Have Yourself a Naughty Little Santa

by Karin Tabke

  She shook her head and stepped down the few steps to the driveway to walk toward the center of town.

  As she made her way, she allowed the cool, crisp mountain air to sink deep into her lungs. And while she wasn’t quite used to the altitude, she had no complaints. The sun shone, the air was clear, and the snow glittered brilliantly beneath it. The town lay before her, a jewel in a white, puffy wonderland. She hugged herself and debated whether she should grab her jacket, but she decided against it. Her bulky mohair-and-fox trimmed sweater was enough. Besides, she’d warm up walking around.

  As it seemed to be the custom of this crazy town, every person on the street smiled and said hello. To perfect strangers. After the first half dozen smiles and chipper greetings, Kim decided she’d better get with the program. This place probably had a law against those who frowned. So, when in a dorky Christmas town with Stepford people and themed shops, do as they do. Smile and act like you gave two shits about the person next to you.

  She had to admit that the shops were quaint in a weird little way, and the names unique. Away in the Manger was a cute little boutique stuffed with baby and children’s clothes. Next door was Jingle Bells. Kim was impressed—not easy, with her high-end taste. Not only were there imported brass, glass, and bronzed bells from all over the world but there was also inlaid crystal, porcelain, and fine bone china. Five Golden Rings, the jewelry shop next door, had stuff that would give Harry Winston and Cartier carat envy. She couldn’t help stopping at Mistletoe Florals. She loved flowers; they were the one thing requiring care that she indulged in. And it wasn’t like when she forgot to water the flowers they felt any pain—she just tossed the pot or dumped the vase and bought fresh.

  She smiled and bent to inhale a fresh spray of evergreen and hothouse gardenias. Bright baskets of poinsettias and Christmas cactus adorned the benches out front. Bows of holly, evergreen, and pine festooned with big red velvet bows and bright shining Christmas ornaments hung from brass straps out front.

  Kim popped into Figgy Pudding, the local tea shop, and smiled. The subtle aromas of baked savories swirled around her nose, beckoning her deeper inside. Hunger gnawed at her belly. She was immediately greeted by a little old lady who looked like Mrs. Claus and had the costume down pat, even to her black leather lace-up granny boots. “Good morning,” Mrs. Claus chirped. “I’m Madison Studebaker. Everyone calls me Maddy.”

  Kim couldn’t help return a smile. “I’m Kim. And it is a beautiful morning, Maddy.”

  “It’s always a beautiful morning in Evergreen. Would you care for a spot of tea?”

  “Yes, yes, I would. English breakfast, please, and a blueberry scone?”

  The shopkeeper smiled, bobbed her head, and got to it. While Maddy bustled behind the half partition, brewing the tea, Kim asked, “How has business been?”

  Maddy looked up from her chore and smiled a big toothy grin. The fine lines around her cheery brown eyes crinkled. She pushed back the red-and-white fabric cap on her head. “It could be better. But the Lord always provides. This season looks like a bumper crop.”

  “Even with the blizzard?”

  “Those boys worked twenty-four-seven until the roads were cleared. The forecast is showing a few inches here and there. We laugh at a few inches.”

  Kim bit her bottom lip. She’d laughed at a few inches in her time as well.

  A few minutes later Maddy emerged with a teapot wrapped in—you guessed it—a Christmas-themed cozy. She set it down in front of Kim, who had sat down at a small table covered with a holly-green-and-gold brocade tablecloth. The bell on the front door tinkled, and several ladies strolled in. Kim could tell by the way they were dressed and the way they looked around they were not native to the town. Maddy bustled over and introduced herself. As she was seating the group, another flock of ladies strolled in.

  “Bella,” Maddy called to the back of the shop. Another elderly gal—Maddy’s twin—scurried out. The old lady smiled. “She’s older than me by one minute,” Maddy told Kim, and Kim smiled back. It occurred to her that the ache in her cheeks was from all that smiling. She rubbed them with her fingertips.

