“I’m afraid to ask what the other two are,” Rebecca teased, leaning against the counter now, sipping the last of her wine. Her lovely head was tilted to the side, golden hair spilling over her breast. Her green eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter and the dress she wore was temptation itself.
Nick cleared his throat. He almost answered her truthfully before forcing himself to remember that regardless of what either of them might insist at this moment, she belonged to his brother.
“Why to wash my car and take my suits to the cleaners,” he told her turning back to the sink, apparently completely serious. “Not to mention I hate cleaning the oven.”
“Now I know why you’re still single,” she laughed, pulling away from the counter and dangling her glass in front of him.
Taking it out of her hand, Nick proceeded to wash it and the rest of the dishes, grumbling something about women never being satisfied.
By the time the kitchen was in order, Rebecca had packed up all her paraphernalia. Despite their easy banter there was a deep sadness in her eyes when she kissed him on the cheek.
“Thanks Nick,” she told him softly.
“My pleasure honey,” he responded, giving her a warm hug.
Nick walked her to her car, made sure she was safely locked in, and told her to give a call when she got home. Then he returned to the apartment. He had a few well-chosen words for his stubborn brother. “You acted like a jerk,” he stated, shoving open the bedroom door and striding into the room. Mason was lying on the bed, hands behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“I know.”
“A jealous, insensitive, jerk.”
“I know.”
“What the hell were you thinking of? I’m your brother for Christ’s sake.”
“I know.”
“The least you could have done was come out and apologize.”
“I know.”
“Is that all you can say?” Nick demanded his hands on his hips, clearly pissed.
Mason sat up and ran his hands through his hair.
“I admit I was wrong, overreacted, but at the time it seemed that there was no other reasonable explanation. I’m in love with her,” he continued, as if that explained everything and getting to his feet he began to pace.
Nick stood stock still, watching the anguish on Mason’s face, torn between sympathy and that good swift kick. He’d been in love once, so much in love that he’d been blinded to deception, but this was not the case here. Rebecca had truly been innocent of any wrong doing.
“Well what are you going to do about it?” Nick asked.
“I don’t know.”
Nick swore softly.
“You’d damn well better find out.”
“Nick, you don’t know what that little hellion has put me through,” Mason ground out. “I can’t begin to figure her out and I don’t have a clue how to handle her.”
“Handle her! Hell man you handle your car, your business, your bank account, you don’t handle your woman. You love her. And you trust her, until she gives you reason not to. And occasionally you give her a damn good spanking to remind her whose woman she is and what acceptable behavior is and what is not.”
Shaking his head in disgust Nick started out of the room but Mason’s hand on his arm stopped him.
“What makes you such an expert,” Mason demanded. “I don’t see a ring on your finger or a passel of little ones calling you daddy?”
“Experience and good sense” Nick replied, answering, yet not answering the question.
“Don’t give me that bull. You don’t know what it’s been like. Rebecca isn’t like other women. Just hearing her voice on the phone makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and it isn’t from desire, it’s plain old-fashioned fear. I never know what she going to do next. She’s a flake, a flirt and absolutely fantastic in bed. I love the way she looks, smells, and sips her coffee. I can’t imagine life without her and life with her is making me crazy. What happened here tonight might be a once in a lifetime experience for most women but with Rebecca this kind of thing is to be expected. If a few days go by without some kind of catastrophe I actually begin to sweat. In the last six weeks she’s forgotten to eat, wrecked her car, broken her foot, overdosed on sleeping pills, beaten me with a broom, and ended up damn close to naked in the same room with another man. No insult intended. Add to that the times she has made love to me until I could hardly move. She doesn’t believe in marriage and apparently birth control is the farthest thing from her mind. I’m telling you that woman is a menace to herself and every red blooded American male and if I can’t convince her it’s me she’s supposed to spend the rest of her life with I’m afraid some other man will realize just how absolutely priceless she is.”
