Santa's Pet

by Rachelle Ayala

  His body stiffens and he tips my chin up. “You mean the way you and my brother are? Just friends? I know about the benefit concert, Brittney, and I know my brother. He doesn’t do anything for a girl he doesn’t want to tap. But once he’s tapped someone, he’s done with her. Finito.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “That’s because he hasn’t had you yet. Find out how many notches are on his guitar neck.”

  ~ Ben ~

  Ben didn’t like the way Brittney defended his brother. Not one bit. She had no clue what kind of guy she was dealing with—a silver-tongued singer who’d strum his way into a girl’s heart and bed before flitting away to another gig on the other side of the country.

  Nash sure hadn’t paid attention to their mother growing up. He never did his chores and charmed his way out of any whipping, leaving Ben or his other brothers to take the blame.

  “Anyway, I don’t care how many notches Nash has on his guitar neck, belt, rifle, bedpost, or anything else notchable.” Brittney tipped the mug and finished the remainder of her not so hot chocolate. “Thank you for sharing your family’s Christmas cabin with me. I hope Grandpa Powers will come back to enjoy it again.”

  The fire was dying down, and embers flicked behind the grill of the fireplace. Ben reached over and stoked the fire, but in his heart, he knew the night was over. The chocolate tasted bitter and the dregs of being friend-zoned burned in his throat along with the last drop of whiskey.

  Brittney got up to take her empty mug to the kitchen, and Ben followed her. He wasn’t going to let her walk off angry. Maybe he was too messed up to ever have a relationship with anyone, but he wasn’t going to let his special angel get away. Why had she turned off after he said he wanted to wait? That it would be unforgettable?

  “Let me get that.” He took the mug from her. “Look, I don’t get why you’re putting me in the friend-zone. I thought we had something back there. Is it because I want to take it slow? Because if you want me to have sex with you, I can definitely do it. I can make you come three ways ’til Sunday and then some.”

  She heaved her shoulders and blew out a puff of air. “I’m really tired, Ben. We should slow down. It’s like we’re never on the same wavelength.”

  “I’d like to be on the same wavelength. I’ve never met anyone I want to be with more than you.” He cleaned the mugs and rinsed them. “If you want to start as friends, that’s fine too. But the way I feel about you, I’m bound to want more.”

  He didn’t dare look at her while pouring his heart out. Instead he set the mugs in the dishrack and wiped down the counter.

  “What do you feel about me?” She stood so close, he could sense her heart beat, feel the air she breathed.

  “That you’re precious. I know it’s too early to fall in love, or to talk about the future, but I can’t see a life without you.” He stood stiffly with both hands on the counter, staring at the colors swirling in the soap bubbles as they popped, one by one.

  Her hands slid around his waist and she rested herself against his back, holding him. It felt good, really, really good, and Ben’s heart melted as he closed his eyes, turned around and tucked her into his arms.

  “I want the same, Ben.” She pressed herself against him. “And I get that you respect me. The truth is, I don’t want to play games and get laid or hook up. I just want someone to love who’s worth waiting for. This might sound old-fashioned, but I never understood how people could have sex without love, and even though I did it, it didn’t feel good or special. That’s why I don’t go out. That’s why my sister thought I was so boring no one would ever think I’m sexy.”

  “You’re sexy. Trust me. But more than that, you’re someone men fall in love with.”

  She snorted. “You talk as if so many men have fallen in love with me before.”

  “I’m sure they have, from a distance. You’re not the most approachable. If it hadn’t been for your wardrobe malfunction and us getting arrested together, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “You’re pretty intimidating yourself, Big Ben.” She looked up at him, grinning. “Big man on campus. Top football draft pick.”

  “That remains to be seen.” He felt himself relaxing as a smile creased over his face. “Let’s start over. Dinner with me Friday night after I take Grandpa back to his place?”

  “Back to date number one?” She swayed lightly in his arms.

  “Yes, kickoff and first kiss.”

  “Sounds good to me.” She tipped on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Big Ben. I have to get up early to make Eggs Bennett. It’ll be Christmas morning in a few hours.”

