Have Yourself a Naughty Little Santa

by Karin Tabke

  Ezzy smiled and opened a door that led to the more than ample bathroom. An oversized claw-foot tub dominated the black granite bathroom fitted with rustic brass. Thick, fluffy green-and-ivory-colored towels were neatly folded and amply stacked on a brass rack. On the counter a treasure trove of shampoos, soaps, and lotions were hers for the taking.

  “There’s an afternoon tea, coffee, juices, and soft drinks in the parlor. Continental breakfast is brought to your room every morning, but if you prefer something heartier, I cook a big spread each morning. Just let me know if you’ll be down for it. Lunches are light, but at five-thirty we sit down to a country-style supper. We have Wi-Fi, and if your cell doesn’t get service, we have free long distance on each of the phones in the house. Feel free to use it. It’s unlimited.”

  Kim sat on the edge of the bed, sank into the downy comforter, then flopped back on it. She was enveloped by thick, soft down. “Oh, my God, Ezzy, this is heaven.”

  The innkeeper laughed. “I’m glad you like it. I try. There’s a cottage in the back if you need me during off hours, or Ricco is usually around, so don’t hesitate to holler.”

  As Esmeralda left her to her solitude, Kim sat up. An emotion she wasn’t sure she was experiencing gnawed at her. She had been shocked to discover Ricco had a twelve-year-old son. It felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. She didn’t know why. It pissed her off that he and Elle were so nonchalant about it, and that he’d then come down here to be with his other woman! And pregnant to boot. What kind of woman tolerated that? And what kind of man was he? The audacity! And more than that, she experienced a keen sense of jealousy and, last but not least, loss. She still wanted the prick! But not now. No way, no how. He was off limits. And to that end, she felt sad, and gypped. She’d never have another one of those earth-shattering orgasms. Ever. Again. Because no matter how hard she wished or how hard he tried, she knew Nick would not measure up in the bedroom like Ricco had.

  She pulled off her boots and set them neatly on the floor. No, Nick would be slow and methodical in bed, just as he was in business. He’d be thorough, he’d be neat, and he’d be clean. No hot and sweaty, down and dirty, twisting-up-the-sheets sex for Nick and Kimberly. He wouldn’t perspire, and neither would she. Hell, she might not even muss her hair.

  Kim inhaled deeply and caught the warm scent of gingersnaps. A big glass of milk and a cookie or two might help her get to sleep. And she needed a nap. With warm cookies on the brain, Kim followed her nose in her stocking feet.

  As she came to a bend of the wide stairway, she heard voices from the back of the house, which she assumed was the kitchen. She walked in that direction but abruptly stopped. “Oh, Ricco, I don’t know how much longer I can do this alone. It’s too much.”

  “Shuuuuush, where’s my strong girl? The one who knew the score when she agreed to this gig?”

  Ezzy sniffled. “I thought it would be different. I can’t raise two children alone.”

  “You don’t have to. The family is here.”

  “Ricco, come home. Stay here. Don’t go back. Everything is changing. We need you.”

  “You know I can’t stay. I have responsibilities.”

  “Your family is your responsibility!”

  “Ez, don’t do this to me. Not now.”

  Kim heard her choke back her tears, then Esmeralda said, “You’re just like he is, Ricco. You can’t make a commitment to anyone!”

  Kim stiffened, and when Ricco spoke, her body chilled. “Do not ever compare me to him.” His voice was low, menacing even, but she heard every word crystal clear. The house rattled when he slammed the door closed behind him. She heard him roar out of the driveway, then she heard Esmeralda’s quiet sobs. Kim stood frozen, unsure of what she should do. Comfort the woman? The thought of that terrified Kim. She hadn’t a clue how to go about it and, quite frankly, touching a pregnant woman gave her the willies, even one as sweet as Esmeralda.

  As Ezzy’s sobs began to climb in volume, Kim backed away, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. Anger at Ricco mounted. What a piece of crap! His woman, the mother of one of his children, and about to give birth to a second one, was begging him to stay, and he couldn’t be bothered.

