Santa's Pet (4 page)

“I know.” He gritted his teeth as he struggled with his too tight jacket.

She leaned into his chest and whispered, “Do you want me to adjust anything?”

“Nothing, just let me get this jacket off, then you move back while I cover myself.”

Her eyebrows wiggled as she helped him take off the red jacket. “You sure your jacket’s big enough?”

“Ready?”

“Wow.” Her mouth gaped as her eyes greedily took in his chest, and she squirmed over his growing erection.

“Stop doing that.” He was packing some serious wood, and she knew it.

“There they are,” a shrill female voice yelled. “Indecent exposure and public sex. Arrest them.”

~ Brittney ~

Two burly policemen grab me and Ben, separating us. Fortunately, their arrival has shrunk Ben’s male parts, and he’s no longer as indecent as before. There’s still the candy cane boxers on display, and I’m caught red-handed with his Santa jacket around my wrists.

“Officer, this isn’t what it looks like,” I explain. “I was helping Santa cover up, because his pants got snagged in the Christmas tree.”

“Save it for the judge,” the policeman who has a hold on me growls. “Should I cuff you, or are you going to come peacefully?”

Meanwhile, his partner already has Ben on his feet and cuffed. His pants are still down around his boots and caught on the fallen Christmas tree.

The officer grabs the pants and rips it from the toppled tree, then tries to pull them up for Ben.

“I told you they’re too loose,” Ben says. “That’s why they fell. It was an accident.”

“Sure, it was. That’s what they all say.” The officer sneers. He hitches the belt tightly around Ben. “I have plenty of witnesses who saw the breast bobble, too.”

“That was my fault.” Ben jerks his chin at me. “Let her go. She had nothing to do with this.”

Both of the big men rake their eyes over me and snicker.

“I don’t blame you, big guy,” the officer holding on to Ben says. “Next time, find a smaller elf—cup size A would do.”

The policeman holding me says, “Her outfit’s so tight, she’s packing double J into an A.”

Sheesh, since when are police officers so knowledgeable about bra sizes?

“Please, Officer, we can explain.” I wring my hands, scanning the crowd for my parents. “My sister’s pregnant and this is her elf costume. I’m only substituting for her.”

“And I’m substituting for my grandfather,” Ben cuts in. “That’s why the waist is too big for these pants to stay up.”

“Substitute or not, we’ve had complaints. Come on, let’s go.”

The gawking crowd parts for us, as Ben and I walk from the barn to the police cruiser.

“Waaahrroooh!” Ben’s dog waddles behind us, howling and drawing even more attention.

I’m aware of the giggles and the tittering, as well as the row of cameras recording our long walk of shame.

Mom and Dad rush toward us.

“That’s my daughter,” my father says. “Why are you arresting her?”

“Indecent exposure and public lewdness,” the cop replies.

“That’s impossible. Brittney’s a straight-A student, a CEO of her own company,” my father argues. “She can’t help it if she’s well-developed.”

“Brittney’s a good girl,” my mother says. “She’s never gotten in trouble before.”

“Save your breath,” the policeman says. “We had to respond to the multiple complaints.”

As I approach the cruiser, I spy that bitch in the business suit with her arms crossed and a satisfied smirk on her face. Who is she and what does she have against me?

~ Ben ~

“Spread your arms and legs against the car,” the policeman ordered Ben and pushed him to the squad car.

“Stop touching me,” Brittney said, jerking her arm and dragging her heels. “I demand a woman officer.”

“Are you resisting arrest?” the policeman, who had his paws all over Brittney, drawled.

“What you’re doing is more indecent than anything Ben pulled,” she snapped at him.

Ben was forced to bend down with his bare chest over the hood of the car while the policeman made a cursory examination of his loose Santa pants before pulling off the too tight boots to look for knives.

“Anyone can see I have nothing under this outfit,” Brittney complained.

“Oh, we can see that all right,” the officer said, leering.

After the rude frisking, the officer with Ben shoved him into the cramped backseat of the squad car. Ben’s knees hit the front panel and he had to hunch his head forward.

“You too, get in,” the officer with Brittney said. “And put on your friend’s seatbelt for him.”

“Don’t I have a right to keep my hands to myself?” Brittney pulled out her shoulder belt and strapped herself in. “I’m not an idiot. This is entrapment, making me touch him so you can use it against me in the court of law.”

“You have the right to remain silent,” the policeman retorted. “You want me to cuff you, too?”

“Let it go, Bill,” the officer who arrested Ben said. He calmly applied the safety belt. “Let’s get them to the station and book them.”

