Santa's Naughty Helpers

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Santa's Naughty Helpers Page 3

by Elizabeth Knox


  After I show the plans and Locke agrees to them, we head out of the room just as Ranger meets us at the doors.

  “Missy, can I please speak to you for a moment?” he asks, the need evident in his tone.

  “Why, Ranger, we have nothing to say to each other,” I retort trying to maintain my professional attitude.

  “I am sorry, do you two know each other?” Cara asks.

  We were both in a heated eye lock, my anger for being a fool was rising.

  “Torren, do you know each other?” Cara asks one more time her tone breaking me out of his spell.

  “Yes, we do. Now please, Missy, I just need to talk to you for a moment,” he adamantly demands, his eyes telling me he truly is sorry, but my pride won’t let me care.

  “So, why don’t you tell me what the fuck is happening,” Locke barks, his tone causes me to jump. Cara might say his bark is worse than his bite, if that is true, I want nothing to do with his bark or his bite.

  I look up at Ranger staring at me waiting for my response.

  “I can’t, I’m busy. I have to get back to the office.” I turn on my heels leaving him standing there.

  Chapter Six

  Ranger

  She fucking just walked out, she wouldn’t even give me a chance to fucking talk to her.

  “Torren, come in here,” Cara’s voice has me turning from staring at the hallway where Missy just left me standing.

  I grunt following Cara into the room, all this girly shit is ridiculous.

  “So, Torren, want to tell me how you know Ms. Jones?” she clicks her tongue scolding me like an errant child, “It is never a good thing to mix business with pleasure.” She continues walking around our club table.

  “I met her at the hospital when I went to go see Ramona about doing my Santa shit this year for the kids. She was there, brought gifts so we can hand them out, we had a night together, I asked Ramona to give me her number and I was going to text her. I even spoke to Dom about her but shit got crazy here,” he says kicking the chair leg.

  “I see, so you screwed up, dropped the ball, and now she thinks you were not interested in her just playing her for pussy,” she says because that is exactly how it sounds but she can tell by the look in my eyes that I regret it.

  “Well, just so you know, I do not give a damn what happened, she is building the addition to the compound and if you really want to make it up to her, she will be back in a few weeks so you might want to get started kissing ass. Because Matthew will fucking flip if he hears you acting the way you did today,” she tells me heading out the doors leaving me standing there.

  What the hell happened from the time I came in here until the time we opened the door?

  Try harder, what the hell does that mean, “try harder,” I lean back on the sofa.

  Closing my eyes, I lean my head back taking a pull from my beer. What the hell did Cara mean try harder; how can someone try harder when they don’t know where to start in the first place.

  The idea hits me when I hear her voice, I look up seeing Ramona standing at the bar with Smoke. The only way I can make this right is by getting a little help from a friend, the only problem is I’m sure that right now that friend is actually an enemy.

  “Hey, Ramona, how’s my favorite lady doing?” I ask, hoping she will help a brother out.

  “Don’t favorite lady me, you asshole,” she bites out. Well fuck, maybe not then.

  “Listen Ramona, I need your help.” I lean on the bar giving her my best puppy dog face.

  “I gave you a chance and not only did you sleep with her on the first date, but then you didn’t even bother calling or texting her afterwards. I was the one who talked you up, talking about how nice you are and look what happens, it’s been three weeks you looked like a real jackass and a dick.

  “Ranger, if you really want to apologize to her, figure out some other way, I’m not going to be easy on you and just give you her number again.” She says, as she saunters away from me.

  “Son of a bitch. What the fuck is it with all these damn females walking away from me today!”

  “Maybe it’s the way you talk to them,” Locke says with his legs crossed, propped up in the doorway.

  “As opposed to how you bark orders and talk to them, boss.” I know I will catch shit later for all this but damn I fucked up once can’t I get a little forgiveness. “How would you go about getting ahold of her?” I ask sarcastically.

