Montana Secret Santa

by Debra Salonen

  Once back on her feet, she shook out her skirt and looked at her reflection. She’d bought the off-the-shoulder black top for its dramatic touches of red and gold. She also liked the way the stretchy material clung to her body. While not a traditional holiday print, it matched the orange-red color of her ankle-length peasant skirt. All that had been missing to give it a gypsy vibe was the tooled leather belt and hand-worked silver and turquoise buckle slung low on her hips.

  She fingered the simple onyx choker, debating on something more dramatic. “Oh, stop. This is dinner and a stroll. Not a damn thing more,” she told the woman staring back at her.

  And to make sure she wasn’t tempted to bring her date home, she turned off the light and closed the door, leaving the mess on the bed right where it was.

  She touched up her lipstick in the mirror in the powder room after swishing and spitting a bit of mouthwash. A pregame habit she’d acquired in New York while working for the same company that royally screwed Amanda.

  She walked into the living room, reflecting on the choices that brought her to Montana. Seeing the way the corporate big boys treated someone as talented, hardworking, and well-connected as Amanda had been a slap upside the head. She’d already been second-guessing her employment choices when Amanda’s invitation to join her self-employment adventure in Montana arrived. Not to mention the residual bad taste in her mouth from her breakup with Thomas.

  For the past year and a half, Krista had made Blue Sky her main focus. Her personal life had been on the back burner. Amanda called her picky but, in truth, Krista didn’t trust her date radar, anymore. She’d gone on a couple of dates but hadn’t felt a desire to follow-up either time. A fact that made what she felt for Jonah all the more baffling. At least the guys she’d gone out with were sticking around—not short-timers returning to their old lives a month or two down the road.

  Maybe loneliness was to blame for the connection she felt toward Jonah. Maybe she was grasping at a handy—compelling—diversion to cushion the inevitable disappointment that was bound to happen when… if… her family showed up. Not the best reason to instigate any kind of intimacy.

  “Dinner and the stroll,” she said firmly. “That’s all.”

  Still, her heart gave a little ballerina leap when her phone started dancing across the kitchen peninsula where she’d plugged it in to recharge. She checked the clock above the stove as she hurried to answer it. Was Bindi worse? Did Jonah have to cancel?

  The image on the screen wasn’t Jonah.

  “Hi, Dad. What’s up? How come you’re not on stage? This is Saturday night.”

  “Strained vocal cord. My doctor ordered five weeks of rest. Weeks,” he exclaimed, his voice breaking. After a rugged cough he added, “My understudy is dancing on the moon.”

  Krista frowned. Her father never missed a performance. He’d often said, “Open the door for someone younger and you might find that door closed for good when you come back.”

  “Should you be talking now? We could text.”

  He made a gurgling growl. “You young people with the quick thumbs. Forget it. I’ll make this quick. Your mother’s assistant just emailed you our itineraries. We’re booked, my dear. You know what they say, if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, we’ll have to come to you.”

  “Wait. Which am I? Mohammed or the mountain?”

  “The mountain. No, wait. I’ve forgotten. Damn pills. Supposed to relax my vocal cords. They turn my brain to mush, too.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. So, you and Mom are both coming to Marietta?”

  “And the other kids, too. I’ll forward their emails. I told your mother not to tell you until everyone confirmed.”

  Krista nearly dropped the phone. “That’s… um… amazing.”

  “Okay. I better hang up before I do any real damage. Love you, baby girl.”

  “Love you, too. Feel better soon.”

  She’d barely hung up when the doorbell rang.

  They’re coming. They’re really coming.

  She looked around her condo and groaned. She hadn’t even thought about decorating, let alone buying a tree. “Maybe Secret Santa has a magic time machine that can whisk me off to some desert island for a few days. The rest of the family will never miss me.”

  Shaking her head, she walked to the front door, checked the peephole out of habit, and then opened it wide for her date. “Hi. You’re just in time for a stiff drink.”

  Jonah looked askance at her impassioned greeting but didn’t hesitate to step inside. “Hello. Wow. Look at you. Gorgeous.”

