Santa's Pet (10 page)

“What about the trespassing and loitering?” The iron-skirt marched forward and jutted herself against the policeman. “You caught them sleeping together in the truck all night.”

“The truck wouldn’t start.” The officer turned abruptly and waddled to his squad car.

The woman threw her hands up, whining, “This is the problem with society. Irresponsibility.”

She glared at both of them and stomped toward the hospital, her thick heels thudding on the concrete, as the police cruiser and the remaining crowd dispersed.

“You know that woman?” Brittney asked Ben.

“Not a clue who she is.” He pulled her close to him and whispered, “You sure you didn’t hit that switch on purpose?”

“I was trying to leave last night, wasn’t I?”

“You also wanted to kiss me.” He felt her stiffen and try to push away, but she stood no chance against his biceps. Besides, she really didn’t want to leave, not with the way she was blushing and biting that sweet lip of hers. “Face it, Brittney, you’re attracted to me.”

“I admit nothing. You oaf. I never wanted to feel your muscles. I was just testing you. I didn’t mean it at all.”

Her mumbling only made him want her more. Ever since she suggested she’d like to kiss him, he’d been fantasizing about it. Her jealousy over his sister Susanna meant she was attracted to him. And somehow, she’d ended up snuggled in his arms which felt damn good, even if the police had given him a rude awakening.

He pressed a thumb gently to that tantalizing lower lip. “Will you let me kiss you?”

“What about Susanna?”

“My sister, stepsister.”

“Oh.” Her breath of relief gave him the answer he needed.

He bent over her and drew her lower lip between his, kissing her as if he’d never kissed a woman before—full of awe and wonder at the symphony playing in his head and the soft, glowing warmth expanding in his heart.

Her tongue slid over and around his and as he angled his head, she moaned and grasped the nape of his neck, pulling him so close he could barely breathe.

He almost wanted to laugh, or cry, or jump up and pound his chest, because he’d sworn this would never happen. That he’d never love anyone more than he loved his mother and newborn sister. That no woman would touch him where it’d hurt.

But he kept kissing her, deepening his doom and lost in her tiny mews and sighs, their mouths mating in desperate passion, want, and need, and more.

Except he couldn’t utter that word. No. Not yet. Not until he was sure. Besides, he’d rather keep kissing her than talk. And so he did.

~ Brittney ~

My heart bounces as excited as a lop-eared bunny let out of a cage into a meadow of tall grass. Ben’s wicked mouth is doing all sorts of tricks on me, and I love it.

I can’t believe I’m all over him. My hands run up and down the muscles over his shoulders and back, and I’m pressed against his rock hard body.

His mouth is strong and there’s a bite to his kisses, as he hisses and sucks on my lips, melting me with his strength and power. Oh, and did I mention beard stubble turns me on? Waves of excitement cause me to tremble, to gasp, and to taste and hold as much of him as I can. But no, I don’t want to be a dork and let him think I’ve never kissed a guy before.

End it. End it first so he doesn’t think I’m some starved, deprived, desert-island thirsty nun. Just one more smack. Gosh, he’s so freaking sexy, and those muscles, and large hands. Why isn’t he moving them to my boob tubes?

I rub my chest against him and go higher on tip toes, as if that were possible. I’m a fairly tall lass at five-foot-ten, but I’m nothing compared to his six-foot-five. Eek, my neck’s getting a crick. I must back off to be cool.

Instead, I latch onto him with both hands and hop.

Instinctively, he lifts me with his hands on my behind, and my legs wrap around his waist. Much better. The angle is perfect and goodbye, neck crick.

I settle in with a deep roll of my tongue and wag my head for better access, while breathing through my nose to prolong contact.

“Mommy, mommy,” a child’s voice pipes. “Is that woman giving mouth-to-mouth re-suck-a-tay-tion?”

Ben’s mouth pops back so fast, my mouth makes a puckering sound and I feel as lost as a baby without her pacifier.

“Not you two again,” the police officer who helped Ben start his truck says. “This here garage is supposed to be family friendly. Care to surrender or shall I take you down to the precinct?”

