Military Romance Collection: Contemporary Soldier Alpha Male Romance (125 page)

Chapter Four

Nick woke with Callie curled into him like a kitten and with a child peering into his face.
Gracie.
He squinted at her. “Good morning.”

“What are you doing here?” She put her hands on her hips. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

Or pants.
Not that
that
was any of Gracie’s business. “Your aunt wished me here.” He moved his arm from beneath Callie and pulled the covers up to her chin, to keep their state of undress from the girl’s sight.

Gracie sat down beside him and tossed her head. “Why would she wish for you?”

“Because…she needed me.”

And he needed her. Though he hadn’t realized it at first. But now, in the light of day, he hoped he was allowed to stay and continue to be her dream man. There was something about Callie; he felt as if he belonged with her, and she with him.

Forever.

Considering he was immortal like his parents, forever was a very long time.

Callie is human, not immortal.
The thought hit him like a reindeer kick to the balls. Nick sucked in a deep breath and tried to hold in the immensity of the loneliness and despair he felt even as Callie lay cuddled against him. She was going to die—someday—and he’d lose her.
Forever.

Nick gaped at the little girl, unable to move or talk as despair clawed at his insides.

Gracie had no empathy for his situation. Instead, she poked him in the shoulder, her annoyance with his stillness radiating off her small body like heat off a grill. “Do you know how to make pancakes? I’m hungry.”

He gulped his despair away. Callie and Gracie were both going to die—but not yet. Not today.

Or at least, not now.

The fragility of life occurred to him. And then, the reality of Gracie’s life. This little tyrant, perched on the edge of the mattress like a bird, was a veteran of life and death, and still—she demanded pancakes. She managed to go on, to soldier through the sadness and the anger and even the guilt. So…so should he. Nick nodded. “Yes, I know how to make pancakes. I can make any kind of pancakes you want.”

She bit her lip, considering. “Can you make them look like things besides circles? Auntie Callie can make them look like Mickey Mouse and SpongeBob.”

“Of course. I can make them into any shape you want.”

“I bet you can’t make a Christmas tree,” she challenged.

“Easy. Try me,” Nick answered and pointed to the door. “Go to the kitchen and get the pan out of the cupboard. I’ll be right there.”

The little girl jumped off the bed, and scurried from the room without any further urging. He watched her go and couldn’t help but smile. Then he got up and vanished himself back to the North Pole for some clothes.

Callie woke slowly. She felt good all over, but sticky from the dried juices of sex. She smiled to herself, remembering what she and her dream man did all night.

Wait a minute. If he was a dream, why am I covered with…hold on a second.
She sat up, kicking the covers away to peer down at her naked skin. She couldn’t see anything, of course, but it felt crusty, like…sugar. And the musky scent of sex—
and gingerbread?
— permeated the air. She looked around; her gaze fell on the handcuffs, still dangling from the headboard.
What the hell?

She remembered how the man—Santa, from the day before—had appeared in her living room wearing nothing but his boots and his hat.

His boots! In her dream, she’d left them next to her nightstand. Callie slid out of the bed and peered around the table. A pair of shiny—slightly sooty—black boots stood there, side by side.

Her knees crumpled and she fell to the floor. Her heart pounded as if it were going to burst through her chest. But, if there had been a man here—then where was he, now? Who was he?
Why
was he?

Oh my God! Gracie!
She leapt to her feet and raced from the room. If that man—whoever he was—had touched a hair on her niece’s head, she’d…

“That one looks like a monkey!” Gracie’s voice pealed from the kitchen. “How did you do that, Nick?”

“Magic.” He chuckled.

“There’s no such thing as magic,” Gracie scolded.

“Then how did I make a pancake look just like a monkey?”

How did he get in the house? And where did he come from? And why was he still here?
Callie suddenly realized she was standing in the hallway to the kitchen, naked and crusted with…well, something. But what should she do? She was torn between the need to rush in and save her niece from the mystery man making monkey pancakes and the desire to get clean and dressed.

She decided to put on her robe and worry about a shower
after
she’d checked on the girl. Moments later, she returned to the kitchen to see her dream man—Nick, Gracie had called him—and her niece, eating pancakes at the table.

“Good morning,” he purred, getting to his feet and leaning to kiss her cheek; his scruffy stubble scraped her skin and the warmth of his lips made her face tingle. She shivered as goose bumps patterned her skin and little zings of—
desire?
—raced through her body. She touched her palm to her cheek and stared up into his blue-ice eyes.

“Oh my God.”

Gracie hopped out of her chair, raced to her, wrapped her arms around her waist and pressed her cheek to Callie’s belly, distracting her from the sex god standing by her kitchen table.

“Hi, Auntie Callie. Nick said he’s helping us put up our tree today. He said he’s really good at it.” The little girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Callie hadn’t seen such joy on her niece’s face since before her parents died. She looked up at Nick. He raised his eyebrows— reddish-brown like his scruff.

“It’s true. I am.”

She swallowed. “I need to talk to you a minute. Could you come with me?”

“I already did.” He winked.

It should have annoyed her because it was so inappropriate and cheeky, but all she could do was flush and shiver with recollection and desire. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the living room, where she noticed unmistakably sooty footprints on her beige carpet. “Okay, who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“My name is Nick Kringle, and I’m here because you wished me to be,” he said. “Because this year,
I’m
Santa Claus.”

Callie shook her head. Had she heard him correctly? Was she still dreaming?

Was she insane? Had she finally snapped? Or was he some psychopath with a Claus complex? “S-S-Santa?”

“You saw my hat, didn’t you? My boots? The way I came down the chimney?”