By the time he was finished Mason was out of breath and shaking and Nick was grinning like a fool.
“Wow little brother,” he said putting his arm around Mace’s shoulders and guiding him out to the kitchen. “You’ve got it bad, real bad. Sit right down here and let old Nick make you a cup of his special Irish coffee,” he said eyes twinkling.
“I once knew a girl like Rebecca and I also loved her desperately. I, however, did not have a big brother to guide and advise me and I lost her,” he continued confidently. “That’s not going to happen to you.”
Mason accepted the hot coffee gratefully but could not contain the snort of disbelief.
“Trust me,” Nick grinned, and surprisingly Mason did.
Chapter Nine
Rebecca stretched and rubbed the small of her back. The last few days had been rough getting ready for this dinner, now it was almost over. The Christmas party was in full swing as she helped herself to a cup of black coffee from the big urn. Laughter and music flowed from the dining room into the kitchen but Rebecca wasn’t tempted to join in the festivities. All she wanted to do was get this mess cleaned up and collapse on Maggie’s couch with a glass of wine. She felt small and selfish, wishing the day was over, but the Christmas spirit had somehow escaped her this year. Not being able to find anyone to play Santa had been the last straw and she’d gritted her teeth and rented the last suit to be had anywhere in town, determined not to let her misery intrude on her friend’s celebration.
“Aren’t you going to have anything to eat dear,” Mary Havens asked, coming into the kitchen just as Rebecca started to scrape plates.
“No, I’m really not very hungry Mary,” Rebecca replied forcing a smile.
“You really should come and join the fun. The idea of having forty’s music was perfect. You should see some of those old codgers ‘cutting the rug,” Mary laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day. Mr. Jackson just tried to dip the widow Clark. Ha, they almost landed up in the punch bowl.”
Rebecca couldn’t contain her amusement as Mary hurried back into the other room. She giggled to herself imagining the portly widow held up in Ray Jackson’s spindly arms. Sighing she hurried on with her work. A troop of local Girl Scouts had volunteered to help clean up but as yet they hadn’t arrived. It couldn’t be soon enough as far as she was concerned. With their help and a little luck she would be out of here by seven.
Rebecca pushed the question of just why she was in such a hurry to get to Maggie’s out of her mind. It had absolutely nothing to do with Mason she told herself. Besides at the rate things were going, he’d be gone when she got there and it was just as well. He’d left a dozen messages on her machine, all of which she’d ignored. His deep voice had grown more frustrated by the call and the last one was not the voice of anyone she wanted to see in the near future. A small shudder wracked her body thinking of the threatening tone he’d used when he tried to calmly explain to her machine just how childish he considered her behavior and if he didn’t hear from her in the next twenty four hours she might not have the opportunity to say anything at all. Rebecca took this growled remark to mean that this call would be the last one he’d make and it appeared she was right as there hadn’t been a message since. H
er hands actually shook when she pushed the button of her machine last night, but the only message was from Maggie reminding her to come by as soon as she finished today, and to tell the truth she was looking forward to a little female companionship.
Mason had had her on edge for weeks now and she was just about tired of it. If this was love then she could learn to do without it she told herself. The uncertainty, the sexual frustration, the heartache and worrying were all taking their toll. Mason had sent her flowers and candy, but that only made her madder. Did he think he could buy his way out of this one? Not hardly. She had no intention of tying herself to a man that not only didn’t trust her but was a bossy tyrant besides. About one more “Rebecca” spoken it that intimidating tone of voice and she’d promised herself she’d sock him right in the nose.
The sound of excited chatter pulled her back to the present and she turned to let her helpers in the back door. Seven teen age girls from Troop Thirty-Seven entered, giggling and full of Christmas excitement. Rebecca looked around the cluttered kitchen and the stack of dirty dishes and sagged in relief. Thank goodness the cavalry has arrived she thought smiling.
“If you girls want to hang up your coats in the other room, I’d sure appreciate the help.”