  “Don’t be a prick, you shithead. I’m just trying to help you out so that the womenfolk around here won’t have your balls nailed to the wall.” Locke goes around the back of the bar grabbing two glasses filling them with amber liquid.

  I walk over catching the glass as he slides it my way.

  “So, tell me then. How would you do it?” I inhale my drink, its scent permeates my senses. “What the hell is this?” I ask. His go to drink has always been whiskey.

  “I thought maybe you could use a shot of bourbon to get your mind in the right place for ass kissing,” he busts out laughing.

  “Stop treating her like you would the sweetbutts you moron, if you want her for an old lady then treat her like one Not like some piece you just want to get your Dick wet with.” He says and honestly it makes a lot of sense.

  “Geez, you got jokes now,” I say sarcastically. “So, what would you do?” I ask, tasting residual oak, cinnamon with a hint of cherry.

  “Easy, I would contact her at her company, sending her flowers, or chocolates, or even show up to her job,” he says as he pours one more drink.

  “Genius move, how will I know where she works?”

  “You really are a moron, aren’t you?” Locke stares at me. “Fuck, at least you are kind of pretty,” he jokes. “She’s our architect for the new addition, you dumb ass.” He shakes his head.

  “Oh shit, you’re right, boss, how can I get ahold of her? Do you have a card? Have any information?” I just scored the jackpot. I knew someone would help me.

  Locke stood there looking at me in amusement.

  “Throw me a bone here, I won’t beg for it, but damn help a brother out.”

  “Fine, you little pussy,” he says turning toward his office. “Her card is in my office along with all of the paperwork with her contact information on it. If anybody asks, you don’t know where you got it from because I sure as hell didn’t give it to you.” He reaches for a folder on his desk.

  Chapter Seven

  Missy

  Between my upset stomach and my pounding head, going into work was hard. A knock comes on my door and I look up to see a short dark-haired kid with glasses, wearing a shirt that says Auntie T’s Roses scrolled across the front.

  “How can I help you?” I ask the kid.

  “Yes, I have a delivery for Missy Jones,” he says, pushing up his glasses with his free hand.

  “I’m Missy Jones,” I say as he hands me a large red vase with a beautiful arrangement of the most beautiful, bright red and white roses with sprigs of baby’s breath weaved throughout.

  “Here you go, ma’am, if you could just sign here.” He hands me a signature pad forcing me to place the beautiful flowers on my desk.

  “These are absolutely gorgeous, thank you so much.”

  “Yes, ma’am, these are our biggest sellers around Christmas time.”

  “I can see why, do you know who sent them?” Not like I don’t already know who sent them. I was just hoping it was from someone else.

  “No, ma’am, I just deliver the flowers, there’s a card in there though. Have a great day,” he walks out.

  I pull the card out, opening it up to see scribbled inside is a note. Nothing romantic, nothing extraordinary just three simple words:

  I am sorry

  Ranger.

  Of course, he would send me flowers, Christmas flowers no less. If he actually got to know me, he would know I wasn’t the biggest fan of Christmas flowers or Christmas at all.

  That’s not true, Missy, you just hate mistletoe and p
oinsettias. I think to myself.

  “Wow, who sent you those?” I hear from my doorway.

  “Who do you think?” I say blandly.

  “Wow, Ranger’s really trying and you’re really trying to play hard to get,” Claire says, leaning against the door clicking her nails together.

  “No, I’m not. I just don’t know if I believe his whole, I lost your phone number theory,” I confess.

  “Well, maybe he did. Ramona said it got really crazy around that time at the club, maybe he did forget it.” I can’t believe she is sticking up for him. Traitor.

  “Sure, and it just so happens that we have sex, he leaves the next day, and the day after that nothing,” I tell her.

  “Listen, Miss, you can’t be that way, he seems like a really nice guy. It’s not like he’s constantly trying to get in your pants, he’s just trying to get to know you now.” She does make a good point though my anger will not let me agree with her.

