Kissing Santa Claus

by Donna Kauffman, Jill Shalvis

  “Doesn’t mean they should hook up.”

  “She hasn’t had sex in a year.”

  “Can’t imagine going more than one day…”

  She laughed. “I’ve spoiled you. Listen, all we’re going to do is play Santa and give Hope a man, even if it’s a temporary one.”

  “Lori.”

  “Trust me.”

  He laughed softly and pulled her close. “Now that’s the one thing I can promise you.” He pressed his jaw to hers. “For now and always.”

  “For now and always,” she said on a sweet sigh. “That still makes my knees weak, you know that? You make my knees weak. That’s all I want for Hope, Ben.”

  “Weak knees?”

  She slid her hand up his chest and smiled. “We can pull it off. She’ll thank us.”

  “If you say so. But if you could pull it off with your job still intact, that would be great.”

  After an hour of chopping wood, Hope turned and eyed the wood pile she’d made. It was shrinking instead of growing. Then she looked at the deep grooves from the wood pile to the side of the building. Someone had been doing the stacking for her without saying a word. Since that was extremely unlike Ben, and extremely unlike Lori—both of whom would do any chore needed at any time, but with their mouths working overtime—she set down her ax and leaned on the handle.

  And waited.

  Sure enough, within a minute, a hooded figure came from around the back of the house where the stack of wood was, brushing off his gloved hands. He was as tall as Ben, but leaner.

  And wearing glasses.

  She watched Danny walk toward the stack of wood without even looking at her. Back and forth he went, working with a steadiness that told her maybe he wasn’t quite the desk nerd she’d convinced herself.

  And since that gave her a funny little tingle in places she’d nearly forgotten she possessed, she turned to head back inside. She appreciated the help, but that didn’t change the fact that he was here to assess whether she was going to be able to pay back her loan. No way around it, Danny was going to cause her trouble.

  And heartache.

  Because dammit, she loved this place. Loved it like it was her family, which was ridiculous. It was just a place. But it was hers.

  The back door was locked, which was odd. Cupping her hands, she peered into the window of the kitchen. No one there. She pounded on the door, but Lori didn’t appear and neither did Ben.

  Which meant that they’d found themselves a closet or God knew where and were acting like bunnies again.

  Terrific.

  She could wade through the snow around to the other side of the building and let herself in the front door, but they hadn’t cleared the snow from the side yards, and without snow shoes she’d sink up to her thighs. Not fun. Instead, she whipped out her cell phone and texted Lori.

  Let me in pls.

  Lori immediately texted back:

  Sorry. On a supply run.

  “Bullshit,” Hope muttered and shoved her phone back in her pocket. No one was on a supply run, the roads were complete muck. Nope, her chef and her fix-it guy were definitely going at it.

  Again.

  It should have irritated the hell out of her, but instead she found herself sighing. She was happy for them, very happy, but something deep inside her wished…what? That she had that same thing? She’d never been one to daydream about the white wedding, white picket fence, and kid-friendly SUV.

  And yet…She turned and leaned against the door. As far as the eye could see was nothing but a white blanket of snow and gorgeous tall pines masquerading as three-hundred-foot-tall ghosts swaying in the light breeze.

  And one hardworking guy stacking wood.

  Okay, so a small part of her suddenly wanted the dream, she admitted to herself as Danny dropped his last load on the stack against the house.

  He took a moment to eye the job he’d just finished, then came toward her, stride determined, expression inscrutable, forcibly reminding her that the guy was capable of melting her bones.

  Oh, and that he could kiss.

  That thought snaked in unwelcome, and stuck. Lori had been correct, he was a face holder, and in possession of a very talented tongue, and—

  And she wanted him. God, so much. She straightened a bit, her belly quivering in tune to her knees. His expression didn’t soften as he came toward her, but it did heat. He was going to kiss her again, and in spite of herself, her eyes drifted shut in anticipation.

  His booted feet crunched closer in the snow. A steady gait. A sure gait.

  Slowing…

  Stopping.

  But the touch of his hands pulling her up to him never came. Nor did the feel of his mouth taking hers.

  “See, you’re not the only one who can control yourself,” came his rough whisper in her ear.

  Her eyes whipped open in time to catch a view of the back of him as he vanished around the corner of the building.

  And it was a very nice back.

  She let out a low, shaky breath. City rat bastard had a sharp wit, she’d give him that. And a good ass.

  And far too much of that control she suddenly wished he didn’t possess at all.

  Danny thought he’d be chomping at the bit to get back to LA, but there was a certain charm to the wilds of Colorado, a sort of…quiet calm that he liked.

  Truthfully? If it wasn’t for the unfairness of Hope’s situation, he might have really enjoyed himself out here.

  The thing was Hope was a smart woman. She’d updated all the parts of the building that she’d had to for the place to run. And according to the business plan she’d outlined for Edward, she had a clear order of what she wanted to do with the place as the money came in.

  Except the money wasn’t coming in.

  And like most of the other problems she had, it wasn’t her fault. She was paying too much on the loan to her brother. She could get a better deal, she needed a better deal.