  As she enjoyed her tea and blueberry scone smeared in lemon curd and clotted cream, Kim watched and listened. A half hour later, when she was ready to go, Kim opened her wallet and realized she had no cash. She’d parted with all four hundred dollars when she’d bribed the rental car guy. Kim shrugged. Plastic worked.

  “Machine’s on the fritz, cash only today,” Maddy told Kim at the register.

  Kim’s cheeks warmed. How embarrassing—she couldn’t spring for tea and a scone! “I seem to be out of cash at the moment. Where is the nearest ATM machine?”

  Maddy patted her hand and said, “Just come on back before you leave town and pay me.”

  Bewildered, Kim nodded, thanked the sisters, and left the bustling shop. As she stepped back onto the wooden boardwalk, Kim stopped. Stunned, she could not believe her eyes. People crowded the promenade and the streets. Merchants and shopkeepers were out and about, hawking their wears. Santa’s elves worked at several workbenches along the way, sawing, nailing, and painting children’s toys. The sounds of jingle bells and Christmas carols and the aroma of pine and roasted nuts filtered through the air. People smiled, laughed, and bustled along, happy and carefree.

  Amazing. Kim stood speechless for a long moment and wondered how the hell Land’s Edge could stop Christmas. In a freaking Christmas-themed town. Because this town was fair to bursting with tourists, and the merchants’ cash registers were cha-chinging loud and proud. Kim walked down the street toward the pavilion. A long line of children and adults hovered around. She moved closer. She could see reindeer, eight of them decked out in bright, polished-brass, jingle-bell harnesses attached to a sturdy gold-and-red wooden sleigh. In it, a very tall Santa laughed and ho-hoed while telling a Christmas story to a group of enthralled children. Wide-eyed, their necks craned back, they hung on his every word.

  Kim moved closer, drawn to the spellbound group. When Santa looked up, she stopped in her tracks. His dark eyes creased under his red velvet and white fur cap. He ho-hoed and turned his attention back to the children, whose eyes never left his face. Kim noticed several women who stood close to him and who looked like they were about to melt. Kim moved closer, intrigued by this Santa the women had flocked to like the children. As she approached, his deep voice became clearer, and she recognized it immediately.

  Ricco. Playing Santa. Her skin warmed and she had a vision of her sitting on his lap telling him all of the naughty things she wanted to do to him for Christmas. Silently Kim watched, mesmerized by his deep voice, the ease with which he told the story, and the confidence he had handling the children. They, like their mommies, who swarmed like bees around a flower, hung on his every word. Kim quietly lusted. Fantasies of him coming down her chimney and filling her stocking as she slid that suit off of him, baring that hard, sleek body of his, had her squirming where she stood. She really needed to go buy some condoms.

  As Ricco finished his story, the mommies pressed upon him. He raised his head and caught her stare. He grinned and stood. Damn, he was big.

  Santa’s helpers, a teenaged boy and girl in elf costumes, maneuvered the mommies and their kids for pictures. Kim continued to watch in quiet amazement.

  How did those women know it was Ricco? Dumb question. She’d known at twenty yards. How could she not have? His sex appeal oozed over the area like some pheromone-infused gas. At that moment Kim was grateful that she was marrying a man who did not attract women like honey attracted bees. She had a jealous streak that ran a mile wide. It was ugly and it drove her nuts. It hurt to always be wondering who your hot guy was with. And while women were attracted to his power, they didn’t puddle around him. Nope. Nick was a good, solid choice. Until then, though? She smiled and caught Ricco’s grin. He would do very nicely.

  As she turned, a man in a dark hoodie rushed right at her. When their eyes met, he slowed to a hurried walk. Her gaze d
ropped to the large Louis Vuitton satchel in his hand. She had the same bag. Instinctively, she pulled her own bag closer to her side. Her eyes lifted back to his. His narrowed. Was that hostility in those dark eyes? For a moment she felt right at home. Then he slammed into her on purpose and tried to yank her purse from her. She had two hands on it, though, and yanked it back. He took off running. Kim hit the ground with a whoosh, landing flat on her back. The earth was hard, damp, and cold. Furious, she hurried to stand, when a red-and-white blur raced past her. Holy shit! Santa was after the purse snatcher! She watched Ricco charge after the guy, catch up, then tackle him. It was over in a blink. Kim, along with everyone else, ran after them. By the time she got there, Ricco had the guy in a choke hold and subdued.