  “I mean seriously, what else has he done in the past two weeks since you showed up at his club? He has sent you European chocolate, ordered you lunch, and asked you out on countless dates. The man has called your work phone so many times the receptionist knows his voice by now. He has called Ramona’s phone and he’s left voicemails on my phone. I think it’s time for you to give him a chance, see where this goes, it might actually be something,” Claire tells me, handing me a cup of coffee from my coffee bar.

  I placed my head in my hands overwhelmed by life’s events.

  “Are you feeling okay, Miss, you look worn out?” Claire asks with concern in her eyes.

  “No, I have a pounding headache and I’ve been on the verge of throwing up for two days now,” I moan, leaning my forehead on my free arm.

  “That sounds terrible, there is a flu bug going around. Ramona said they’ve seen a lot of it at the hospital,” she consoles me.

  “Listen, I can’t get sick; I have way too much going on right now to get sick,” I argue.

  I don’t think sickness cares about your job. Why don’t you go home, take the rest of the day off and just rest, things are slow today anyways,” Claire offers.

  “Let me just try to tough it out and I’ve got tons of emails to answer.”

  “Okay, just know we can handle one day without you,” she says as she walks away.

  By lunchtime, I’m no better so I call it quits for the day. I climb in bed when I get home and fall asleep.

  The smell of coffee wafts over me causing me to stir. The smell of heaven in a cup is the only thing I need to get my day moving. When I sit up instant bile rises in my throat, I make a mad dash to the bathroom.

  Two rapid taps on the door accompanied by, “Hey are you still sick?” I hear Ramona say from the other side of the bathroom door.

  Before I can voice anything, I place my face back into the toilet confirming her suspicions.

  “Yes,” was all I could get out; I lean against the cold tile of the bathroom floor. Begging for death, the past week I have either been trying not to puke my guts out or sleeping.

  “I think I have the flu,” I say shakily.

  “Let’s get you back into bed. If you are no better tomorrow, go to the doctor,” Ramona instructs helping me back into bed.

  “I may have to. We are bogged down at work; I can’t miss a lot of time,” I say pulling my comforter back up tucking it under my chin.

  Two days later I am fiddling with the paper gown at the doctor’s office still no better. I have to be back at the compound tomorrow with all the new sketches for Cara to approve, calling in sick can’t happen.

  “Good morning, Missy, I am Dr. Levi. How are you doing today?” The tall voluptuous dark-haired doctor asks me.

  “Well, better actually. Today is the first day I haven’t puked my guts out but seeing it’s only eight-thirty there’s still a good chance,” I say sarcastically.

  “Other than the vomiting what other symptoms are you having?” She looks over my chart scrutinizing everything.

  “Just the puking and headaches but those are not every day, just when it has been a rough morning over the toilet,” I explain

  “Okay, well, we are going to fix you up. I just want to do some tests to rule out other infections. Is there any chance you could be pregnant?” She looks up at me, her gray eyes scanning my body almost as if she had X-ray vision.

  “Ummm, nope. It’s been about a month and I’ve had a period since then.” Thank the lord I think to myself, that is all we need to do is add a freaking baby into this mess.

  “Not a problem, like I said I am going to run some tests, and we will get you all fixed up.” She snaps the chart closed and walks toward the door.

  “Thanks, Doc, I have a big meeting tomorrow and I have to be there.” I run my hands down my paper gown wiping the sweat off them.

  “You already gave your urine specimen to our nurse correct?” she asks turning back toward me.

  “Yes, that was the first thing they requested, since I didn’t have any other “flu” like symptoms she said.”

  “Perfect,” she replies in her squeaky voice, shutting the door behind her.

  Chapter Eight

  Ranger

  I look down at my phone, it’s ping alerting me to an unread text message.

  Missy: Thank you for the flowers, they are beautiful.