  Kim hurried up the stairs, and as she topped them, the hallway shifted. She grabbed the rail and steadied herself. She slowly made her way back to her room and dug the samples Elle had given her out of her pocket. She popped one in her mouth and grabbed one of the bottles of water from the ice bucket on a stand in the corner of the room. She took a long swig and stripped down to her bra and panties, folding her clothes neatly and setting them on the nightstand. Then she slid between the decadent sheets and sighed.

  Heavy lidded, she started to doze off when she remembered she hadn’t called Nick. She rolled over, not wanting to get out of the bed to dig for her cell phone, which was in her bag on the floor across the room. Instead she picked up the phone on the nightstand and dialed his number.

  “Gold.”

  “Hi, Nick, it’s—”

  “It’s about damn time!”

  She blanched at his outburst. Had she not felt so mellow under the influence of Elle’s pills, she would have told him to shove his attitude up his ass. Instead she said, “You’re such a horse’s ass. I’m here, barely. My preliminary report is this place is ripe for a buyout. They probably just need a nudge. I’ll call you tomorrow with more details.” She hung up despite his questioning voice.

  The drugs were already taking effect; she reached to the side of the bed to put the phone back into its cradle but missed. It thunked to the floor. She didn’t care. She felt warm and woozy and very safe. Her last conscious thoughts were of Ricco bent over her, his slick, taut body sliding effortlessly into hers as she arched up to meet him, then the crying of a baby and the soulful eyes of Elle looming above them.

  Six

  HE WAS STILL ANGRY HOURS LATER AS HE DROVE THE BIG Mack snowplow back to town. How dare Esmeralda compare him to their father? How dare she even imply it? He was nothing like Enrique Lucien Maza. Ricco came home nearly every year and spent his vacation with his family if his work allowed it. Enrique had not made it home for Christmas in over ten years. Sometimes Ricco came up for a long weekend. Enrique came up when he needed booze money or a guilt fix. And damn if his mother didn’t give it to him every time. For fifteen years, Ricco had not seen or spoken with the man he only considered a sperm donor. Ricco would never forgive him for leaving them destitute in East Oakland all those years ago. After his mother had been mugged, raped, and left for dead, they’d finally left Oakland for good. Evergreen had taken them in and given them what they had never had as a family—a safe place to live, food, work, and no questions asked. Evergreen had been a safe place, where Leticia had been able to work and raise her children. With a grant the town paid for her to return to school. She’d repaid the town by keeping the finances balanced to the penny.

  Was it his fault Ezzy’s husband, Ray, was back in Iraq? Was it his fault that prick Elle had married had bailed on her and Antonio ten years ago? Next, Jasmine would be blaming him for Don’s time away with his new start-up company. Ricco worked hard at his job. He couldn’t help the fact that undercover work demanded so much from him. They should understand, especially when he took dirtbag criminals off the streets. After the last conversation with his mother, he’d gone back to regular police work at Montrose. It gave him more time here with the family. Now he was supposed to give that job up too?

  Ricco tried to wash away his anger and resentment. He wasn’t angry with his sister. He was angry with their father. He was angry he couldn’t be everything to everyone in his family. Hell, he could barely be what he needed to be for himself. A lot seemed to be eating at him at that moment, and he didn’t like it. He wanted things to be smooth and carefree like they normally were. He didn’t like turmoil in his personal life. His job was turmoil enough. He came to Evergreen for peace and tranquility, not family discord. With that, Ricco pushed all unpleasant thoughts from his
head and took a big, deep breath to focus on the town.

  He was satisfied with the progress they’d made today. By nightfall, 82—the main road into and out of Evergreen off Interstate 80, and the major artery that ran between Reno and Sacramento—was open for business. And no sooner had the Closed Road signs been removed than a steady stream of traffic had begun to head toward his hometown. He was glad, and he was tired. He’d been up since the crack of dawn on virtually no sleep. He grinned as he pulled the big Mack into the city yard, where there was a small area for service vehicles.

  He had no complaints about how he spent the evening, and despite Kim’s sudden coolness toward him, he had a hankering to get her alone again. He turned the behemoth off and sat for a long minute in the cab, contemplating what exactly it was about Kimberly Michaels that had his dick getting hard at just the thought of her.