  “Then I’d better get down the chimney and put your gift under the tree.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “Goodnight, Brittzen, the most famous flamingo of all.”

  Chapter Thirty

  ~ Brittney ~

  I wake up to howling winds banging the shutters outside the bedroom window. The big four poster bed is so comfy and snuggly, I don’t feel like getting out of it. Even though I should get up to cook “Christmas” breakfast, I want to close my eyes and dream a little longer about Ben.

  He, of course, is not in the bed with me. He spent the night in the loft accessed by a built-in ladder. I was too tired to explore, but after breakfast, I’m going to climb up and see what kind of trouble he got into up there.

  I’m about to fall back asleep when I catch a whiff of coffee. Ben’s up already? A smile tickles my face that he’s up so early in the morning. I bet his hair’s standing to one side and he’s scruffy with a day’s growth of whiskers.

  Last night, or actually early this morning, we wished each other goodnight, hugged, and slept separately. Now that sex is off the table, I can breathe easier. Someday, I’ll worry if I’m good enough in bed, having not had much training, but Ben saying he wants to be with me for life is so much better than a one night stand.

  Stretching my arms wide, I throw off the covers and wander into the bathroom. As I freshen up and shower, I find it hard to believe there’s a world outside of this magical Christmas cottage. What if we’ve entered a Yuletide Zone, sort of like a Christmassy Twilight Zone, a parallel universe where loving and giving is the only rule year round, and everyone is kind and charitable. In the Yuletide Zone, every song is a Christmas carol, every morning is Christmas morning, and every breath of air is full of holiday cheer. Sleigh bells tinkle and chestnuts pop, and happy feelings fill the entire universe.

  By the time I emerge from the bathroom in a clean pair of sweats, a tank top and an old flannel plaid shirt I find in the closet, Ben already has breakfast cooked. He’s wearing a pair of well-worn jeans, a red and green plaid shirt, and a Santa’s hat, looking so much like a sexy lumberjack with his unshaven beard shadow. Wow. He’s all the gift I need, ever.

  I amble toward him, pretending not to be affected by his studliness. “Wait, I was supposed to do the Eggs Bennett.”

  “You snooze, you lose.” He reels me in for a quick kiss. “I made Breakfast Britt-chetta. Scrambled eggs, smashed avocado, cherry tomatoes, scallions and pesto over toasted mini baguettes.”

  “You named a recipe after me?”

  “Family tradition.”

  His words make my heart gooey and warm. I snuggle closer and kiss his lips again. He tastes like olive oil and pesto, no doubt from tasting the tapenade he made. “Merry Christmas morning.”

  “Merry Christmas, always.” He nuzzles my nose with his, and I swear, we’re probably sickening enough to be barf inducing if anyone happened to be watching.

  The record player is already stacked with classic Christmas songs, and the lights are sparkling on the tree. Sunlight streams through the lacey kitchen curtains, and the scent of pine mixes with the aroma of coffee and breakfast. Everything is picture perfect. How I wish Grandpa Powers could see his cottage now.

  “May I get my phone and take a picture? I want to send it to your grandfather.”

  Ben hands me the old camera. “Nice try,
but it’s fifty years ago and telephones can’t take pictures.”

  I remember to wind the film and point the camera at Ben, catching him with a spatula. Can he get more perfect? Who could beat cooking and manning the kitchen on Christmas morn?

  Somehow, we make it through breakfast with our clothes on, although we stopped every few bites to kiss and cuddle. Yes, very nauseating for any audience, which thankfully we don’t have.

  “Time for your present.” Ben produces a tiny box, wrapped in aluminum foil.

  “I didn’t have time to get you anything.”

  “Don’t worry, I found this in the attic.”

  “Don’t tell me, this is a Cracker Jack box ring.”

  Elvis is singing “Merry Christmas Baby” and talking about a diamond ring, good music on his radio, and feeling mighty fine.

  “I’m not that cheap. I hope you like them.” His grin turns shy. “I think it’s okay to give these to you.”