“Why are you picking on us?” I glare at the officer. “Aren’t there any real criminals for you to arrest?”

“Not around here.” He puts his hands on his hips. “You two are it.”

“Tell me what’s indecent about a kiss?”

The policeman steps back and looks me up and down. “Your legs are wrapped around the gentleman’s waist.”

“Oh.” I slide down as Ben lowers me to the ground.

Several teenagers hang around giggling and staring at their camera phones. Great. Don’t tell me they’re posting to social media. I don’t look exactly flattering right now with messy hair, an oversized Shopahol T-shirt and zero makeup.

“We’ll add this to your lewd misconduct charges.” The officer grins. “Those kids are texting the evidence to the police station.”

“Officer,” Ben says. “Aren’t you being harsh on us? After all, if I were to be the Santa Claus at the Police Dog Toy Drive and this sweet, nice young lady were to be the helper elf, and my dog, Treat, that sweet old hound who likes you so much, is going to be the mascot, wouldn’t you want us to have clean records?”

The policeman screws his beefy face and rolls his eyes, scratching his head as if confronted by an algebra word problem.

“Where’s your partner?” I ask to tighten the thumbscrews. “We all know how much he likes to manhandle me.”

“Oh, Bill?” the officer clarifies, as if the police station had more than two cops. “I put him on parking duty.”

“So, what’s the deal, officer?” Ben puts his arm around my shoulder. “Drop the charges and we’ll put on a Toy Drive you won’t forget, or deal with my lawyer, Delaine DeMarie, for wrongful arrest.”

“Duh-Duh-De-laine ‘the D-death Star’ De-de-Mar-rie???” the policeman stutters, his face turning an unhealthy shade of gray.

“The one and only.” Ben smirks. “She’s probably making a motion to release your partner’s body-cam footage.”

“Wait, you two made incriminating statements while being arrested.”

“Not really. We talked about helping each other cover up our wardrobe malfunctions.”

“Yes, and we had absolutely no intention of arousing or gratifying anyone sexually,” I repeat the criteria for criminal charges.

“Except you did offend that parent who complained yesterday,” the officer argues. His eyes dart around as if he’s looking for backup. Whoever that woman is, she must have something against Ben.

“No intention. Period,” I repeat.

“That’s right. None,” Ben agrees.

The policeman puffs out his chest and crosses his arms. “Oh yeah? Explain the tongue hockey. Sure looked hot and heavy from where I’m standing.”

The teenage boys hang out their tongues and pant.

“Shall I arrest these two for lewd conduct?” The police officer turns to the mostly adolescent crowd, most of them holding skateboards to play at the skate park conveniently located next to the emergency room.

“Or, shall I sign autographs?” Ben turns on the charm, grinning and flexing his muscles. “I’m Ben Powers, middle linebacker for the UC Sacramento Goldrushers.”

“You’re Ben Powers?”

“My sister loves you.”

“Cool, dude. Scratch my board.” A lanky youth turns his skateboard upside down and hands Ben a pocketknife.

“Looks like you’ve been outvoted.” I wag my finger at the hapless cop. “My lawyer, Owen Williams, will also have a few words with your commissioner.”

“O-oh-w-wen ‘Wildcat’ Wuh-williams?”

“Yep. A shark in a koala bear’s skin.”

The officer clears his throat and replaces his dark glasses. He hooks his thumbs through his belt loops and pulls his pants up, then glares at the idling truck. “I could write you up for greenhouse gas emissions if you don’t shut down that truck.”

“Sure, shutting it down right now.” I reach into the cab and turn off the truck.

Ben’s cell phone is buzzing and vibrating. It’s a text message from the hospital.

Mr. Powers. Come quick. Your grandfather’s had a setback. ICU nurse.

“Ben!” I pick up the phone and wave it. “The ICU texted us. Grandpa had a setback.”

Ben grabs my hand and we part the crowd, then sprint for the hospital.

Please, please, please, dear God, put Santa Grandpa back in one piece again. It’s almost Christmas.