  She wasn’t the beauty queen type. She was, he decided, handsome. But sexy in a classic type of way. Those big baby blues of hers reminded him of a child in their naked innocence. Yet he knew there was nothing innocent about the woman. She was sharp, and well bred. He could see it in the way she dressed, smell it in her expensive perfume, and hear it in her cultured voice.

  His taste usually ran to tall, voluptuous, extroverted, exotic women, not quiet, petite blondes. Ricco slid the keys in the visor and jumped out of the snowplow. Since he was the last one in, he walked to his truck and slowly drove back to Ezzy’s, dreading another outburst from her. He should stop at his mom’s before he headed over for dinner, but he wanted to clean up before he saw her. He knew there would be a huge meal and lots of talk and laughter. He smiled. Despite the recent pressure, he loved coming home, and he loved that his family always welcomed him with open arms as if he’d just come home from work at the end of the day, instead of seeing them sometimes only once a year at Christmastime.

  He pulled down the side driveway of the B&B and parked to the side of Ezzy’s evergreen-colored minivan. His heart went out to her. Ray was in Iraq, on his third tour, and she was stressed. She hadn’t heard from him in a month; that told them he was on some type of covert op. Ricco understood her fear. Two of Ray’s unit had come home in body bags.

  He saw her light on but decided not to bother her. He’d see her at dinner. Ricco hurried up the back stairway to the second floor and the room he used when he came home. He glanced across the hall to the Vixen suite. Kim’s room. He grinned and decided that was a perfect name for her.

  Ricco pressed his ear to the Vixen suite door and listened. Silence. If she’d taken what Elle had prescribed, she’d probably sleep through the night. It would do her good. He moved across the hall to his own room—the Dasher suite. Ezzy had a wry sense of humor. Closing the heavy door behind him, he shucked his clothes and boots and jumped into a hot, steamy shower. When he emerged fifteen minutes later, shrill, bloodcurdling screams assailed his ears. He flung his towel around his hips and rushed from his room to the hallway. Kim! He shoved open the door, expecting to find her at the hands of some attacker. Instead she was sitting up in the middle of the bed, her eyes wild, her hair flying, screaming at the top of her lungs, with nary another person or animal around.

  A nightmare? “Kim!” he called and moved to the edge of the bed. She continued to scream. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Kim! You’re dreaming! Wake up!”

  Wild-eyed, she stopped and stared at him. “You’re okay,” he softly said. Her big eyes searched his face for recognition. “It’s me, Ricco.”

  She trembled in his arms. He watched her eyes fill with tears. At that moment, he saw her as a scared little girl with no one to turn to. His heart warmed and he drew her into his embrace. Kim’s sobs wracked through her body, and she clung desperately to him as if she would drown if she let go. He held her, soothing her with a slow, rocking motion, as he had soothed his nieces and nephews as babies.

  • • •

  THE BOGYMAN FROM KIM’S CHILDHOOD HAD COLLIDED head-on with the narcotics she had taken. A wild and terrifying montage of shapes, sounds, and long-suppressed fears had erupted. She’d cried out for Gran, only to realize she hadn’t been there. Her screams had been the screams of a wounded animal, betrayed and abandoned, left to the wolves of the world.

  The strong arms holding her were those of a man who had children from two different women with whom he was obviously still involved. And she didn’t care. Not at that moment.

  Keeping her eyes closed, Kim inhaled the spicy man scent of him. His skin was smooth, his muscles hard. She could feel the steady thud of his heart against her right hand. She pulled her head back only enough to look up into his face. His dark brown, green-tinged eyes showed only concern. Her eyes traced down to his straight aquiline nose, then to his lips. They were full and, she knew from memory, soft but firm, and they did things to her that made her warm and wet and hungry. A spark flared between her thighs, and she licked her lips. Ricco bent his nose toward her cheek, and she could feel him inhale her scent. She rubbed her cheek against his nose. Her breasts filled and her nipples tingled. When Ricco’s lips brushed against her ear and his arms tightened around her waist, the limited space between them ignited.

