The Wedding Gift

by Judy Kentrus

  She took a step closer. “Explain why you let me make a fool of myself?”

  “I’d be glad to, but you are thinking crazy. Nothing I’d say would make sense in your frame of mind.” When she didn’t lower the pitchfork and took another threatening step closer, Preston decided his woman was being unreasonable and it was time to retreat and get the hell out of harm’s way. He backed toward the door. “When you calm down, I’ll be by the pond. I’m in the mood for kisses and s’mores.”

  Cindi’s legs stayed frozen in place as she watched him walk away and called herself every kind of fool. “You haven’t seen him in a week and you threaten your fiancée with a pitchfork full of shit.” Her confession committee retreated to the safety of a hay-strewn stall and gave her the evil eye. “Don’t worry, the impulse is gone,” she said, and rested the weapon against the wall. “It was wrong to go at Preston like that, but he pissed me off.” She sighed deeply. “Kisses and s’mores, what a temptation. The man certainly knows what I like, and it isn’t just purple roses or romantic movies. He’s a real good kisser. Better get out there and apologize before Santa puts my name in bold letters on the naughty list.”

  Preston tossed a burnt offering into the orange and blue flames in frustration. Nothing was going right. Couldn’t even toast a damn marshmallow! Several melted failures had plopped off the stick onto the dirt. The large, puffy squares would be declared sacrificial lambs by the time Cindi accepted his offer of s’mores. The kissing part was still up in the air. Relief filled his body at the sound of shuffled footsteps in back of him. He put a fresh marshmallow on the tip of the stick and held it above the dancing flames.

  “You did all this for me?” Cindi approached the front of the bench and didn’t see the charred mush on the ground. The gunky mess was as slippery as ice, and the bottom of her boot shot forward. She reached out to try and stop herself from falling, and her hand caught Preston’s arm, the one that held the marshmallow stick. The momentum shot his arm up, catapulting the melting pillow into the air.

  “Ewww,” she cried, plucking the icky blob that landed on the front of her head and oozed down her cheek. She lifted her boot to examine the black, chewing-gum-like sludge. “That is disgusting!” She turned her head and glowered at him. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

  Preston sank his teeth into his bottom lip. “I promise, but that’s not as bad as the shit you threatened to toss on me.” He reached for the package of wet wipes. “Sit, I’ll clean your face.”

  “Okay.” She pouted and took the seat next to him. She’d expected her butt to feel the bottom of the hard bench, but it was reasonably soft and spongy.

  “Tell me I’m not sitting on what I think I’m sitting on,” she said.

  “Okay, I won’t mention you are sitting on the marshmallows.” Preston said it with a straight face and concentrated on wiping the white streaks off her cheek and forehead. When it was clean, he cupped her chin. Her bottom lip was quivering, and it was obvious she was holding back a flood of tears. “Come here.” He placed a butterfly-soft kiss on each cheek before seizing her mouth in a sweet, loving kiss. His entire body hummed with relief. He was home, holding his love. “I’ve been craving you and a kiss all week.” He picked up the blanket and drew it about them, forming a cocoon of love.

  Cindi snuggled her head on his shoulder and curled an arm around his waist. He was toasty warm, and the collar of his shirt had absorbed the woodsy scent from the fire. “This is more like the welcome home I planned, but not here.”

  “What was your plan?”

  “I would be at our house and welcome you home with lots of kisses. Then we would make use of our Jacuzzi tub and our new bed. After I let you have your way with me, I was going to tell you about the gifts.”

  “That is exactly what I planned, but I would confess my collusion with the Cindi patrol. In between cursing in frustration, I practiced what I would say to you all the way home.”

  “You never did tell me how you managed to bypass a snowstorm and get home. Did you hitch a ride with Santa?”

  “No, but the US Air Force performed a good deed for a friend in need.” Preston told her about his hellish journey from Denver. “I was like a crazy man when I found out my flight was cancelled. All I wanted to do was get home to you.”

  “Did you think I would be tempted to cheat on you?” It hurt to ask, but she needed to know his answer.