She looked at the boot prints on the carpet. “Yes, but…”

“Remember? You wished for me.” He shrugged, as if that explained everything. “And here I am.”

But it didn’t make sense. Santa was a myth. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Nick looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. Then he turned and walked to the fireplace, laid his finger to the side of his nose and nodded.

Up the chimney he rose. There was a bang, a crash and a curse; soot poofed from the grate in a great cloud that made Callie cough. But Nick was gone.

A split second later, he reappeared, walking out of the kitchen as if he’d never vanished up the chimney. His reddish-blond mane was streaked with sticky black creosote, and there was ash smudged on his high cheekbones. He looked like a Viking after the funeral of a friend.

“I hate that. Going up a chimney feels like being sucked through a straw.” He shuddered. “But do you believe in me, now?”

She couldn’t. She didn’t. “I’ve gone crazy.”

Nick stepped closer, reached out and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “No, darling. You haven’t. You and I…we’re meant to be. I know it. The Fates know it. That’s why you wished for me.”

He dropped his mouth to hers.

Chapter Five

His tongue tangled with hers as their mouths meshed; Callie felt the jolt of their kiss to her toes. She pressed her body against his. Between them, his erection rose, hard and insistent. He slipped his hands into the opening of her robe, spreading it wide to squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples. Santa or not—
crazy
or not—this man was meant to be hers. There was no other explanation for the completion she felt.

Callie O’Brien was whole.

“When are we going to get our tree?” Gracie asked from the kitchen doorway. “When you guys are done kissing, can we go?”

Nick broke their kiss but held her close, looking down at her with twinkling eyes and a grin; she could feel him tying her robe closed out of the girl’s line of sight. “I think, Gracie, that your aunt and I need to take showers first.”

“Okay.” The little girl came into the room and sat on the couch. She lifted her chin to peer over the coffee table at the boot prints on the carpet. Then she turned her attention to the soot all over Nick.

Callie held her breath, suddenly realizing what she was doing in front of the child. What kind of role model was she, practically naked with a man she’d only just met, in their living room? What was she supposed to tell her niece about this man—this stranger—who appeared in her bed, then went to their kitchen and made pancakes? What kind of message was she sending to Gracie? Her heart sank
. If my sister’s watching me from Heaven, I know she’s ready to kill me. I would be. I’m the worst guardian—the worst parent—in the world.

“Here now. None of that.” Nick chucked her under the chin. “It’s the Christmas season, Callie O’Brien, the time of year when wishes can come true. I just happen to be your Christmas wish.”

Gracie’s china blue eyes widened; she jumped to her feet. “You! You’re
him
!” She pointed an accusing finger at Nick. “You’re Santa! You are real!
That’s
how you made the pancakes look like animals. You
did
use magic.”

He nodded. “Finally! You believe in me, now?”

The little girl burst into tears. Callie moved around the coffee table to gather the girl in her arms and hold her tightly. Grace trembled in her grasp. She pulled away from Callie to confront Nick. “Then why didn’t you bring me what I wanted? Why didn’t you bring my mommy and daddy back? Why can’t you make Katie better? I don’t want her to die too!”

Nick sighed. His broad shoulders drooped. “Gracie…there are some things even Santa can’t do.”

“You said! You said that at Christmastime, wishes can come true!” Gracie wailed. “See? You’re a liar! You’re not real! You’re not!”

He moved to sit down on the coffee table next to the sobbing child; his entire body appeared to be clenched with pain. Under the dark soot, his skin was pale and his beautiful sculpted lips were pressed together so tightly, they were nothing but bloodless lines. He winced as he touched Gracie’s shoulder; tears filled his eyes and spilled down his face, leaving shiny white streaks in the black ash. “Gracie,” he rasped. Nick cleared his throat. Callie could see it working as he swallowed. “I’m not a liar. I never lie. I just—there just are things that can’t be undone. They have to be the way they are.”

“Why?” She stamped her foot. Callie tensed, wondering which of them the girl was going to kick this time. Still in her arms, Gracie’s trembling turned to hard shaking.

“Your parents’ time here was over. They needed to go to the other side. They did what they were supposed to here, and now they’re fulfilling other obligations in Heaven, for God.”

“God’s not real, either,” Gracie raged. “And if he is, why does he have to take Katie too? Why does Katie have to die? It’s not fair! I hate him. I hate you!”

Callie drew in a swift breath. This couldn’t be allowed to go on. But Nick met her gaze with his own and held up his hand to her.
Wait.
He cleared his throat again.

“There might…it’s possible there’s something I can do. But—I’m not making any promises. Because I’m not sure…I have to check.” He turned his full attention on Callie. “I’ll try—I’ll try to come back. Tonight. If I can. I’m not…” Nick stood and held his hand out to her. She let go of Gracie to grasp his hand, and he lifted her up to pull her against him in an awkward embrace, the child between them. “Callie O’Brien, I know we just met. But you’re my destiny, and I know I’m yours. Even if I don’t come back, please remember—I love you, and I always will.”

“But Nick—where…where are you going?” She held on tightly, not sure of anything except that her heart was shattering in pieces— and his was too. She felt bereft, lost.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered.

“I do. I love you. I don’t know why or how, but I love you. But, why—”

Nick kissed her as if the world was about to end, with an intensity she’d never felt from anyone before. When he pulled away, his lips swollen, he said, “I can’t bring Gracie’s parents back. But there is something I can do for her, and for you—and for Katie.” He swallowed again and touched her cheek with his fingertips. “I’m going to trade my life for Katie’s life.”

“Nick—wait!” Before Callie could stop him, he disappeared from her grasp.