“Sure Miss Moran,” Stacy Jacobs answered. “Sorry we’re a little late getting here. I had to wait for my dad to take my grandparents’ home before I could get the van and gather up the other girls. Has Santa Claus arrived yet,” she asked with a wink, blue eyes twinkling. At seventeen Stacy was the obvious leader of the group. Her sparkling personality and pretty appearance made her a favorite around the small community and she was always ready to lend a hand at the center.
“Not yet,” Rebecca responded with a grin. “But now that you’re all here I’m sure he won’t be long. I’ll just see what’s keeping him.”
Rebecca sauntered off through the dining room, pausing here and there to chat, unobtrusively heading towards the storeroom where her Santa suit was hidden. She’d dressed for the part in knee high black suede boots and a jade green calf length dress that had a cinched waist but a very full skirt, thinking that if she gathered the dress up and stuffed it into her red furry costume pants it would give her added fullness around the middle. Her hair was pulled back in a gold clip that could easily be used to gather it into a mass under her hat.
Rebecca had just put her hand on the doorknob to her hiding place when a boisterous “HO HO HO, MERRY CHRISTMAS,” stopped her cold. Turning in surprise she looked across the room to see a man who looked so much like St. Nick she was almost fooled.
His Santa suit was a perfect fit but hid his identity effectively. Rebecca was so tired at this point, she didn’t much care who the good-hearted soul who’d answered her prayers was. He portrayed Santa much better than she ever could and she smiled and went across the room to greet him.
“Well look who’s here,” she called making sure everyone’s attention was on the big stranger. “How nice of you to stop in Santa.”
“My pleasure. It does my heart good to see so many folks enjoying themselves on Christmas. Too many people are just too plain stubborn to admit to being lonely and spend the holiday alone.”
Rebecca eyes narrowed as she squinted across the small distance separating them. The way the man had pronounced the word stubborn had sounded vaguely familiar but she pushed the thought out of her mind. She noticed now that the man towered over everyone in the room and it appeared his spectacles were slightly tinted hiding his eyes. Shrugging her shoulders Rebecca advanced with a firm step extending her hand. After all, what did it really matter if she knew Santa’s identity or not. The very fact that he’d taken time out of his own holiday to brighten up their day made him special in her book.
“I’m very glad you could come,” she said, but when instead of taking her hand, he bypassed it pulling her up against his side in a firm grip, she gulped. His hold, though not painful, was unbreakable and she began to have second thoughts when she tried to gently disengage herself and couldn’t move an inch.
“Has everyone been good this year?” his voice boomed across the room, taking the attention off Rebecca and back onto him. “Shoot, can’t be anything else at our age,” Ed called back sounding disgruntled and bringing a round of laughter from the crowd.
Santa shook with laughter too, bringing Rebecca even closer if that were possible. Trying to smile, Rebecca refused to struggle with someone twice her size and alarm the seniors. The best thing would be to divert their attention for a moment so she could get free. Perspiration broke out on her forehead as she realized that this man could be anyone dressed up like Santa, even a criminal.
“What have you brought us in your bag Santa,” Rebecca spoke up, trying not to let fear alter her voice.
“If he’s got what I want in that bag, I’ll die a happy man,” Ray Jackson called out, winking at his widow friend and causing her to blush profusely.
“I’m not sure what you’re looking for friend,” Santa responded with a chuckle and a wink, “But at your age you must have learned that when you want something you’re better off to get right to it.”
“Darn straight,” Ray shot back. “Now where’s that mistletoe got to.”
The hoots of laughter and good natured ribbing were enough of a distraction that Rebecca was able to bring her heeled boot down hard on Santa’s instep, freeing her instantly.
“Oh Santa,” she cooed, backing away. “I’m so sorry, let me get you some refreshments while you hand out your packages.” A niggling suspicion had begun to form in her mind. She felt instinctively that she knew this man but her panic at his refusal to release her had baffled her senses. It’ll come to me she thought as she hurried away to refill the punch bowl and add more cookies to the platters.