  What the heck? Should she call the cops? Did they have cops in this freak town?

  “Step aside, folks, step aside,” a deep voice commanded. Kim turned to see what she thought was, thank God, the local cop. She was surprised he wasn’t sporting a Santa cap and bearing gifts. Instead, the man, about her age, wore a white Stetson (of course), an officious forest-green-colored shirt with the town’s seal stitched on the right breast, jeans with a big ’ol silver belt buckle, and black leather cowboy boots. Over his shirt he wore a heavy chamois-colored leather-and-fleece jacket that did a pretty good job concealing the gun in his shoulder holster. Yay! A cop with a gun! She felt right at home now.

  Ricco yanked the assailant up by his throat and hauled him around, then effortlessly maneuvered him back to the ground, planting his knee in the bad guy’s back. The cowboy tossed Ricco a set of handcuffs. Before she realized what he was doing, Ricco had the guy cuffed.

  He hauled the subdued bad guy up by the handcuffs, forced him to turn around, and shoved him toward the cop. “He’s all yours, Jimmy.”

  Jimmy grabbed the guy—a kid really, maybe twenty or so years old. But not a very nice-looking one. There was nothing innocent about his dark, beady eyes or his pockmarked face. He was shaved and had what looked to be some type of tattoo wrapped around his neck. It was hard to tell under his dark, baggy clothes. “Now, why did you have to go assault that nice lady and take her purse?” the cowboy cop asked. Did he really expect an answer? The guy was no doubt an addict. “We don’t do that here in Evergreen. We haven’t had a problem in five years.”

  Well, duh, Kim thought. That’s why he’s here. This place would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Gangstah paradise. Sleeping with your doors unlocked? Indeed! She had triple dead bolts, surveillance cameras, and an internal, as well as external, alarm system. Nobody was getting into her place unless she wanted them there.

  The punk yanked away from Jimmy but Ricco stepped up, grabbed him by the shoulder, and whirled him around. He pulled his beard down and got real close. “Mess with Chief Connor, Puke, and you mess with me.” Ricco yanked him hard against his chest. “And while he likes to play PC, I don’t.”

  Kim watched Ricco morph from naughty Santa to badass Santa, and she wasn’t sure which turned her on more. She shook herself. Literally. What the hell was wrong with her? It occurred to her at that moment that at thirty-eight she was peaking sexually. It probably had something to do with her ovulating as well. Thank God they’d been safe last night. And that reminded her. Condoms. Must buy condoms. A girl could never be too careful.

  She shook her head again to clear the cobwebs and watched Ricco shove the criminal back toward Chief Connor. “Do you need any help with him?” Ricco asked.

  Jim smiled and shook his head. With a firm hand on the bad guy’s handcuffs, he tipped his hat with his right hand to the gathered throng. “Just a minor scuffle, folks, go on back to your fun.” He pushed the thug ahead of him and disappeared into the mass of people.

  No sooner had the crowd let out a collective sigh of relief than another commotion drew their attention. A blacked-out black Suburban drove screeching at break-neck speed down the promenade, running up onto the overflowing sidewalks. Terrorized, pedestrians jumped out of the way; many fell to the ground, their packages flying into the snow. Ricco growled and took off after the vehicle as it sped out of town. As the SUV disappeared, he slowed to a jog, then stopped altogether. She watched him pull his cell phone from his pocket and dial.

  Kim rushed to the elderly couple closest to her as they floundered in the snow. “My God, are you all right?” she asked, bending down to a sweet-looking blue-haired lady who must not have weighed more than one hundred pounds dripping wet. “Mar, are you all right?” the wiry older gentleman next to her asked. Before he could turn over and see that she was not hurt, his hand flailed as he tried to locate her. Kim helped him stand, then they both helped his wife up.