  He got online and downloaded her brochure. As he’d clearly told her, she wasn’t charging enough. Plain and simple. She needed to up her prices and needed to tout herself as exclusive and luxurious, both of which she had the means to be within her disposal with only a minimal amount of work on her part. She already had the first-class chef—herself—and the gorgeous setting. All she needed were those cosmetic changes; some paint, some six-hundred-count silk sheets and down comforters to go with…His fingers worked the keyboard, bringing up new research on successfully run B&Bs…

  His cell rang.

  “So,” Edward said without preamble. “Did she agree to the new loan?”

  In that moment, Danny had never hated his job more. He really needed that change. “I was hoping you’d rethought things.”

  “I don’t rethink.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Danny shook his head. “Okay, you know what? That was me. I’ve rethought things. I’m not going to do this for you, Edward.”

  “You handle my money. Doing so is your job.”

  “Not anymore, it’s not.”

  There was a sharp pause. “Are you quitting?”

  Danny drew a deep breath. “Yes.”

  “Because of this loan?” Edward asked in disbelief.

  “She’s your sister.”

  “Step,” Edward said. “Stepsister. And I’d recall on my own mother, you know that.”

  It was true. Edward had never made a secret about the kind of man he was. But if Danny stayed, he’d become the same. “I’m done, Edward.”

  “What the hell is going on up there anyway?”

  “A lot of thinking.”

  “Sounds like it. What are you going to do that’s better than this job?”

  “I’m going to start an accounting firm.” A small one, for small businesses, where he could help and maybe even make a difference instead of ruin people. “Accounting and financial services.”

  “Come on,” Edward said on a laugh. “You love big money as much as I do, you big CPA geek.”

  Yeah,
he did. Or had. But big money meant dealing with people he didn’t always like or respect, and in return, he would turn into someone he didn’t like or respect, either, he felt it.

  “If you walk away,” Edward warned, “we’re done. No crawling back when you decide you miss my millions.”

  “I won’t miss it.”

  “Is this Hope’s doing? Because she has that effect on people. Trust me, she drives them crazy. Just come back, and—”

  “I’m snowed in. And she’s not driving me crazy.” Well, she was. She really, really was, but in a good way. “Good-bye, Edward.”

  “Hey, you tell her she still has to pay. I’ll come up and get that money myself if I have to. You tell her that.”

  Danny hung up and looked at himself in the mirror over his dresser. Hair neat. Glasses in place. Shirt pressed and tucked in.

  Jesus. He really was a fucking CPA geek.

  Well, he’d just made a huge life change, he could certainly make a few more. He untucked his shirt, then laughed at himself. Wow, what a rebel. Shaking his head, he made his way downstairs. Lori had asked him to come back down, promising him a surprise in the living room, a surprise he sincerely hoped had something to do with the smell of something delicious baking. Stacking wood for two hours had made him as hungry as he’d ever been. Or maybe it was quitting his job.

  Or maybe it was a certain stubborn, proud B&B owner who stirred him up in both a very good, and very bad, way.

  He heard the banging, then turned the corner into the living room.

  Hope stood on a six-foot ladder, wielding a staple gun and hanging a string of Christmas lights. She wore her usual, a long-sleeved tee and hip-hugging jeans. This time she’d added a tool belt to the mix, which was strapped around her waist and immediately made him hot for some reason. She had an iPod strapped through one of her belt loops, earphones in her ears, a Santa cap on her head.

  And she was singing at the top of her considerably tone-deaf lungs, which had him grinning. The woman could do anything which made her quite possibly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  Yeah, he’d made the right decision to quit, because there was no way he’d ever pull out the rug from beneath her.

  She deserved more.

  Knowing she couldn’t possibly hear him through the music blasting in her ears, he walked into the room, getting in her line of sight just as she executed a little ass shimmy that made him laugh.

  When she saw him, she jumped. “Sorry,” he said as she pulled out one of the earplugs. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t.” Couldn’t. That was the underlying message she wordlessly imparted. “Lori’s bugging me to finish decorating.”

  “She told me to come to the living room.”

  Hope’s eyes narrowed as she gripped the top rung of the ladder. “She did, did she?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you’ll have to excuse her. She got married and her brain turned to mush.” She stretched out some more lights to hang.

  He reached up to help hold the lights for her. “Weather forecast is looking pretty nasty,” he noted.

  “Hopefully it’ll hold.” She used the staple gun on the lights, then looked down at him. “I’m sure you have other people to gouge the soul from.”

  “Is that what I’ve done, gouge your soul?”

  “No.” She sighed. “I do realize you’re just the messenger.”

  “Was. I was the messenger.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I quit my job.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. I’ve known for some time that I’ve been needing a change.”

  She stared at him. “You quit your job.”

  “I’m thinking of starting my own business, where I get to pick my clients.” He was looking forward to that. “A small accounting and financial service—right up my alley.” And under those circumstances, he could see himself on the other side. The good side. Fighting for this woman. This smart, sexy, stubborn, gorgeous woman whose only crime had been to trust a member of her family.