  His praise and the look of desire she read in his eyes were just the distractions she needed. “Thank you. You clean up nice, too.”

  Instead of the oversize jacket she’d grown accustomed to seeing, he wore a gorgeous, dark gray tweed double-breasted wool overcoat that cried Tom Ford or some other high-end designer. The rust wool scarf around his neck matched his silk tie. “Mom told me to pack something nice just in case.”

  “In case of what?”

  “A date, I guess. She never gives up hope that one of her sons will surprise her and find the woman of her dreams.” His clever quip dashed away the last of her reservations.

  A date with a handsome, intelligent and charming friend. She could handle this.

  “I take it your brother is single, too?”

  “We prefer to call it relationship-challenged.”

  Her gaze fixated on the way his nimble fingers unbuttoned his coat. Clever. Quick. Ridiculously sexy.

  “Relationship-challenged. I like that. Me, too.”

  He draped the coat across the back of her sofa and looked around. The open floor plan didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. “I’m early. I haven’t done this stroll thing since I was a kid. Mom says it’s turned into a full-fledged street party. But a glass of wine would be a great start after the day I’ve had.”

  She motioned for him to follow her to the kitchen where she’d set out a bottle of her favorite old vine zinfandel. “Last year was my first time. Amanda and Tucker took me under their wing and we pretty much made a whole night of it. Watched the lighting procession and piled in with a rowdy group of partiers for a hayride. Visited all the local booths.”

  She put her hand on her hips. “In fact, that’s where I bought this belt.”

  His gaze was warm and appreciative and it lingered a bit longer than necessary, which made the corkscrew she’d picked up nearly slip from her fingers.

  Talking too fast, she added, “Bailey Zabrinski is a local jewelry designer. Were you at the chocolate shop when Sarah suggested we commission Bailey to make a Montana sapphire engagement ring for that cowboy…?”

  He took the opener from her hands and expertly uncorked the bottle. “She was Bailey Jenkins when I knew her. Louise’s daughter.”

  Krista held the wine glasses as he poured. “You’re right. I totally spaced on that connection. When I moved here, Amanda warned me never to say anything about anyone you didn’t want repeated because the person you were talking about was probably related to the person you were talking to.”

  Jonah poured the wine then held up the bottle to the light to study the label. “I’ve been wanting to try this vintner.”

  She held out his glass, pleased to see she’d conquered her nerves. “Me, too. I bought it at Two Old Goats wine shop when Copper Mountain Chocolate Shop held a promotional wine and chocolate pairing. The owners are a hoot.”

  He waited for her to clink their glasses together. “Cheers. What did you like best about the stroll last year?”

  She took a sip before answering. “I think it was the sense of community. My dad lives in Greenwich Village and I’ve been to a couple of street fairs that had that same sort of vibe.” She thought a moment and added, “And the food. The Bavarian truck sells the messiest, most delicious sausage with sauerkraut on a bun with hot mustard. Foodie heaven.”

  He smacked his lips. “Dang. You’re making me sorry we have reservations at the Graff, but I’
ve heard their steaks are to die for.”

  “Me, too. And I’m not really dressed for a hayride.”

  “That’s true. Will you be warm enough on the stroll?”

  She hiked up the hem of her skirt to reveal her black thermal leggings and fur-lined boots. “Don’t let the heels fool you. Except for that one morning when Bindi took me down, I do know the proper footwear for this climate.”

  She took a drink, this time closing her eyes to savor the rich, complex taste of the wine. “Speaking of Bindi, how’s she doing?”

  “Better. I’ve turned into a regular Julia Child of dog food. Bought and stewed a chicken this afternoon to make her chicken and rice. Then I set up an old baby gate I found in the shed to keep her separate from the other dogs, who were giving me looks that make me feel so guilty, I added some of the broth to their bowls, too.”

  She could picture him caving in all too easily. What a big heart he has!