Watching him circulate the room a little while later, Rebecca still felt a fissure of fear. He talked and joked easily with the group and even danced a waltz with Mary. Santa had handed out corsages to all the ladies and boutonnieres to all the men. Each person also received a gift certificate for dinner at a local restaurant. Well, whoever he was he certainly wasn’t cheap.
Rebecca slipped into the ladies room and unfastened the clip in her hair. Golden curls tumbled free and she massaged her scalp for a moment, trying to relax. After refreshing her make-up she felt she was again ready to face the mysterious Santa. The girls had the cleaning up under control and all that was left to do was washing the punch glasses and clean the tables. A few of the ladies had offered to stay until it was time to lock up and Sara would be here any minute to help with the final cleanup. Maggie, here I come, she told herself, picturing a relaxing evening with her friend.
A dreamy waltz was playing when she left the ladies room. Her eyes automatically searched for the mystery Santa, determined not to put herself in a vulnerable position, but before she knew what was happening he’d grasped her waist from behind, swirling her around and into his arms. The strong arm around her waist definitely let her know she wasn’t going anywhere and his big hand enveloped her own, effectively stopping her from using it to push herself away. Color flooded her cheeks. His hold was inescapable and she was sure she could feel the beating of his heart even through his padding. She tried to bring her hand in to pull down his beard and discover his identity, but he just laughed and swung her in circles to the music until she laid her head on his chest, dizzy.
“Have you ever heard of asking Santa?”
“It occurred to me,” he answered, obviously ignoring the indignation in her voice, “But I decided to follow my own advice to our friend there,” he nodded at Ray and his lady, dancing in a world of their own, “and go after what I want”.
Rebecca swallowed hard. Lord how do I get myself into these situations. His voice was deep and not at all unpleasant and again she was almost certain that she knew this man. An amorous Santa who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Just where was Mason when she needed him. Sighing Rebecca decided to finish the dance with good grace and then escape
for Maggie’s at her first opportunity. Relaxing in his arms she gave herself over to the spell of the music, marveling at how well he danced despite his heavy boots and padded stomach. His soft beard tickled her forehead and when she closed her eyes she felt like she was in the arms of a giant teddy bear. Surprisingly, after she relaxed, the threatening feeling faded away and she actually felt safe and protected. He was strong and led her in the steps as lightly as a feather on the wind. Almost sorry when the dance ended, she shook her head to clear away the strange feelings. It must be the outfit that made her feel like she’d been secure and cared for.
Expecting to be released, Rebecca started to thank him for the dance when to her extreme embarrassment and alarm he swept her up in his arms and sat down in the nearest chair, holding her firmly on his lap. His legs were so long that her feet dangled inches off the floor keeping her helpless, his arm around her waist resting mere inches under her breast. Speechless with fury, Rebecca could only gasp when the deranged Santa calmly whispered in her ear.
“And what do you want for Christmas pretty lady?” Santa asked innocently.
Suddenly the light and the angle of his glasses revealed eyes of stormy blue, sparkling with humor.
“A gun,” she shot back, beginning to really struggle now that she realized the rotten trick Mason had played on her.
“Now, Now,” he told her tightening his hold, sliding one hand under her bottom and kneading firmly.
“Santa could make all your dreams come true.” Mason’s grin was her undoing.
“If my dreams come true, I’ll be in jai1 by tomorrow,” she growled back from between clenched teeth. “NOW LET ME GO.”
“Not a chance. Santa finds his little green elf extremely tempting. Now be a good little girl, we have an audience.”
Rebecca stopped struggling and glanced around the room, finding a very interested group. Their faces clearly bewildered by the strange behavior of both their director and Santa. Torn between reassuring them and getting free of Mason’s hold she froze, plastering a weak smile on her face. Turning her gaze back to Mason’s, she elbowed him sharply in his padded ribs, disappointed he couldn’t feel it.
Changing Her Mind Page 10