  Simple, yes, but that means I am wearing her down. I call her office and her receptionist informs me Missy is out sick with the flu. Inspiration strikes me, my next trick in being sweet is showing up to her place with meds and feel good shit.

  I hop on my bike, as she purrs to life, I imagine what it would feel like having Missy straddling the back, pressed up against me. Her arms wrapped around my waist, her body flush against mine, shit now my jeans are tight and no relief in sight.

  An hour later, I knock on her door armed with meds and soup, after the second knock the door opens, a flushed faced Missy opens the door. I can tell by her expression she is shocked to see me standing there.

  “Hey, how are you feeling?” I ask, brushing past her.

  “How did you know I was sick?” she inquires still standing at her door.

  “I called your office and they informed me that you have been sick the past few days, so I thought I could bring you some meds and soup.” I start unloading groceries.

  “You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” she says, yawning.

  “Why don’t you go rest. I will take care of this and bring you some soup,” I tell her, she looks exhausted and also looks like she might have been crying.

  “No, really it’s okay, You don’t have to do this,” she argues again. “I can’t take those anyway,” she said, pointing at the cold and flu medicine I set on the counter.

  “Shit, are you allergic? I am sorry I didn’t know,” I tell her apologetically.

  “That’s just it, we don’t know each other, of course you wouldn’t know if I was allergic to any thing, because we met and fucked all in one day,” she is rambling now.

  “Missy, it’s okay. What is wrong, why are you freaking out?” I ask now completely lost on what the fuck is going on.

  “I’m pregnant,” she rushes out, staring at me.

  The world is a blur around me, there is no way that could have happened. This is a dream, a nightmare, and I’m about to wake up from it.

  “I’m sorry, what the hell did you just say?” I ask incredulously.

  “I said I’m pregnant; don’t worry you don’t need to be a part of it. I can do this by myself.” She stands resolved.

  I stand there staring blankly at her, what the hell do I say, what do I do. I have no idea how to be a parent and she sounds like she wants nothing to do with me.

  “I gotta go,” rushed out of my mouth. “I will call you,” I say rushing past her. I know I should stay and work things out but right now I just need to clear my head.

  I drive, I don’t know for how long, but it’s dark before I get back to the compound. I walk past my b
rothers standing around and head straight for the bar. Pulling out the Glenlivet from under the bar I walk back toward the yard. Right now, I just need to think, or in this case not think, I want to get plastered.

  “Can I sit?” I look up to see Locke standing before me.

  “Sure thing, boss,” I say taking another pull from the bottle, its warmth filling my body.

  “So, what happened?” he asked, taking the bottle from me, putting it up to his lips, and taking a drink.

  “She’s pregnant,” was all I said. I mean what more did I need to say, that shit was enough.

  “Fuck me,” he says, taking another pull from the bottle.

  “Fuck no, that’s how I got in this mess,” I groan throwing my head back.

  “What did you say?” Locke asks.

  “I said I gotta go and I left,” regret fills my voice.

  “So, she told you she was pregnant, and you just left,” he reiterates.

  “Pretty much. I left her standing there, like the asshole I am. Fuck, how am I going to fix this?” I ask.

  “Well, first you are going to find your balls; I mean you must have left them somewhere,” he says searching around the yard like he is looking for something.

  “Then you are going to man up and go talk to her and if she doesn’t want to talk to you then you will continue to try until she does. That is your kid she is carrying, and you need to stand up like a man and do something about it,” he says, taking the bottle out of my hands.

  “You’re right, it’s time I stepped up and tell her what I want,” I say. “How I plan on doing that I have no fucking clue.”

  “Start by saying you’re a sorry fuck and didn’t mean to run off like a crying little girl,” Locke says standing, before heading inside. “I don’t get it; you were an Army Ranger for fuck’s sake and yet you are a puddle of warm piss with this woman,” he scolds me.

  “I know, she just throws me off with how I feel about her,” I say honestly.

 

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