  “You mean, they belong to your grandmother?”

  “My mom. Go ahead, open it.”

  A lump rises in my throat. “I’m not sure. We barely know each other. Maybe she wants you to keep it for someone special.”

  “More special than you? I don’t think so.” His gaze turns earnest and he bites his lower lip while Elvis is singing the blues about kissing under the mistletoe.

  “Okay.” I lower my face, but it’s too late. I’m sure he sees me blushing. All my life, I wanted to be special to someone. I try not to think about it, but being adopted means the first person in my life rejected me, even though the second and third people, my mom and dad, wanted me. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Yes, you’re the one. It’s not anything big.”

  By now, my hands are shaking. It can’t be her engagement ring because she has two other sons and his father would have it in Wyoming. What would she have left in the attic?

  I rip off the aluminum foil, open the box and find a pair of earrings. “They’re beautiful. Are they little angels?”

  “Yes, see the vintage silver wings?”

  “I love them. Can you put them on me?” I scramble to remove the plain studs I’m wearing.

  Ben’s breath is hot over me as he attaches the crystal and teardrop pearl earrings. “My mom would have liked you.”

  “I would have liked her too.” I wrap my hands around him. “Everything in this cottage speaks of her. I feel as if she’s here, sitting in the corner on a rocking chair, smiling at us.”

  “Maybe she never left.” His eyes are watery, but he’s smiling. “We’re the ones who left.”

  “Then we must come back every year.”

  “We will.” He brings my lips to his and kisses me slowly and tenderly as Elvis sings “Playing for Keeps.”

  ~ Ben ~

  Ben could kiss and dance with Brittney forever. He was playing for keeps, and if he weren’t already in love, he was fast falling in love with Brittney.

  Her body fit his perfectly, soft against hard, and the way she swayed, in perfect sync with him, made his heart feel full and content. Somehow he didn’t miss his mother as much now that Brittney was in his arms. She truly was the perfect woman for him, and he’d enjoy every moment with her, cherish every memory and give her his whole heart. Elvis had segued to “Loving You,” and Ben knew it was true. He’d always be true to Brittney. There was no worry. No other woman would ever tempt him again. His mother was right. When the one woman meant for him came along, everyone else faded into dust.

  Rap. Rap. Rap. Someone was at the door.

  Woof. Aaarroohh! Helllooo! Ahhh! Woof, woof, woof.

  Scratch that. Someone and a dog and a bird were at the door.

  Brittney froze and stared at him, eyes wide, for a second before together, they strode to the door.

  Woof, wwwaaroooh. Rap. Rap. Rap.

  “Treat’s here?” Brittney asked.

  “With that cockatoo Grandpa adopted,” Ben grumbled, not amused. “I thought your grandparents were taking care of them.”

  “Do you think Grandpa’s out of the hospital?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Ben said, as he opened the door.

  Crap. Instead of Grandpa, his brother Nash stood there with Brittney’s sister, Lacy. Treat lunged for Ben at the same time the white cockatoo flew into the cabin.

  “What are you two doing here?” Brittney was the first to recover her voice.

  “Looking for you two,” Lacy said in a sharp tone. “Do you know how worried Mom and Dad are?”

  Behind Lacy, Nash narrowed his eyes, taking in the scene. “Did we, like, interrupt your love nest or something?”

  “Actually, you should have called first,” Ben said, nailing his brother with equally narrowed eyes.

  “We did,” Lacy said. “Over and over. We texted, left messages, but neither of you were answering. We couldn’t figure out what happened until Samantha said you two left together.”

  “And after asking Grandpa what that cryptic message meant, about him knowing where you were, we figured you were shacked up here,” Nash continued. “What’s the meaning of not telling any of us Grandpa had not one, but two heart attacks?”

  Brittney seemed to shrink behind Ben as she gestured for them to come in. Nash tried to catch her eye, but she avoided him.

  “Let me brew some coffee,” she said, escaping to the kitchen.