~ Ben ~

“Grandpa.” Ben spoke softly and approached his grandfather’s bedside. The old man looked so unlike his usual hearty self. He had tubes coming out of his nose, mouth, and arms, and his eyes were closed.

Brittney stood at his side, but didn’t speak. He’d told the nurse she was his granddaughter.

“He was doing okay before his blood pressure dropped,” the nurse said as she adjusted his pillow. “They gave him some medicine to stabilize the pressure.”

The old man struggled to open his eyes. His skin was oily, stretched across his forehead, and tape covered his face to hold the tubes in place. His beard had been completely shaved off so that the tape could stick. Poor Grandpa.

“Shhh …” Ben sat at the bedside and patted his grandfather’s shoulder. “It’s me, Ben. You’re going to be okay.”

His grandfather couldn’t reply since he had a light blue ventilator tube threaded through his mouth. His eyes were bleary and his cheeks were pale, but he raised his hand and Ben clasped it, surprised at how cold he was.

“Five minutes,” the nurse said as she stepped to the door. “He’s on a lot of medication and the doctors need to check his cardiac function and run tests.”

Brittney moved closer and caught his grandfather’s eye. Instead of an indulgent twinkle, his grandfather narrowed his eyes and grunted. His body tensed, and he tried to sit up.

Raising his hand, he pointed at her sharply. The machines around him beeped louder and faster, and alarms buzzed all around them.

“Grandpa, calm down,” Ben said. “Brittney’s with me.”

Instead of relaxing, Grandpa jerked his head back and forth and squeezed his lips around the ventilator tube. His stony eyes glared at Brittney, hard as volcanic glass, and he all but sneered.

“It’s a misunderstanding. Brittney and I are good friends now,” Ben explained. “She’s sorry for what she did. It wasn’t her idea.”

Not at all pleased, Grandpa thrashed in the bed and grabbed the ventilator tube.

“No, you can’t do that.” Ben wrestled his grandfather’s hand from the tube. “Stay calm. Please. You’re very ill.”

Grandpa whipped his head toward Brittney and stared at her, as if willing her to leave.

“I’m sorry. I truly am.” She backed away as the doctors and nurses rushed into the room.

“You both have to leave,” the nurse said to Ben. “I’ll text you if there’s any change.”

His head whirling and his heart pounding, Ben hustled with Brittney out of the room.

“I’m so sorry. I think he hates me,” Brittney said, her eyes pooling with tears.

“He’s just come out of surgery. He’s probably confused.” Ben put his hand on the small of her back and guided her down the corridor. “There’s nothing we can do here.”

“I hope he’ll be okay.” She turned into his arms and hugged him. “I can’t bear it if all this happened because of me and my lawyer’s threats.”

“It’s not your fault. Look what my lawyer’s doing to you.” Ben clutched her by the shoulders to get her to understand they were in this together. “My grandfather holds grudges and has trouble forgiving. He hasn’t spoken to my father for years.”

“I thought he liked me. I was always his little Angel Face. I thought of him as my third grandpa.” She wiped her eyes with her fingers.

“He’s protective of his own.”

“But he thought of me as his own.” She broke down in sobs. “Me and Lacy were his little pets. I was the good one and she was the bad one.”

Ben held her tightly. “He’ll get over it. He hates betrayal and he thinks you betrayed him when your lawyer attacked me. It’s the same with my dad. When he remarried so quickly, it was as if he stabbed Grandpa in the back. He always made no secret that he loved my mother better than his own children. It got so awkward that sometimes, my mother purposely stayed away when Dad brought us to visit our grandparents.”

“After all these years, he still can’t forgive your father?”

“Yes, them old goats can be pretty stubborn.” Ben kissed the top of her head.

“I can’t bear it if he hates me.”

Ben’s throat dried and his breath caught. He didn’t want it to be true, but his Grandpa could hold a grudge longer than a windbag reading an obituary.

Stroking her hair, he mumbled, “I’ll never hate you. I promise.”

~ Brittney ~

When I started my online scrapbooking company to share pet pictures, I never dreamed it would turn into a viral success in the shopping referral business.

