Merry Kisses (Riverbend Romance 5) (7 page)

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“You don’t think so? I’m just accepting the challenge you’ve set before me.” He pinned her against the snow with one arm and a knee, showing her the snowball. Then he carefully slid it across her forehead, across her cheeks, and across her mouth in a slow zigzag.

She stared at him, eyes wide.

Heath tossed the snowball over his shoulder and heard it skitter down the path. “I just want you to know I could have smeared your face with that. I could have scrubbed it into your hair.” The brown hair that lay splayed across the white snow with a sparkle of its own. “I could have pushed it down your neck.” He leaned even closer. Mere centimeters separated their faces. “But I didn’t.”

“I would’ve deserved it.” Her words were only a breath, as soft as the gently falling snow.

“We don’t always get what we deserve,” he whispered back. He bent the remaining distance and brushed his lips across hers just once, never breaking contact with her eyes as they widened.

“Heath?”

Did she have any idea what that brief connection had done to his insides? Fireworks ricocheted from side to side throughout his entire body. Heath rolled over and clambered to his feet before offering her his hand. A moment later she stood on the path facing him.

Heath stuffed his gloves in his pocket and fingered the clumps of snow out of her long brown hair. It was a mess — a gorgeous mess — tumbling past her shoulders and down her back, where it curled against his fingers as though laying claim.

Time stood still. His hands abandoned her hair for her waist and tugged her closer, which was barely possible.
 

Her arms wrapped around him as she nestled against his chest.

Heath inhaled. Exhaled. Felt her matching breath.
Lord? I hope this is Your answer, because I’m going for it.

He brushed his cheek across her damp hair then dropped a petal-soft kiss on each eyelid in turn, feeling the flutter of her lashes in response. Her face tipped to welcome his. This time, when his lips met hers, it was a seal, not a request.

* * *

Sonya’s knees all but dissolved under the sensations coursing through her body. Only the contact with Heath’s lips kept her upright, as though they provided a magnet that held her in place. She clung to him with all the strength she could muster and felt the muscles in his arms around her ribcage ripple in response. His hands splayed across her back. Even through her coat she could feel the warmth of his touch.

Heath deepened the kiss, claiming her, and she responded in kind. She was his. He was hers. For all the flirting she’d done in the past five minutes — daring him to catch her and conquer her — she hadn’t expected the depth or the tumultuousness of her emotions. She didn’t give way lightly, though Heath had seen little evidence of reluctance.

Never had she felt more alive. She’d waited twenty-seven years for a connection this deep. Could this really be love? The true, forever kind of love that Kelly, Sarah, and Carly claimed found them over the past few months?

Was Heath the one?

He pulled away, just far enough to rest his forehead against hers. “Sonya.” He sounded out of breath. Like his, her lungs were starved for air. It was all she could do not to gulp in deep mouthfuls, but every other cell of her being was starving for this man. To repeat the soul-changing experience she’d just had.

Sonya stretched the tiny space between them and caught his mouth again, tasting him, a bit more controlled this time. He responded with tantalizing kisses, lightly exploring her mouth, her cheeks, her throat.

A few minutes later he slowed then stopped, his face pressed against hers. Only the movement of his hands against her back and hips proved the restraint he exercised.

“Heath...”

He turned his face to hers, gaze holding her as securely as his hands. As his lips just had. “Sonya.” His voice was husky. Unsure. “Are you okay?”

Define okay. “Yes.” Her voice cracked. “Are you?” Was he sorry? He couldn’t be. He’d come back for more as surely as she had.

“Not even a little bit.” Questions in his eyes, he lowered his mouth to hers one more time.

Sealed with a kiss. If she’d never known what that meant before, she did now.

CHAPTER 8

Everything had changed.

Heath found it difficult to concentrate on what the kids said to him on Friday at the North Pole. Hopefully his notes would make sense later. Maybe his distraction was so extreme he spoke gibberish to the children. Maybe he’d be called on having an off day. But didn’t everyone have one occasionally?