  Preston adjusted his arms and drew Cindi to sit on his lap, before tightening the blanket about them. “The thought never entered my mind. I love you, Cindi, and I have never known such happiness.”

  “Me too.” She kissed him softly. “I love you so much. Why all this conspiracy stuff and the need to keep me busy in the evening?”

  “It was to keep you safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  “You are not going to like what I’m going to say.”

  “Is it the truth?”

  “Absolutely”

  “Okay, try me.”

  “Leland is pursuing you to get back at me.”

  “That’s impossible!” Disbelief filled her voice. “He never met you until the other night.”

  “Do you know anything about his father?”

  “No, other than he’s a lawyer and has lots of money. Why?”

  “I was basically responsible for sending his father to prison.”

  “What!” Cindi pulled back, making the blanket fall away. A brisk wind came up, and she shivered from the unexpected chill. “How long ago?”

  “Before I came to work for Adams Security. When you said his name the other night, warning bells went off in my head. My evidence convicted Leland, Sr. and a couple of others.”

  “That means he wasn’t interested in me at all. He sent those gifts to make you think I was I cheating and you would call off the wedding. He spent all that money for nothing.” Cindi shivered again.

  Preston caught the edge of the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I know he is a friend from your past and it’s your nature to look for the good in people, but there was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way. I hacked into Leland’s personal finances and he is following in his father’s footsteps. To cover our asses, I brought Lincoln into the loop, and he notified Nate Haines, his buddy in the FBI, so they can open their own investigation.”

  “Do you think he purposely came to Laurel Heights to seek you out?”

  “You are one smart cookie, my love, but that is a question I can’t answer.”

  Cindi tapped her chin with her finger. “Did he see you in court?”

  “I testified for the IRS and FBI, and the only people present were the lawyers, defendants, and the jury.”

  “As a lawyer, wouldn’t he have access to court records?”

  “I see where you are going with this. I no longer work for Marsden Consulting, so how did he know where to find me? I’ve always maintained a low profile.”

  They stared at one another and came up with the answer together. “The soapbox derby!”

  “Our picture was all over the news and the internet five months ago.” Cindi rolled her forehead against the tip of Preston’s chin. “What do we do now?”

  “We forget about last week and concentrate on getting some rest—that is, after I give you the two requested orgasms you mentioned earlier.” His lips found the tip of her earlobe and he breathed. “I haven’t made love to you in five days, so I’ll throw in a bonus orgasm. We can practice for our wedding night. Let’s use Pansy rather than my rental car.”

  “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing the past couple of months?” Cindi laughed. “You might think I’m being sentimental, but I don’t want to make love in our new bed until we are Mr. and Mrs. Preston Reynolds. Plus the bed in the apartment is a lot closer.”

  “I like the sound of that, and practice makes perfect.”

  Preston hoped Leland wouldn’t do something to screw up their plans.

  Chapter 8

  Town Square was bustling with acti
vity when Cindi and Preston arrived Saturday morning to help set up before Santa’s arrival at twelve noon. A huge balled pine tree dominated the center of the park. The citizens had the official tree lighting the Saturday after Thanksgiving, a week ago. After the holidays, it would be planted in front of the newly constructed Norman Taylor Community Center, slated to open the following year. The tall lights around the park resembled red and white candy canes. Dangling from the tip of the cane was a lit carriage-style lantern. Prefabricated structures, the size of large garden sheds, had been erected on either side of the gazebo to create Santa’s village. As a special art project, a group of high school students had painted the little houses to resemble the North Pole. The little houses were decorated in colored lights, giving contrast to the frame of the gazebo outlined in thousands of white lights. An illuminated arch, bordered by mounds of colorfully wrapped presents, had been erected to shelter Santa’s chair. The Needlers’ Club from Trinity Church had recovered the thick cushion of the golden, throne-like chair, in red velvet with brass-colored braiding.

  One of the houses, designated Santa’s Toy Shop, was the drop-off center for gifts to needy children. As a thank you for their donation, the kids were given a ticket for a horse-drawn wagon ride around Town Square. The volunteer firemen had set up a small fire pit to keep the children and their parents’ toasty warm while the librarian read holiday stories. One of the huts displayed a menorah. Mrs. Bernstein volunteered to show the children how to make dreidels out of pretzel sticks, marshmallows, and candy kisses, while her husband Harvey told them the story about dreidels and their symbolic markings, Shin, Hey, Gimel, and Nun.

