Have Yourself a Naughty Little Santa
Page 15
He moved past her. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to work out and find a quiet place to have dinner. Give my mother and sisters my regards and enjoy your dinner.”
• • •
TWO HOURS LATER KIM FOUND HIM NURSING A BEER AT Maxine’s. His face was dark and stormy. And for the first time since she had met him and seen him in a social setting, there were no women fluttering around him. Indeed, they watched him from afar knowing this night he wanted no company.
Kim slid onto the bench across from him. “You missed the best paella ever.”
His dark, solemn eyes rose to hers, and she caught her breath. As if she could see straight down to his soul, she felt his pain. “I’m sorry, Ricco.”
He shrugged. “Don’t pity me, Kim. I’m a big boy.”
She nodded. “It’s ironic, you know.”
He raised a brow. “How so?”
“Here you are, the one constant male in your mother and sisters’ lives, yet the one who wasn’t is the one enjoying their company while you sit here alone nursing a warm beer.”
He snorted. “They can have him. I’ll be back next year.”
“He won’t be here when you come back.”
He shook his head, pushed the mug away from him, and stood. He tossed a ten onto the wooden table. “I’m counting on it.”
He stood staring down at her for a long minute. She didn’t know what to say. He was adamant. And she understood. Nodding, she took his outstretched hand. “I understand. I have no contact with my parents for very similar reasons. I almost feel like it would be more of a burden in my life if they were to want a relationship.”
“Relationships require emotions, sacrifice, and pain.”
“Yeah, I’ve learned that the hard way. It’s why I’ve become a workaholic.”
His hand was warm. She liked the way hers felt in it. Their fingers laced, and he pulled her along and out into the cold night air. The town had quieted. The events of the day had left an uncomfortable pall. “Is it always this quiet?”
“No.”
After several minutes, Ricco asked, “Why did you get divorced?”
Kim stiffened. No longer wanting contact, she tried to pull her hand from his. No one had ever asked her that question. He tugged her hand back.
“Don’t be a chicken. Tell me, I want to know.”
“Why?” she said, barely able to speak.
“Call me curious.”
She shot him a hard glare. She resented his question, and she also resented his infringement into what had been, for her, a most enjoyable stroll.
“I found out my first husband married me for my money. Or, more precisely, my parents’ money. He decided after two months that I wasn’t worth the wait. My second husband was a babe magnet, like you. My jealousy was too much for him to live with. I found out after our divorce that I hadn’t been jealous enough.”
“So they soured you on all relationships?”
“They had some help. I had two serious relationships afterward, and as you have proven repeatedly, men have the irresistible urge to share their seed with more than one woman. I used to be a one-man woman and expected my man to be a one-woman man. As that did not happen, I choose now to do as I have with you: No messy emotional involvements, just feel-good sex. My rules, my terms, my life. Simple.” She looked up at him. “Why haven’t you married?”
He grinned and felt a little bit like a cad when he answered, “I’m not a one-woman man.” But it was the truth.
Kim nodded. “Of course. Silly me to forget that one small fact.”
After that, they walked in silence back to the inn. They entered through the back door to the kitchen, and Ricco stopped dead in his tracks. Mr. Maza sat at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of something in his hands. Ezzy bustled about and smiled at her brother as if it were every day he walked in to find their father at the table.
Anger gathered into a storm cloud on Ricco’s dark face. He glared at his sister, then at Kim. She shook her head. “I—”
He began to stalk past the old man when he said to Ricco, “Son, can you spare your father just a minute?”
Ricco stopped, rooted to the wooden floor. He turned on his heels and stared at his father, a murderous rage twisting his handsome features. “Don’t you mean can’t I spare you a few bucks to buy a forty?”
Ezzy gasped.
He turned on her, his dark eyes blazing. “Don’t,” he said, low and menacing. “Do not chastise me for what I say”—he pointed to Mr. Maza—“to that person.”
He turned back to the man. “I have nothing to say to you, old man.” He faced his sister and put it to her. “Him or me?”
“Wha—what do you mean?”
“I won’t stay under the same roof as him. Not even for five minutes.”
“Ricco! That isn’t fair!” Esmeralda pleaded, coming toward him with her arms outstretched.
Ricco was having none of it. “I’m going up to take a shower. You have that long to decide.”
He stalked off. Swiping back tears, Esmeralda moved to sit next to her father. “Papa, we told you it would not be easy. Ricco is still very angry. You cannot force him to listen. He must come to you in his time.”
Mr. Maza looked up to his daughter, his old eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I have wasted a lifetime. I may not be here in Ricco’s time.”
Kim felt an inkling of compassion for the man, but the vision of Leticia raped and beaten sickened her. It was this man’s fault. Her sense of self-preservation swelled for Ricco. She understood all too well his pain. And while it wasn’t her place to have any say in this family’s schism, she couldn’t help wanting to come to Ricco’s defense, especially considering what he had told her about his father. “Mr. Maza, with all due respect, I don’t think Rico will change his mind.” She took a deep breath before she continued. “You have wounded him beyond repair. If you love him as you said tonight at dinner, then leave him alone.”