I only meant to have a place to collect and share pictures of Lyndora, my black and brown calico lop-eared bunny, who I had to give away once I found out I was severely allergic to her. With all the online sharing sites, I had no idea mine would become the one Shopahol would use to spread their holy grail of friends following and influencing shopping habits, along with deals and referral points.

Now, I have a reputation to protect if I want to have a successful stock offering next year. I didn’t need those kids texting pictures of me with my legs wrapped around Ben and my tongue down his throat.

After getting kicked out of Grandpa Powers’ room, I called Lacy using Ben’s phone and she came right away, driving my Toyota since I took her Mustang to work last night.

I’m glad she’s driving, because I can barely stay awake, even with all of the anxiety churning in my bloodstream. She’s a good sister, and she truly doesn’t mind driving me or that I took her Mustang. She’s always urging me to borrow it, to let the top down, to stop being the boring nerd I am.

I stare out the window as the Golden Gate Bridge comes into view. I never get tired of the sweeping beauty of the bridge. Two giant towers hold up the entire span—the longest in the world at the time it was built. It is an engineering marvel, light enough to hang from its own cables, while enduring the strong winds buffeting the strait as well as holding up during the frequent San Francisco earthquakes.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Lacy says as we merge onto the span. The tires thump at regular intervals over each expansion joint like the uneven galloping of my heart. Because it’s Sunday, there’s hardly any traffic, so we’re making good time.

“Just tired. Too much going on. I feel like a zombie.”

“I’m sorry about what Grandpa Powers did.” Lacy reaches across and pats my arm. “He’s probably under a lot of medication. Woozy and doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“He seemed pretty sharp to me. He was definitely staring at me like I’m his worst enemy, even though Ben explained we’re both calling off our lawyers.”

“Really? Has he done it yet? You might not have seen the news this morning.”

“We haven’t had time to contact our lawyers yet.” I stifle a yawn. “He said he was angry and didn’t object when his lawyer decided to throw me under the bus. He didn’t realize how horrid everyone would react on social media.”

“Oh … Maybe you shouldn’t call off Owen either.”

“Why?” I’m fully awake now. “What happened?”

“They’re countersuing you for sexual harassment. They claim you had the superior position since our family owns the tree farm, so technically, Ben was under your supervision.”

“I don’t believe Ben knows about this. He’s too busy worrying about his grandfather’s health. His blood pressure dropped—not a good thing after having open heart surgery.”

“Ben may have a lot on his mind, but he needs to stop his lawyer. Anyway, I took a call for you from Owen since he couldn’t get ahold of you on your cell phone.”

I press both hands over my face and rub my tired eyes. “What did he have to say?”

“You’re not helping your cause by hanging out with Ben. Public opinion is on his side. He’s a football hero and a man. You don’t want to know what they’re saying about you.”

“Can we not talk about this?” I cradle my head against the window.

“You won’t be able to avoid it. So, why are you hanging around with Ben? And what’s with kissing in public? Don’t you have enough trouble?”

I’m counting the miles until I reach my work. We’re halfway across the span, but we still have to go through most of the city before getting to my office, located near blocks of warehouses and recycling facilities in San Francisco south of Cesar Chavez Blvd.

Lacy’s never one to be ignored. “What did I tell you about letting a guy kiss you without being on a date?”

“Wait a minute.” I shove my hand on my hip and curl my lip. “You of the Mistletoe Madness Kissing Booth are telling me about waiting for a date before kissing a guy?”

“Those aren’t kisses that mean anything.” Lacy rolls her eyes.

Honk! A car’s horn angrily blares at her because she shifted halfway into the next lane.

“Maybe our kiss meant nothing, too.”

“How many guys have you kissed in your lifetime?” She waggles a finger at me.

“More than you think.” I’m not about to admit my limited experience, at least not out loud. My sister already knows I prefer spending my evenings and weekends writing software and hanging out on the internet.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get involved with a guy like Ben. He’s too much to handle.”

“You mean out of my league.”

“I didn’t say that.” She glances over again, but I point at the road.

“That’s exactly what you mean.”

She huffs and shakes her head. “You’re my baby sister. I don’t want you to get hurt. Guys like Ben don’t date.”