  She watched as he took a long draw from his glass. He seemed to savor it the same way she had, eyes closed, a serious intensity in his expression. “This is perfect. Thank you.” He shook his head in a way that made her want to mess up his neatly combed hair. “I was thinking on the way over here that if someone would have told me I’d be back home babysitting a dog with an eating disorder a few months after selling my company for more money than I ever expected to make in my lifetime, I’d have laughed in their face.”

  She tried to picture her family packed into her living room a couple of weeks from now. “The things we do for family, right?”

  The way his eyebrows pulled together told her he’d heard the hint of panic she hadn’t meant to share. She quickly polished off her wine and walked to the hall closet to retrieve the cranberry, belted, mid-calf Anne Taylor coat her mother had given her on Krista’s first Christmas in Montana.

  Jonah used the heel of his hand to push the cork back into the bottle then joined her in the entryway to hold the coat for her. “Thank you.”

  The weight on her shoulders felt comforting but when its silky lining—cold from having been in the closet—met her bare shoulders she couldn’t repress a shiver.

  “Are you okay?”

  His proximity made her want to close her eyes and sink against him to let his warm, powerful arms keep the world at bay for even a minute or two. Instead, she stepped to the antique dresser she’d inherited from her grandmother, opened the middle drawer and pulled out the matching gloves, hat, and scarf that she’d bought from another local vendor.

  “Perfect. Shall we go?” She picked up her small clutch, which she’d already filled with everything she thought she might need for the evening. “Ready?”

  He buttoned his coat and walked toward her. “Almost.”

  Then he kissed her.

  Not a sprig of mistletoe in sight.

  Did she care? Not for a minute. She closed her eyes and dove into her senses. Wine nearly masked the mint-flavored toothpaste that matched her mouthwash. The woodsy soap or aftershave scent from his smooth cheeks and chin went straight to her head—in a sexy, I-want-more way. His tongue was its playful self, teasing and happy to engage, spar and challenge.

  When they came up for a breath, she blinked and pulled back. “I think you have things out of sequence. Shouldn’t you have saved that kiss for the end of our date? When you drop me at my door?”

  His head tilted sideways, sending a lock of hair errantly across his brow in a little boy way that grabbed her heart. “Who said anything about taking you home? Maybe I planned to sweet-talk you into coming back to my place to discuss my new marketing campaign?”

  “What campaign?”

  “The one that will make you fall for me.”

  She stepped back, her hand on his chest to make sure he kept his distance. “That isn’t going to happen. I like you, Jonah. And I’ve really enjoyed working with you, but we both know the end game here. When your parents get back, you exit stage left. I, on the other hand, just hired a new intern. I’m in Marietta for the long-haul.”

  “But from what I hear Blue Sky Promotions can sell ice to Eskimos, to use a cliché. That makes you the perfect person to champion my hopeless cause.”

  He used his thumb to wipe off a smudge of lipstick from the corner of her mouth. His touch set off a whole new wave of heart palpitations that vibrated straight to her libido. How messy is my bedroom? I can’t go to his place on a first date, but…

  She shouldered him out the door, turned the key in the lock then dropped it in her purse. “Shall we go?”

  “Not so fast. You need one of these, remember?”

  From his pocket he produced two cleverly designed Marietta Stroll buttons. “According to Em, although the stroll is free, these buttons, which cost a whopping dollar, are timeless souvenirs,” he added with a droll look, “that allow the Chamber of Commerce to put on this event without charging an entry fee. Plus, they get us a photo with Santa.”

  I like him. So much. Too much. When he leaned close to pin the button to her lapel, her insides went jittery and completely off-kilter, but when he stepped away to make sure her door was locked, she took a deep, calming breath and put on her New York City game face. She was certain to the world—and, more importantly, to Jonah Andrews—she appeared cool, calm, and collected.

  Once they were in Jonah’s mother’s sedan, she could study him in the light of the dash. He seemed more relaxed than he had when he first walked in. The result of one glass of wine or had he been able to read the depth of her desire in their kiss? She didn’t know and was determined not to think about it. She needed to stay focused on the present. Especially given the bombshell her father dropped today. My whole family really is coming to Montana for Christmas. God help us all.