  The little old lady’s face was pursed and pinched. Her dark blue eyes flashed in fury. She looked like hell on wheels. “Larry, if I were twenty years younger I’d go after the little bastards myself.” She flashed Kim a smile. Impulsively Kim flashed one back and wondered what the hell was going on in Christmastown.

  “They were bastards. Driving like that. They could have killed someone,” Larry grumbled, brushing snow off his wife, then himself.

  “Everyone okay?” Ricco’s deep voice asked from behind her. All three of them turned to face him. He was breathing heavily, perspiration flushed his face, and his Santa coat was open, revealing damp muscles under his white wife beater. He touched his hand to Kim’s shoulder. “You okay?” His dark eyes swept her from head to toe, and she assured him she was fine.

  “I got a partial on that sonofabitch,” Larry said.

  Ricco grinned. “Somehow, Larry, I knew you would.”

  “Larry still thinks he’s walking a beat,” Mar offered to Kim.

  “A beat?”

  “He was a cop in Oakland for forty years. Can’t seem to get it out of his system.”

  “What was it?” Ricco asked.

  “California plate, One, Ida, Sam,” Larry said.

  Ricco repeated it. “I’ll run it down. I’m sure there aren’t too many black Suburbans with that beginning sequence. We’ll find out who owns it.”

  “Twenty bucks says it comes back stolen,” Larry said.

  Ricco nodded. “I wouldn’t bet against you on this one, Larry.” He touched Mar on the shoulder and asked again, “Are you sure you’re all right, Mrs. Zubreck?”

  “I’m fine. It’ll take more than a couple of asshole joyriders to mess up my day.”

  Kim grinned, and so did Ricco. She liked the old lady’s spunk.

  The sound of “Jingle Bells” jerked Kim out of her conversation. It was her cell phone. She hurried to dig it out of her purse and glanced at the LED. Nick. She smiled at the couple and at Ricco. “I have to take this call. Excuse me,” she said politely, then moved out of hearing distance and answered. “Hello.”

  “Good morning, Kimberly,” Nick said. He sounded fat and sated. He and Gina had probably had a private party.

  “Hello, Nick,” she answered coolly.

  “Is the weather as cold up there as your greeting?”

  “Oh, sorry about that, but this little town seems to be in the midst of a crime wave at the moment.”

  “Crime wave? I thought they didn’t have any crime.”

  Kim let out a long sigh. “Well, I guess the word got out to the crooks that Evergreen was ripe for the picking.”

  “What are the cops doing about it?”

  “What cops do.”

  After a significant pause Nick said, “I miss you, Kimberly.” Kim went still. Okay, what had brought that on?

  “I—ah, I miss you too.”

  “I was hoping you would say that. I think it’s time we got to know each other a little better. I’m coming up.”

  Eleven

  AT THAT PRECISE MOMENT KIM KNEW EXACTLY HOW IT felt to be on a plummeting elevator. The bottom just fell out of her stomach. She glanced over at Ricco, who was making quick rounds of the people who’d narrowly escaped becoming roadkill, compliments of the Suburban.

  “I don’t think that would
be a good idea right now. I’m making inroads here. I want to keep working my angle.”

  “No one has to know we’re together.”

  “I’ll know.”

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Kim was about to fill it in when Nick said, “I’m getting the impression you don’t want me up there, Kimberly. Why not?”

  She shook her head and began to pace. “I told you, Nick. I work best alone. You’ll sidetrack me. I want to do what I need to do to close this deal and be back in L.A. next week. Your being here will delay that.”

  “Why not take a few days for ourselves?”

  Kim pulled the phone away and glared at it as if it had two heads. Who was this person? Not the Nick she knew. “Okay, Nick. Spill it.”

  “Spill what? I want to see my fiancée. Is that so hard to believe?”

  Oh, so now she was his fiancée? Yesterday morning she hadn’t been. “First of all, I am not your fiancée. Yet. And secondly, yes, it is hard to believe. Why your sudden interest in me?”

  He laughed. She felt as if the walls of a small room were closing in around her. She glanced back toward Ricco, who was coming straight at her. Shit.