“So? I don’t date either.” Irritation crawls all over my skin at her assumptions.

“Not in the same manner. You don’t date because you’re busy working. He doesn’t date because he doesn’t have to. He gets free hookups all the time. He never has to take a woman out to get sex. He doesn’t even have to know her name. I bet he has a collection of selfies to choose from every evening.”

“And you know this how?”

“It’s the way everyone your age is. They don’t do boyfriends and girlfriends. Especially athletes. No time for a girlfriend. His main objective is to get drafted by a pro team.”

“I’ve no time for boyfriends either. I have to prepare for my stock offering.”

“Yes, but you don’t have sex either.”

My shoulders slump and I close my eyes. In other words, I’m pathetic and boring.

“What would you say if I were having sex?”

“With what? Your bunny ears?” She snorts and my skin crawls at the thought she thinks the only sex I get is from a vibrator.

“That’s you, Lacy. You’re into all that kink. I just hook up. There’s an app on my phone and when I feel like having sex, I tap into it and voila, it’s as easy as using that app to find a ride. Post when you’re willing to hook up and the app locates those who’re within fifteen miles available in the next hour. You check out the profiles and accept an offer.”

“You’d better be lying.”

“Not at all. It’s a new direction ScrapCloud’s taking.” I’m making this up on the fly. “It matches your interests based on your scrapbooks, shopping history, and mutual friends and followers.”

Lacy doesn’t say a word. The awkward silence drags until we reach my company’s parking lot.

“Thanks for driving me.” The least I can do is acknowledge her.

“Sure.” She blows an impatient breath, the one that tells me I wouldn’t understand and there’s no reason for her to explain.

Frankly, I’m sick of it. Her and her superior attitude. We all know she’s always been popular with boys whereas I never have been.

That’s about to change. If I’m tarred and feathered across social media as a slut or a sex addict, I might as well live it up.

The scorching kiss I shared with Ben shows he
is
interested in me—whether for a hookup or more, it doesn’t matter. Lacy’s right. Ben’s only here for the holidays. But if I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter, maybe I can enjoy his company for however long I can, and put that over my sister.

I take the keys from Lacy and step from my car. She’s already walking towards hers without asking me for the keys. Guess she has her spare set.

Her reddish-brown hair glints in the morning light now that the fog has burned off. And even though she’s pregnant, she still struts as if she’s a model on a runway, swaying as if every man’s eyes were on her.

“Hey,” I yell.

“Yes? You need anything?” She stops before her car.

“Have you ever slept with a football player? Have you ever had two-hundred-fifty pounds of solid muscle hold you down? How about standing up? His strong arms pumping you up and down?”

“What’s gotten into you?” Her brows wrinkle and her nose scrunches as if she smells a bad odor. “I’m a married woman.”

“In other words, no. You’ve never slept with a football player.” I can’t help my voice from jeering.

“What’s your point?”

“Ben Powers is not too hot to handle.”

“Be careful you don’t get hurt.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t. I’ll only be having the best sex of my life.”

Lacy shakes her head and turns away, unlocking her car.

Ha, ha. So much for the superior sister act. She can’t take seeing me with Ben because she’s never had a football player before.

I wave my badge in front of the reader, but the door opens before I have a chance to grab the handle.

A gray-suited woman stops in front of me and stabs her finger at me. “You!”

It’s the parent who complained about us to the police.

My jaw drops and I point back at her. “What are you doing here? In my office?”

She snarls, showing sharp, pointy teeth. Her dark brown hair is cut short and efficient and her gray power suit resembles armor. “Guess Jewell didn’t tell you, did he? I’m Marlena Morley, VP of Marketing for Shopahol. You better make sure Monkey-See is offline or face a class action lawsuit.”

~ Ben ~

Ben knocked on the door of Bob Reed, his grandfather’s best buddy and Brittney’s grandfather. The retirement community the elderly Reeds lived in consisted of separate bungalow units around a parklike common area. Ben had been trying to talk Grandpa into moving into assisted living, where he’d have access to a cafeteria and 24/7 nursing help, but so far, he’d resisted leaving his drafty farmhouse.