  Sallie Mae Whipper, owner of the Spoonful Café, and her brother Northrup, who owned the local lumberyard and home center, occupied another little house that displayed ornaments honoring Kwanzaa, the African-American festival observed the day after Christmas to the first day of the New Year. For a craft, they planned to do corncob painting.

  Cindi and Preston were inside Mrs. Claus’s kitchen, where children would be invited to have hot chocolate, warm apple cider, cookies, and treats donated by individuals and town merchants.

  “You make an adorable elf.” Cindi adjusted the red Robin Hood-like hat on Preston’s head. “It’s a good thing most of the visitors will be under the age of ten, because your butt looks hot in those green tights.”

  “What do you mean?” Preston tried not to look offended, but now he felt self-conscious. “The red tunic comes to just above my knees. No one is going to see my ass.” He reached for another tray and continued to line up pretzel rods that had been dipped in white chocolate and colorful sprinkles.

  Cindi leaned in to his ear and patted his cute bottom. “I am the only one who knows what’s under said tunic.”

  “Minx!” He grinned.

  She bent slightly to adjust her candy cane striped tights before twirling about, making the short, jitterbug-like skirt flare out. Since Preston had elected to wear black boots, she’d purchased a pair in white leather that hugged her ankles. Her red Santa hat matched the color of her costume. “I love the fake fur on the hem and at the bottom of my long sleeves. At least I won’t be cold.” She winked at Preston, and began to sing, “I’ve got a hot elf to keep me warm.”

  “You are having residual effects from last night’s welcome-home celebration. Not that I’m complaining.” They’d barely made it up the stairs when she led him into the shower and proceeded to lovingly wash away the hurt and anguish they’d suffered the past week. When they finally made it into bed, they reaffirmed their love for one another in words and actions.

  Preston was glad she liked the imitation fur look. As a special wedding gift, he’d contacted the company making the faux-fur muffs for her attendants and requested a shawl-like wrap for her to wear when they left the church, since they would be riding in an open horse-drawn carriage. It had been hard keeping the good secrets, especially her surprise personal shower they were having for her this evening at the Spoonful. He planned to spend the evening at the Roadhouse with Lincoln and their other friends, Sam Morlock, Scott Landis, and Russell Long, watching a New York Rangers-Islanders hockey game on television.

  By eleven thirty, excitement filled the air. Parents and children of all ages were lined up to see Santa. When “We Need a Little Christmas” blasted through the speakers attached to top of the gazebo, everyone cheered, and a few sang along.

  Cindi glanced around the interior of Mrs. Claus’s kitchen to make sure everything was a go. The urns of hot cocoa and hot apple cider were ready. Samantha’s soldier cookies and the rest of the treats were displayed on large trays. Preston had volunteered to take the first inside shift to keep Cindi well supplied with drinks and treats to hand out to the visitors who came to Santa’s village.

  She needed a few moments of Cindi and Preston time. All morning, she’d put on a good front, but she was worried, worried that Thomas Leland would do something to mess up their plans or prevent her from marrying Preston. He’d just set a tray of candy cane marshmallow pops on the wide shelf that lined the oversize front window. She slipped her arms around his waist, rested her cheek on his chest, and slowly breathed him in. “Are you ready for the stampede?”

  His arms automatically surrounded her. She was shaking, and he pressed a hand to the center of her back, drawing her closer. They’d both been putting on a good act. He was worried, really worried. Reggie, from their New York office, had sent the last bit of information Preston needed to confirm Leland knew his identity from the start. One of Leland’s partners had accessed the trial records. Their head computer tech could be counted on to go above and beyond researching a situation, and had discovered the holiday reunion was Leland’s suggestion, and he’d offered to pay for the entire party.

  “How do I let you talk me into these things?”

  “Because you love me?”