Ez sucked back a sob and nodded. She stood wringing her hands and looking as if she wanted to comfort the old man but knowing that if she did so she betrayed her brother. “Papa, she’s right. Leave Ricco alone.”
The old man made as if to stand. Though he could have used assistance, he waved both Kim and Ez away. He grabbed his cane and slowly came to his feet. “I will respect his wishes. It’s past time that I put his feelings before my own.” He kissed his daughter on the cheek, smiled at Kim, then disappeared out the back door.
Kim and Ez looked at each other and let out a long breath. Ez closed her eyes, then slowly opened them. “Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
Ez plunked down into the chair her father had vacated. She dropped her head into her hands and slowly shook her head. “I love my brother. I love him more than any man on this planet except my husband, but sometimes I just want to slap him silly.”
She choked back a sob and looked up at Kim. Her eyes were filled with tears. “I don’t know what to do.”
Kim stood for a long minute, wrestling with the decision of getting more involved than she should. In the end she decided a little advice couldn’t hurt.
“Frankly, I don’t really see where the choice is here.”
Esmeralda sniffed and wiped her sleeve across her damp eyes. “What do you mean?”
Kim put her hands out, palms up, as if she was weighing something. “Ricco, Enrique. No comparison.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
Esmeralda sat forward as if to defend her position, but Kim gave her two more cents. “Esmeralda, I understand you want everything perfect, but in so doing you hurt your brother. In his eyes he’s been here for you and you’ve picked your father—the man who wasn’t—over him. You need to accept the fact that the gap between father and son will never be bridged. Ricco doesn’t want it, no matter how much you, your mom, and your sisters do.”
Ez choked back a sob. “I just want everyone to get along.”
�
�Forcing your father on Ricco is only making him dig in deeper. If there is to be any hope, you need to let nature take its course—otherwise you will lose your brother forever.”
“We’ve always been able to cajole Ricco into anything. I guess I thought I could do it this time.”
“In the real world that isn’t feasible.”
Esmeralda laughed, the sound caustic. “But this is Christmas town. Everything is possible here. You just have to believe.”
“Sorry, Ez, no matter how much I believed in Santa Claus, there wasn’t.”
Suddenly Kim was tired. It had been a busy three days. She was ready for bed. “Look, things will work out the way they’re supposed to. It just might not be what you want.”
Esmeralda stared into space, tuning Kim—and the truth—out. “Good night,” Kim said, then made her way up to her room. She drew a hot bubble bath; just as she was about to get in, she remembered she’d promised Nick a phone call. Not wanting to talk to him, she waited until her bath was ready, then forced herself to make the call. She dialed his number on the inn phone.
He answered on the first ring. “I’ve been waiting all day!”
“I’ve been just a little busy.”
“Give me an update.”
She let out a long breath. Since the phone was cordless, she sunk into the hot, soapy tub. Closing her eyes, she luxuriated for a long minute. “Oh, God, that feels so good.”
“Who’s there with you?” Nick demanded.
Kim’s eyes flew open, and she couldn’t help a laugh. “Me, myself, and I. I just sunk into the most decadent bath ever.”
There was a long silence; all she could hear were quick, jerky breaths. “How big is the tub?”
“Big.”
“Enough for two?”
“Uh-huh.” She closed her eyes and let the hot, sudsy water infiltrate her skin and muscles.
“Tell me about the rest of your day,” Nick softly said. She didn’t care that his mood went from rabid to seductive. She was too tired to gauge his moods and guess at the reason for the swings.
“Not much. I met a few more of the old guard here in town and took a tour of the lake.” No way was she telling him about the dead reindeer.
“I bet that was interesting,” he said, sarcasm lacing each word.
“Interesting enough.”
“How did your meeting with the mayor go?”
She stifled another yawn and said, “It went really well. That new offer of yours has really pissed them off. The council as a whole isn’t interested in considering, but there are two members, they own the mistletoe nursery, who are ready to capitulate. They want out big-time. The four other council members are in a holdout pattern.”
“Can you get close to the other members?”
She smiled. “I already have. I had dinner at the controller’s house tonight, and another council member was there as well. Right now, they’re impregnable. If this weather holds, we might have a problem.”
“What do you suggest?”
Kim sighed. “I don’t know. I’m so tired right now. I do know Town & Country is coming in tomorrow for a week. They’re shooting now for next year’s holiday edition. They’re featuring California’s best. And at dinner tonight, Leticia, the controller, told me there is a real good chance Kelly Ripa is bringing her family out next week and wants to shoot a segment for Live with Regis and Kelly. But that’s supposed to be a secret. She doesn’t want the kids to be compromised.”
“Interesting. I’ve had the top IT guys dig for info on the internet. Whoever holds the note to those mortgaged properties is buried. Get me that information.”
Kim nodded. “I’m working on that. It could take a little time. I do know it’s a private consortium. It’s not like they’re going to give that information just because I ask. In fact, I did, and they clammed up.” She yawned again. “Nick, I’m beat as hell.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come up there for a few days?”