Cece Reed, Brittney’s grandmother, opened the door. She was dressed in workout clothes and looked like she’d just gotten back from Zumba or whatever it was ladies did to stay trim. The community offered recreational and fitness programs, another reason for Grandpa to get out of his isolated living conditions.

“Woof!” Treat stood between Cece’s legs and raised his head for a pat. Behind her, a flutter of large wings greeted him, and the cockatoo who’d tormented him at the tree farm landed on Cece’s shoulder.

“Come in, come in,” Brittney’s grandmother said. “We’re taking care of your grandpa’s pets, as you can see.”

“Thanks for doing that.” Ben bent down and picked up Treat, who wiggled in his arms and slobbered over his jaw with a big, wet tongue.

“Please, have breakfast with us.” Cece led the way to the kitchen.

Bob set the newspaper down and rose from his chair at the kitchen table. “Let me pour you a cup of coffee. You must be dead tired. Is Jon out of surgery?”

“Thanks.” Ben put the dog down and accepted a mug of steamy coffee. “Grandpa’s out of surgery, but he’s had a setback. His blood pressure is lower than they’d like it to be, so they’re checking him for internal bleeding. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“We’ll keep praying for him.” Cece set out a cereal bowl and an assortment of granolas. “Sit, please. We appreciate you coming to tell us. Is there anything we can do for him? I’ll go by and check his mail later. We watered his plants, and as you can see …” She removed the cockatoo from her shoulder and set him on the table. “We’re keeping this big fella company.”

“Arck, arck.” The cockatoo stalked toward Ben. His wings were partially spread and he made a hissing sound as he snorted.

“Keep that bird away from me.” Ben backed away from the table. “Actually, I came to ask you two for advice.”

“Sure, we’re all ears.” Bob poured himself another cup of coffee.

“Yep, that’s what we’re here for,” Cece said. “Pappy here’s real sorry for turning against your family, but seriously, if you ever have a granddaughter or a daughter and you read what everyone’s saying about her, you’d be incensed too.”

“I already told Brittney I’m sorry. I left my lawyer a message last night telling her to stop spreading rumors and lies.” Ben held both of their stares, knowing he wasn’t their favorite person right now.

“Harrumph,” Bob cleared his throat and the cockatoo mimicked him with a louder squawky “haaarrumph.”

Treat joined into the throat clearing with a deep “haaarroo.”

“Am I missing something?” Ben spread his hands on the table. “I’m truly sorry what happened with the slut-shaming going on.”

“If you are, why is your lawyer countersuing Brittney for sexual harassment?” Cece grabbed her tablet and pointed to a message.

“She is?” Ben craned his neck and read the post. “I told her to stop the trash talk.”

“So she decided to lob a lawsuit instead.” Bob’s face reddened. “Call it off, Ben. There are better ways to get off on the charges than to drag my granddaughter’s reputation through the gutter.”

“I’m trying.” Ben pushed from the table. “I came to ask your help, but it looks like you’re all dead set against me. I really care about Brittney.”

“You do? In what way?” Bob glanced at Cece who wrung her hands.

“I want to help her get out of this mess.” Ben idly patted Treat who rested his head on his thigh, whining for a treat. “And I want our families to get along.”

“We would have, if it hadn’t been for all the slander against her,” Cece said. “So, am I guessing you have feelings for Brittney? Is that why you’re here?”

Ben could feel his cheeks heat. As usual, he’d given away his position. Grandpa had always said there were people who were better at reading people than he was. Just because he couldn’t figure things out, didn’t mean others, especially women, didn’t have a radar where it came to feelings and emotions.

“I’m not here to talk about feelings.” Ben’s tongue stumbled over itself. “It’s Grandpa. I spoke to the doctor and he’ll have a long rehab period. I don’t think he should live on the farmhouse by himself, and I was wondering if you two could talk him into moving here.”

“He’ll never do it,” Bob said. “They don’t allow pets here.”

The cockatoo’s crest rose and he lunged toward the granola box, mumbling bird gibberish in a complaining old man’s voice.