  “Oh, no, you’re not.” Lacy trudged after her. “You have some explaining to do. You know they’re saying you sabotaged Shopahol by opening that security hole? And the actress isn’t going away. She’s naming you personally liable, and if Dave and Jen weren’t so nice, they’d be suing you for breach of contract. Owen’s been trying to find you. Shopahol’s lawyer, that shark Michele Song, is pinning the entire sex toy fiasco on you.”

  “As for you.” Nash collared Ben. “What the hell are you doing holed up with Brittney? Don’t you know she’s hecka vulnerable? You’re fucking up her reputation. You better not be hurting her.”

  “Hurting her? Does she look hurt to you?” Ben shoved Nash away from his face. “You’re the asshole doing the benefit concert and acting as if I’m the villain.”

  “You better not have slept with her.” Nash sneered and growled in a low voice.

  “What’s it to you?” Ben hissed in an equally low voice. The two sisters were shouting at each other in the kitchen. Big Blizzard had perched on top of the Christmas tree and was crowing cockatoo style and flapping his wings while Treat was hunched on the floor, head back and howling to his heart’s content.

  “She’s my friend,” Nash said. Small drops of spittle sprayed from his mouth. “I happen to care about her, and she doesn’t need players like you sweet talking her.”

  “What if she wants me to sweet talk her? What’s it to you?”

  Nash’s nostrils flared. “While you went AWOL, I spoke to your lawyer. She took back the slut-shaming, but she agrees with Brittney’s lawyer that both of your defenses center on staying away from each other. Otherwise, the judge could say you were putting on a show with the intent to arouse and offend.”

  “What part of wardrobe malfunction do you and everyone not understand?” Ben shouted. “Don’t come in here and ruin me and Brittney’s Christmas.”

  “Are you fucking looney? Christmas isn’t for two whole weeks.” Nash’s blue eyes pierced through Ben’s defenses. “You’re using Christmas to get into her panties, aren’t you?”

  “I haven’t touched her, Nash. Remember what Mom said about the one special woman and how you’d know when you meet her? Well, I, unlike you, know to hold back and woo her rather than bed her.”

  “You’re fucking in love with her?” Nash’s voice rose.

  “Shhh ….” Ben shoved his brother to the porch, glancing at the two women who were still going at it. Apparently Lacy wasn’t any happier with the two of them together than Nash was.

  “Oh, I get it. You think Brittney is the ‘One’ for you.” Nash wiggled his fingers, making air quot
es.

  “Yep. That’s about it.” Ben crossed his arms.

  “Unbelievable.” Nash removed his cowboy hat and swiped his hand through his longish hair. “Does she feel the same about you?”

  “I believe she does.”

  “And you two haven’t like …” Nash rubbed his thumb and fingers together.

  “No comment, bro.”

  A devilish grin tipped over Nash’s too smooth face. “Because there’s nothing to comment about.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ben glowered into his brother’s face. “Unlike you, I respect women.”

  “Sure, only when they’re on their knees.” Nash didn’t flinch or back off. “Brittney’s not that type. You use and abuse her, and I’m on you like a ten-ton weight.”

  “What are you? Her brother?”

  “I’m her best friend, and I know her inside and out. Fuck with her, and I’ll take your head off.”

  “She’s not yours to watch over.” Ben clenched his fists, trying to control himself from wiping that smug look off his brother’s pretty-boy face.

  “She’s more mine than yours.” Nash calmly placed his cowboy hat on his head and swaggered off the porch, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops.

  What the hell is that all about?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ~ Brittney ~

  Lacy unloads a torrent of words, and I’m trying to get her to shut up so I can hear what Ben and Nash are saying. Shit. Shit. Triple shit. I hadn’t had time to warn Nash. He could be spilling everything right about now.

  Elvis isn’t helping matters as “Blue Christmas” loops around the record player. To top it off, the bird and dog are competing for the loudest ruckus on a fake Christmas morn contest.

  “What’s really going on?” Lacy gets in my face. “Why are you hiding here? You’re taking it on the chin with the security breach. It’s all over the news that you resigned and ran away. Some say you fled the country because you’re guilty. You could be looking at jail time.”