She stiffened. “Ask me in a couple of days. Right now I want to focus on what I have to do here.”
“Okay, but don’t make me beg.”
Nick Gold didn’t beg for anything. He just bought it. And she shivered; he was, in a sense, buying her. She didn’t like the way that felt.
For a long time after she hung up, Kim wondered if marrying Nick was the right thing to do. When she had agreed, it had seemed like the perfect match. The perfect merger. The perfect solution. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She toweled off and slipped into a cute little burgundy two-piece cammie and short pajama set. The soft silk felt good on her warm skin. She took her silk-and-velour robe from the armoire and decided she should at least let Ricco know his father would stand back. Maybe he would rest easier.
She wasn’t sure why she decided to tell him. He would find out in the morning from his sister, but something drew her across the hall to the Dasher suite. Softly, she knocked on the door. A long moment later, the door opened. She swallowed hard. He was bare-chested, dressed only in long flannel sweats. He glowered down at her. She put her hands up and said, “Don’t kill the messenger.”
He stood back from the door and she entered the cozy room. The fire crackled in the fireplace, and she smiled at the careless way his clothes flopped out of his duffel bag like limp dolls. “How long before you put your things away?”
“Not everyone on this earth is as compulsive as you.”
“There is nothing wrong with being tidy.”
“You’re anal.”
She set her hands on her hips and squarely faced him. “So what?”
He shrugged. “So nothing. Why are you here?”
She wanted to punch him. He wouldn’t look at her, as if she no longer held any appeal to him. The thought crushed her. And she chastised herself for it. She’d known it would happen. It always did. She let out a long breath. Nick was not a mistake. Nick was the right choice. No more of this emotional roller-coaster bullshit.
“Your father.” He shot her a glare, and she put her hands up again. “I mean your sperm donor has agreed to leave you alone and make no further attempts to contact you. I don’t mean as in he’s leaving your mother’s house, but he won’t be back here.”
“Oh, so he decided not to come back, not Ez?”
“What do you mean?”
“My sister! Was it her choice or his, damn it?”
“What the hell does it matter? He’s not coming back here.”
“It matters to me that my sister didn’t stick up for me, that’s what’s the matter.”
Ah. It made sense. His pride was damaged. And she could understand his heart. He had been there for his sister, the father had not, and in his eyes she’d picked the father. “Ez would have told him. He just beat her to it.”
“Right.” Ricco began to pace the floor. “I love my family, but damn if I’m going to stand by and watch them all get caught up with that drunk, then crash and burn when he milks them for everything they have or leaves in the middle of the night with the silverware, like he’s done in the past.”
“He can’t walk without the aid of a cane, Ricco. I doubt he’ll go sneaking off into the night with your mother’s silver.”
He turned fierce eyes on her. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from Miss Hard-Ass Don’t-Fuck-With-Me Michaels.”
Kim turned toward the door and put her hand on the knob, but before she said good night she held out her other hand. “I’d like my locket.”
He stood scowling at her, but then he turned and opened the drawer to his nightstand. He pulled out a small envelope—the Legacy stationery—and handed it to her.
She opened it, and the locket slid into her hand. A hard jolt of emotion hit her, and she felt the hot sting of tears. She looked up at Ricco, who had lost some of his anger. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost this forever. Thank you.”
He stood hard and unmoving. “You’re welcome.”
Before she turned into a blubbering ni
nny, Kim rushed from the room to hers.
• • •
RICCO STOOD STARING AT THE DOOR FOR SEVERAL MINUTES, wondering why he felt so empty at that moment. What the hell was wrong with him? What the hell was wrong with his family, and what the hell was wrong with Evergreen? In three short days, his life was shot to hell. And he didn’t like it one bit. It was one thing to be undercover or working an investigation, where you could keep your emotions in a tiny little compartment and not worry about feelings. Police work was cut and dry. No warm, fuzzy bullshit involved. But this! This—family, Kim, and Evergreen stuff—was too much. He didn’t want to be the savior of the world.
He paced the room like a caged tiger. Everything and everyone was closing in around him. His flight instinct crouched, poised, and waited for the final trigger. For the second night in a row, Ricco pulled on his running gear and hit the streets of Evergreen. His hot breath curled around his head as he rounded the north end of town for the third time. The streets, while well-lighted, were barren. No strollers, no couples walking hand in hand admiring the stunning array of Christmas lights and decorations. The place was dead. And with a sudden twist in his gut, Ricco knew they were all doomed. Money couldn’t buy happiness, but it could buy towns, and if Land’s Edge—a Fortune 500 company flush with cash, he’d learned today—had their eyes set on his hometown, it was going to take an act of Congress or an act of God to prevent it. He didn’t hold much hope either one would come through.
As Ricco came down his mother’s side of the street he smelled the aromatic smell of a cigar before he saw the red glow of the tip. And latched onto it and walking as spry as a teenager was his dear old dad. Son of a bitch—Ricco had known he was scamming them.