  “That has to be it.” He kissed her on the temple, being careful not to dislodge her silly hat. “Now tell me what’s really bothering you.”

  “I know we agreed not to talk about Thomas Leland, but do you think we have to be concerned he’ll come after you?”

  “If I said no, that would give you a false sense of security. I don’t trust him, and I’m just as concerned about your safety. Don’t get angry, but you will be getting additional personal security. Remember, Lincoln insisted all top-level personnel and undercover agents be implanted with a tracking chip.”

  “That was two years ago, and my job isn’t considered top secret.”

  “With everything that has been going on, Lincoln suggested you have one implanted in your arm.”

  She lifted her head from his chest and tapped him on the chin. “Personally, I think it’s overkill, but we can talk about it. When were you going to tell me?”

  “I’d planned on it last evening, but a certain someone totally distracted me with a pitchfork full of cow manure, sticky marshmallow gunk, and really hot sex.”

  “Good save.” She stood on tiptoes and bussed his lips with a quick kiss.

  Preston needed more. He always needed more of his Cindi. He grazed her pretty lips once, twice with the tip of his tongue, before he kissed her deeply, profoundly.

  Cindi’s heart was beating wildly in her chest, and she breathlessly asked, “What was that for?”

  “Because I love you.” He hadn’t planned to kiss her so passionately in a public building, but when it came to Cindi Pearl, he lost control. “Now, back to our discussion about your security. Don’t be surprised if you have an unusual bodyguard.” When she opened her mouth to ask another question, he put a finger to her red lips. “You will know.”

  “Enough depressing thoughts.” She hugged him tightly around the neck, stepped back, and spun around like a top. “Christmas is coming, and today we have fun!”

  They’d just stepped outside their house when Samantha came rushing up, but they were distracted by her companion. “I thought we were going to be late.” Samantha passed Preston two more pla
stic containers of cookies. “The mayor got a phone call from the Spring Meadow center. Since it’s such a beautiful day and not that cold, they’re bringing some of the residents to listen to the high school chorus and band perform holiday music this afternoon. If you need anything else, call my cell.”

  “Why are you rushing? Slow down a minute and have a cup of hot chocolate.”

  “Can’t, gotta go! Working on a special project.”

  “What project?”

  “I’ll tell you tonight,” Sam replied hurriedly, going through the mental checklist in her head. Meet Grayson Wolff at the Roadhouse to pick up the special order of Perrier-Jouet Blason Rosé champagne, rum for the eggnog punch, and vodka for the watermelon. Handling food and drinks wasn’t the biggest challenge. Sallie Mae had gone a little crazy ordering the decorations for this personal shower. How much helium did you put in pastel penis balloons? Should they all be the same size? Guys didn’t have the same size peckers? They’d asked the wrong woman to do this job.

  Cindi was trying to figure out the identity of Samantha’s companion who hadn’t uttered a word. The tall, muscular man had plastered his face with green face paint and was wearing a Grinch costume. The tats on the back of his fingers gave him away. “Clyde, is that you? Great job on the makeup! The kids are going to be thrilled.”

  “Hi, Miss Cindi, Preston. I feel silly, but I’d only do this for you and the children.”

  “Are you…” She never finished, but smiled at his quick nod.

  Just before noon, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” blasted from the speakers, signaling the start of the Laurel Heights Christmas and Holiday Festival and, most important, Santa’s arrival. Since there wasn’t any snow to use a sleigh, one of the farmers in the area had offered the use of a horse-drawn buckboard. The golden brown dapple mare wore a set of antlers and had a fake red nose. Santa ho-ho-ho’d and waved to the children who had gathered to greet him. Don Huff, the local insurance agent, and his wife Charlotte had been playing Mr. and Mrs. Claus for years. The couple made it a point to visit elderly shut-ins as well as area hospitals. The jolly old elf jumped down from the wooden seat, and helped Mrs. Claus to the curb before gathering his large green sack. Children followed the couple up the path that led to his chair, like the Pied Piper. Once he was seated with exaggerated flare and numerous ho-ho-hos, Mrs. Claus had everyone sing “Jingle Bells,” before the first little girl sat on Santa’s lap.