He sure didn’t feel off. If anything, he felt more
on
than ever. More alive. But yes, distracted as he watched Sonya run the other half of the system. She chatted with parents, got their info and payment if they wanted a photo — and most of them did — clicked the camera, and handed out candy canes with a glow she hadn’t had yesterday.

Maybe he was glowing, too. Would it show to the North Pole’s visitors? Would it show in a mirror? Or did one have to be a participant of last night’s amazing kisses to feel like the red carpet leading to the Santa throne was merely something to float above?

Sonya bent to talk to a little girl of about eight in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her hair had definitely not seen the bristle side of a brush yet today. Weird. Most parents went all out dressing their kids up for their annual Santa photo. But this girl also didn’t seem to be accompanied by an adult. Sonya glanced at him and, for a second, he forgot what he was supposed to be doing.
 

Right. The little girl. She stalked toward him, arms across her chest, glowering.

Uh oh.

Heath held out his hands, but she was having none of that sitting-on-Santa’s-lap nonsense. She stayed just beyond reach, staring at him. Maybe someone had just found out that Santa wasn’t real? If so, he could explain. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

“Bailey.”

“That’s a really nice name. What would you like for Christmas?”

“Why do you care?”

Whoa. It was all Heath could do not to rear back. At least his gaping mouth didn’t show behind all the white whiskers. He hoped. “Because I’m Santa. It’s Santa’s job to make wishes come true.” Probably not the best answer, but she’d caught him flat-footed.

“Only little kids believe that. Stupid kids.”

Heath’s mind raced.
Help me here, God. What do I say to this jaded child?

“You’re just mean, anyway. Last year I asked you for stuff and you didn’t even come at all. Some of my friends say you don’t always bring what they ask for, but at least you go to their house and give them
some
thing. What did I do wrong? I tried to be good.”
 

Bailey set her little chin, but Heath could see tears shimmering in her eyelashes.

He stared at her, helpless. “Did your mom mail your letter to the North Pole? The address is Santa Claus, North Pole, Canada, H0H 0H0.” Like ho ho ho, but she was in no frame of mind to hear the joke.

“No, I came here. My friends told me you were real. Nobody said I had to send a letter. That’s dumb. I can hardly read.”

“But you got presents from your parents, right?”

She blinked back tears. “Maybe my mom sent a letter saying I hadn’t been good. Telling you not to come to our house. Did she?”

Heath shook his head. “I didn’t get a letter like that.” What mother would...?

“She thinks Christmas is dumb. Now I know why. You’re not really real. You just look real.”

“Do you know the story of Saint Nicholas?”

Bailey narrowed her gaze. “Who’s that? What’s he got to do with anything?”

Heath glanced at Sonya and the lineup. Eight moms and their children waited. A woman checked her watch. Kids whined and fidgeted. He didn’t really have time to take this child aside right now.

“Listen, Bailey. I’ve got about an hour before I close down for today. Can you come back? I want to tell you that story.” And the story of Jesus, too, but he’d get to that in good time.

She angled her head and looked at him. “Maybe.”

“I hope you do. I’ll be watching for you. And ask that nice lady for one of those papers, okay? We usually tuck them in with the photos, but you don’t want a Santa photo, do you?”

By the twitch of her chin, he’d guess not.

“See you in an hour?”

“I said maybe.” She stalked back toward Sonya, the only easy way out of the North Pole setup.

Sonya glanced at him with a question in her eyes then bent to Bailey, offering her an invitation to the church children’s party in a couple of weeks. The little girl looked at it and shoved it in her pocket without folding it.

Heath breathed a prayer for the child who hurt in ways Santa could never fix. Only Jesus could. He’d get the girl’s last name and address from Sonya — at least if Bailey didn’t come back — and hand that in to the ministerial association early. One of the pastors would make a home visit.

He held his hands out in welcome to the toddler who came next, deposited in his lap by an eager young mom. “Hi there. I’m Santa. What’s your name?”

* * *

Sonya packed the camera away at the end of the hour then turned to the laptop where she’d recorded all the addresses for sending Santa photos.

Heath slid his arm around her and she leaned into him for a moment, though the sight of the red velour arm and white glove still caught her off guard. “Just closing up. Do you think that little girl will come back?”