  “Are you crazy?” she asked, backing down the ladder. “Have you seen the news? We’re in a thing called a recession. Now’s not a good time to be without a job.”

  “I’ll be okay. Hope, about your loan.”

  “I’ll be able to pay it.”

  “How?” he asked frankly, worried that Edward would do exactly as he’d just promised and come here himself. He slid a hand on her arm. “I saw the For Sale sign on the adjacent lot to this one, which you also own.”

  “Well technically, the bank owns it. But if it sells before I get my money back, then everything’s good.”

  Except that properties weren’t moving, not in this market. “What if you got investors to buy your lot?”

  “Look, I realize that you no longer work for Edward, and frankly, that says a lot about you, but I’m not about to blindly trust you. I’ll do this. My way.” She reached into a bag for a fistful of greenery and looked around for a place to hang it. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Lori insisted on this stuff going up.” She headed for the huge, tall mantel.

  “It’s mistletoe.”

  “I think I’d know mistletoe.” She stretched up to hold the stuff in place while she nailed it with the gun.

  He waited until she’d reholstered the staple gun, until she’d turned to face him before putting a hand on the mantel on either side of her. Leaning in close, until their lips were only an inch apart, he waited for a reaction.

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth and went to half mast.

  He loved how she put herself out there, no façade, no hidden agenda. It was one of the most attractive things about her, and he shifted even closer. His mouth brushed her cheek now, then the corner of her lips, and when her hands came up to grip his shirt, he kissed her.

  She immediately leaned into him, making that same soft sigh of pleasure she’d made last time, the one that made him instantly hard. She tasted like warm, sweet, giving female, like forgotten hopes and dreams, and when she moved against him and slid her tongue to his, he thought he might die of the pleasure.

  “Okay,” she murmured, pulling back, eyes still closed. “Maybe it’s mistletoe.”

  He ran his thumb over a smudge of dirt on her jaw and let out a rough breath. “Yeah.”

  “That stuff should come with a warning.” She turned, and with her tool belt slapping against her hips with every step she took, she walked out of the room.

  6

  Hope strode into the kitchen and headed straight for the sink, where she downed a full glass of cold water.

  It didn’t help.

  She stared out the window at the still falling snow and put a hand on her heart to keep it from leaping right out of her chest, because holy smokes. Holy smokes could that guy kiss. She set down the empty glass and found Lori standing in the doorway grinning at her.

  Hope sighed. “Saw that, did you?”

  “Seriously. You ever hear of behind closed doors?”

  “I know. God.” At least no guests had been roaming about. Real professional, Hope.

  “Look at it this way.” Lori gave her a thumbs up. “You’re doing a helluva job with that evil plan to make his visit miserable. I bet he hated that torturous tongue lashing you just gave him.”

  Hope thunked her head on the cabinets. “My evil plan is kaput.”

  “Good. Why?”

  “Because he quit. He’s going to start his own business, one where he doesn’t have to suck the soul out of people.”

  “Wow. Good for him. You got to him.”

  Yeah. And damn if he wasn’t getting to her…

  She shoved away from the counter and headed toward her office.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To bury myself in paperwork.” Anything to avoid reliving the past few minutes, which had been fantasy-worthy, and definitely worth reliving—neither of which she wanted to face. “And like you were helping me make him miserable. You wer
e too busy manufacturing ways to get us together.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lori said innocently.

  “You locked me out of the house earlier. You sent him to the living room where you knew I’d be. You—”

  “Wow, you’ve got quite the imagination.”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Play innocent. Just stop playing me.” She hit her office, where she spent the next few hours trying to rob Paul to pay Peter, and unable to do that, did her best to handle the money situation so as to make every creditor happy.

  An impossible feat.

  With a sigh, she closed her eyes and tried something she hadn’t tried since she’d been four and in church with her mother. She clasped her hands together and bowed her head. “God? Do you think you could do me a favor? If you help me, I promise I’ll…” She hesitated, wracking her brain for a worthy offering. “I’ll stop fantasizing about Edward’s speedy death.” She opened her eyes, peeked at her bank balance, and sighed in disappointment.

  As usual, she was on her own.

  She turned to the window, where she saw not just the snow, falling much more lightly now, but Danny, walking the perimeter of her property while simultaneously looking down at a large piece of paper in his hands.

  What was he up to now?

  She should just ignore him. But she could no more do that than stop thinking about how he’d kissed her. How he’d held her face and looked into her eyes before and after as if…

  As if she meant something to him.

  The thought brought a lump to her throat, which pissed her off. Pushing up from her desk, she shoved on her knit cap and grabbed her coat. Because he might have kissed her as if she was the most important thing to him at that moment, but right now he had something else on his mind.

  And she wanted to know what.

  And…and maybe, just maybe, she wanted to see if he meant something to her, too.

  So she headed outside, but the cold slap of air on the porch knocked some sense into her and she hesitated.

  What was she doing?

  She didn’t need to talk to him, she needed to ignore him. And repeating that like a mantra, she turned back to the door.