  Her nightmares were but a distant ugly memory. She was safe in the arms of a man who could take her to the moon, then to the stars. Her muscles relaxed to liquid. He moved her gently back into the mound of pillows. Kim sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, and it occurred to her at that moment that he was naked.

  And what about those kids of his and his women! She stiffened. She felt him smile against her cheek. “I’m not going to ravish you, Cinderella.”

  “I wouldn’t let you.”

  “You were screaming. I thought you were being attacked.”

  “Bad dream.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Kim moved away from him, shaking her head. “No.” She pointed to his bare chest and the damp towel riding low around his waist. The definition beneath was not lost on her. She pointed to him and couldn’t resist saying, “Riccito?”

  Ricco chuckled and moved toward her. “We both know there is nothing little about Ricky.”

  Kim wanted to play, to tease, to feel his arms around her again. Realizing that, she realized just how much her life lacked physical human contact. And not just bedroom contact, but simple human contact, like the brush of fingertips against her cheek, or arms wrapped firmly around her, gently rocking her. As all of those thoughts passed through her head, Kim remembered the pregnant woman downstairs and the crying baby. She pulled the comforter tighter around her, suddenly feeling weak and very foolish. She’d almost gone down that road again.

  “Please leave my room.”

  Ricco moved away and tightened the towel around his waist. “I’m right across the hall if you need anything.”

  As he exited the room, she couldn’t help but watch the way his muscular behind moved under the damp terry cloth. When the door closed behind him, Kim sank back into the pillows and exhaled. What the hell was wrong with her? Wanting comfort from a tomcat? Having nightmares about being abandoned? She hadn’t had one of those dreams since college. She grabbed the small packet of drugs Elle had given her and read the label. Oxycodone? Jesus. No wonder she was having nightmares. She’d taken this stuff once before, when she’d had a pinched nerve in her neck and had been in so much pain she’d just wanted to cry. Even then she’d only taken half a pill at a time. But, she smiled, it sure helped with the pain. She reached up, touched her forehead, and winced. Okay, so it still hurt, but not like it would have. Carefully Kim made her way from the bed to the bathroom, where she started the tub. A nice hot soak would feel good.

  As she luxuriated in the thick silky bubbles, there was a knock on the door. “Miss Michaels?” Ezzy’s voice called.

  “Come in,” Kim called back.

  Ezzy stepped into the room and said, “Since you’re my only guest tonight, I wanted to ask if you’d like to join me and my family for dinner at my mother’s hou
se just two doors down.”

  Kim sat still in the hot, soapy water. A hard rush of emotion smacked her in the chest followed by a sudden well of tears. No one had ever asked her to have dinner with their family. Not even her two ex-husbands. She wanted to scream. What was wrong with her that she was a sudden puddle of mush?

  Hormones. It had to be. “I appreciate the offer, but if it’s okay, I think I’ll just stay in my room tonight,” she replied.

  “Are you sure? It’s really no problem. We always have a full table and plenty of food.”

  “I’m sure, but thank you.”

  “I’ll leave a tray for you in the kitchen. If you need anything, I’ll be two doors down at eight seventy-three.”

  “Thank you.”

  When she heard the door close behind Ezzy, Kim sank farther into the soapy water. She almost called out that she’d changed her mind, but she didn’t. She wasn’t a people person. She got along better with spreadsheets. Nick was so right when he said they were bookends. She rinsed off, then wrapped herself in a thick, velvety towel to consider her options. She could go downstairs and have dinner alone. Nothing new or exciting there. She ate alone most nights and liked the solitude. But she could bundle up and take a walk around the small town. The meds were wearing off, the dosage having been minimal, thank God.

  She dressed in a fresh pair of jeans, a thick fleece sweater, and a different pair of Uggs. These were flat and black suede, with gray suede crisscross ties and white fleece lining. The house was quiet, but her brain coming out of the drug fog was on high alert. She thought of Ricco. She couldn’t help it. He bothered her on several levels, not one of them good for business. And the business at hand was to ferret out the town’s problems, exploit them, then capitalize on them. She moved to the big picture window in her room overlooking Evergreen Promenade—the main street that ran through town.