“I don’t see her anywhere.” He sounded worried. “I want to wait around for her, though. Do you mind?”

She looked up into his brown eyes, itching to remove the white whiskers so she could see his whole face. And maybe steal a kiss, though that might be quite inappropriate in public. With Santa, anyway. Her face flushed at the thought of her father seeing that.

Heath didn’t seem to notice. He scanned the shoppers scurrying past, some heading toward the food court and others away.

Sonya looked, too, but no child in jeans, blue shirt, and scraggly hair appeared. She reached to shut off the laptop.

“Just a sec.” Heath put his hand on hers. “Can I get her last name and street address first? In case she doesn’t show?”

“What was her name again?” Sonya scrolled through the list.

“Bailey.” Heath watched over her shoulder, his warmth on her back making her want to lean into him.

Something niggled at Sonya’s mind. “She didn’t want a photo with you...”

“I know. I’ll get over it.” She heard the grin in his words.

“No, you don’t understand. I only get that information to mail the pictures. Otherwise there’s no need.”

Heath’s hands rested on her arms and turned her around. “We have no way to find her. That’s what you’re saying.”

Sonya nodded, staring at the big black button on his chest. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You had no way to. And making her give it anyway would have been wrong under the circumstances.” Heath released her abruptly and strode away, out of the North Pole and into the stream of shoppers. He turned this way and that, obviously looking for the child.

It had been a full hour since she left, though. If Bailey didn’t know how to tell time or her mom had taken her home, there wasn’t much they could do about it.

God, I know Heath feels really bad about Bailey. I pray that you will take care of her and give him a chance to talk to her.

Huh. Who would have known she’d ever pray for Santa Claus? A little grin poked at her cheeks as she finished packing up. She didn’t have a lot of choice whether to wait for Heath or not. He’d picked her up and given her a ride this afternoon, and home was clear across the bridge and too far to walk. She did have his number recorded in her cell. If he disappeared for too long, she’d send him a text.

With all the equipment packed up, Sonya settled down with a novel on her phone to wait.

* * *

Heath dropped onto the leather sofa in the middle of the mall corridor beside Sonya.

She set her cell aside and pulled her knees up to her chest. “Find her?”

“No.” He rested his elbows on his knees and stared down at the tile floor. He’d motored through every store, glancing up aisles. Odds were good that she wasn’t even in the building. That she’d gone home long before.

Sonya’s hand rubbed his back. “Why does it matter so much? You must have met other kids who didn’t believe in Santa.” She let out a sardonic laugh. “I was one of them.”

“Why didn’t you believe?” He angled his head to see her, but didn’t shift enough to make her stop that soothing circular motion.

“My dad told us other people lied to their kids. That Santa was a big game made up by adults to fool kids.”

“Sounds like there’s more to the story.” Heath held his breath. Would she confide in him? A visual of Sonya and him cradling a baby between them slipped into his mind and settled in with a near desperate longing. But it would be vital they agreed on Santa’s place in Christmas.

Could he give up the magic of Santa Claus himself to make Sonya happy? How important was it to him?

Not more important than her. He’d walk on hot coals if it would keep those kisses and back rubs coming. If he could marry her and grow old by her side until he looked like Santa with real whiskers instead of fake.

Heath’s back chilled when she removed her hand. “There’s always more to the story,” she said flatly. “Are you ready to go?”

He caught her hand in his and turned toward her. “I’ll just take a minute to change.” He searched her face, but her eyes only connected with his for an instant. He lifted his duffel bag from the pile of equipment beside Sonya. “I’ll be right back.”

CHAPTER 9

She was dating Santa Claus. Falling for his easy charm, the twinkle in his deep brown eyes and the ever-present grin on his face. Letting him kiss her. Okay, fine. She’d kissed him back. Maybe even instigated a few of them.

Sonya surged to her feet in her small apartment and paced to the patio door that led out to the balcony. She’d hardly slept for trying to figure out if her life had gone off its rails or only just found them.

Santa. Who’d ever have thought it? She could just imagine bringing Heath home to meet her parents. “Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Santa Claus.”