

  Still, it doesn’t stop my protective instinctive from kicking in. I’ll kick Edward’s ass if he even thinks about hurting Andrew. Not that Andrew can’t hold his own.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Andrew asks, reclaiming his seat at the bar and pulling me between his legs.

  “Just thinking,” I say nonchalantly. “What else did you do while I was gone?”

  “I’ll tell you if you tell me what you bought while you were out,” Andrew bargains.

  He’s been trying to figure out my gift for him since Thanksgiving! For someone who doesn’t really get into Christmas, he sure is curious.

  “Who said I bought anything?” I ask him evasively.

  “I heard bags drop before you walked in here,” he tells me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I assure him with a slight shrug even as a playful smirk lifts my lips.

  “Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll find out soon enough.”

  ***

  Later that night, Andrew calls me into his studio when I finish tidying the kitchen.

  Gladys is on vacation for the next two weeks so I’ve stepped up to do the bulk of the housework. It’s the least I can do since I’m living here rent free.

  In Andrew’s studio, I reach the landing and peer at him.

  “What’s up?”

  “I have something to sh
ow you. Come here,” he commands, pointing at the spot in front of him.

  Walking over, I look at him curiously. There’s something weird in his voice but I can’t put my finger on it.

  Once I’m standing in front of him he pulls a canvas from a nearby table and extends it in my direction.

  “I know it’s not Christmas yet but I want you to have this since we’ll be at your mom’s house on the actual day. This is a little difficult to carry on the plane,” he states as my eyes roam over it.

  It’s an abstract piece, comprised of the colors red and black. The swirling tones are most intense in the center of the painting while the outer edges are only splattered with faint red lines.

  My eyes scan over it several times in quick succession. For some reason passion and love jump out at me as I take it all in.

  I love it.

  Smiling, I express gratitude. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

  Andrew grins. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

  It’s a painting. What is he talking about?

  “I thought the whole purpose of an abstract painting was that the meaning is left up to the interpretation of the observer.”

  My eyes travel back to the painting again, trying to make out any distinctive figures or clues. But I come up empty. The colors are fused together so well it’s like they were made to complement each other. Perfectly coming together like two lovers meant for each other’s bodies.

  “We made this,” Andrew fills me in as I continue gawking at it.

  My frown is apparent with this new information.

  “What are you talking about, us? I’ve never painted…”

  And that’s when it comes rushing back to me.

  That night after the movies. We’d painted each other and fucked like rabbits right on top of this canvas.

  Mouth wide, I look at the painting with new eyes this time. Every splash and smear of paint is more significant now.

  When I turn my eyes back to Andrew, he isn’t there. Well, he is but he isn’t standing.

  Kneeling beside me, he opens a red ring box and tears instantly clog my throat.

  Oh, my God.