  *

  The twinkle lights strung across Main Street and around every conceivable vertical object transformed the town into a sparkling winter wonderland. Christmas music blended with children’s voices and friends greeting each other as they gathered under the occasional gas heater. Jonah felt the day’s tension and frustration leave incrementally.

  That might have something to do with the laughter and joy he spotted in his date’s beautiful eyes. Something was bothering her, but she must have acquired some acting DNA from her parents because the average observer never would have noticed.

  “This is like Disney meets Winter Wonderland,” he admitted, leaning close to inhale the intoxicating scent of her perfume on the icy air. “Mom’s been trying to get me back for this for years but I was too busy.” He heard regret in his tone. And guilt.

  Why did I put off my parents with such a lame excuse? Of course, at the time his problems with production or HR or any one of a million things had seemed more important than spending quality time with his family.

  “You never came home for Christmas?”

  “Oh, I did. When I could get away. And I flew the folks out a couple of times. But usually I’d fly in at the last minute and take off as soon as I could.”

  “Like Santa?”

  He brought her hand to his lips and looked into her eyes. “Even when I was present I wasn’t really present, if you know what I mean.”

  Her sage nod hinted at troublesome memories of her own, and that wasn’t where he wanted this night to take them. “I probably sound like the biggest sap around, but now that I’m here I want to experience Marietta at Christmas. Will you be my guide?”

  Krista tilted her head in a saucy way, as if accepting his challenge with the same sort of can-do attitude she brought to every Secret Santa task.

  She pointed with her free hand. “There’s cocoa. Normally, that’s where I start,” she admitted. “But since we don’t want to ruin our appetites, let’s make a quick pass to see who’s cooking what, then hit the vendors. I might get some gift ideas for my sisters.”

  Even given the width of the street to walk, their progress was impeded by groups of friends stopping to exchange greetings. The infectious joy worked its magic, lifting Jonas’s spirits and brus
hing away the worries of the day. “This is great. I’m coming next year, for sure.”

  She started to comment, but a whiff of something mouthwatering made him stop dead, put his nose in the air, and sniff the way Bindi did when she smelled food. “O…M…G. Is it too late to cancel our reservation?”

  “Down, Bindi,” Krista said with a laugh, linking her arm through his to tug him in the opposite direction. “Next year. Let’s stick to the master plan.” She paused. “Hey, there’s Em and Louise. I forgot that they’d volunteered to set up a Secret Santa booth.”

  Jonah followed but part of him wanted to keep her all to himself. “Hi, ladies. Look at you. How are those candy canes working out?” He’d delivered the box of cellophane-wrapped mini-candy canes on his way back home from picking up Bindi. The candy canes came in long strips, which he’d intended to cut apart, but given his emergency with Bindi he hadn’t.

  Louise held up a pair of scissors. “They’re a big hit with the kids. Thanks for ordering them.”

  “We didn’t know you had such a sweet tooth,” Em said.

  “Me? Mint’s not my weakness. But I am a bit addicted to Sage’s cocoa.”

  “Then how come four candy canes were missing from the first strip in the box?”

  When he looked at Krista, the answer clicked.

  “Bindi,” they said in unison.

  The idea made sense considering what the vet told him. “But I didn’t see any wrappers.”

  Em chuckled. “You probably will tomorrow. I had a dog like that once. And four of these would be enough to make a dog her size sicker than a dog… pun obviously intended.”

  Oddly, the revelation relieved a bit of his guilt. True, he’d bought the candy canes and left the box open on the counter after he checked to make sure the company had sent him the right order. But that was not conveniently placed for the dog to get into. Bindi had had to work for her mischief.

  “By the way,” Louise said, “we had a couple of wishes dropped in the box tonight.” She slipped him a piece of paper that had been folded into a tight wad, the way a schoolchild might pass a secret note. “This one… well, Santa needs to do something sooner rather than later. And since we’re not meeting until Monday, I thought you should see it.”