“Book us? I demand a lawyer,” Brittney shouted across Ben to the more reasonable policeman. “I didn’t do anything indecent. I was covering him up. If it hadn’t been for his big boner, no one would have seen a thing.”

“Excuse me?” Ben turned on Brittney. “I helped you when your wardrobe malfunctioned. I didn’t have to push your boobs back into that teeny-tiny tube, except you asked me to do it.”

“No one told your dog to get fresh with me.”

“He wasn’t getting fresh. He was uncomfortable. A basset hound has a weak back and you weren’t supporting him right.”

“Fine, but we weren’t arrested for my ponies popping out. It was you, pulling me onto your candy-cane boxers.” Brittney waved at the officer and pointed to herself. “I’m a victim here. He made me sit on him because he couldn’t pull up his pants fast enough.”

There was no way he was going to let her palm this day’s disasters on him.

“I didn’t make you sit on me,” Ben shouted back. “I asked you to help me because I helped you, and you were the one who decided to wiggle around on my beef stick.”

“I wasn’t wiggling. I was trying to accommodate your size and not let anyone see anything.”

“If you’d disrobed me faster, you could have covered me with my Santa suit instead.”

“Sure, put the blame on me, men like you always do.” Brittney crossed her arms and stomped her boots.

“Excuse me? I was dressed decently. Who told you to dress like a stripper elf in the first place?”

“My sister said sex sells, idiot. We were supposed to raise more money than her stupid kissing booth, but because you couldn’t keep a big bird in your lap, we probably lost.”

“We lost because me and every pair of male gonads in the barn couldn’t keep their eyes off you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brittney sneered. “I can wear whatever I want. Doesn’t mean you have to look.”

“How can any man not look at those beachballs?” Ben turned to the officer. “I’m going crazy back here. Let her go. She obviously didn’t do anything wrong.”

The two officers laughed.

One winked and said, “You two are a hoot. We’re wearing body cams and this is the funniest arrest ever. And no, we’re not letting her go until we review all the evidence.”

“What evidence?” Ben and Brittney yelped at the same time.

“All the videos and pictures that are being submitted to our website, not to mention all the publicity this has generated for our Police Dog Toy Drive.”

“Police Dog Toy Drive?” Ben blubbered.

The officer picked up Treat. “This here dog just volunteered to be the poster dog. Didn’t you, buddy?”

Traitor Treat. He licked the officer’s hairy face. Gross.

“Oh no, here come the reporters,” Brittney said as a line of news vans descended on the tree farm. “Can you guys get us out of here? On the double?”

“Sure thing,” the policeman dumped Treat in the already crowded backseat, slammed the doors and pulled a stunt donut before screeching out of the parking lot.

~ Brittney ~

“They took my mug shot, fingerprinted me and booked me all without giving me a rag to cover myself. If I were really indecent, don’t you think they should have thrown me an orange jumpsuit?” I grab the oversized Shopahol t-shirt from my sister as my father and mother walk me from the jailhouse. I was released under my own recognizance with a court date set for January.

“You’re lucky no one saw your genitals,” Lacy says. “They only got you on lewd conduct. Poor Ben has to pay bail, all because someone saw his Jumbo-Dumbo. You should see what they’re saying on social media.”

“Serves him right.” I shrug the t-shirt over my head. “He’s an asshole. He blamed me for the entire thing, saying I dressed like a stripper elf.”

“Men.” Lacy huffs and eyes Dad and her husband, Brandon. “Well? What are you two smirking about?”

“Nuh-nothing at all,” Dad says and rushes to the minivan.

“To be fair, you did give everyone an eyeful,” Brandon says, less wise to the ways of women—especially Reed women.

Lacy hits him with her purse. “You checked out my sister? How could you?”

“I didn’t look. I swear.” Brandon raises his arm and ducks. “I’m just saying you can’t blame Ben if he got distracted.”

“Distracted? He practically came on to me and asked me to sit on him.” Now I’m really pissed. “It’s not my fault he fell off the ladder because he was looking for me.”

That’s the story going around, spread by loudmouth Sean who again forgets that he works for me.

“Admit it, you looked at my sister. How could you?” Lacy screams at her husband, Brandon, jackhammering her purse over his head and shoulders. “I’m eight months pregnant and you’re checking out my sister.”

“I’m not checking out your sister. I didn’t notice anything.” Brandon grabs his wife’s arms. “I never look at anyone. I even kissed those women with my eyes closed.”

He’s referring to the kissing booth he and Lacy operate for charity to raise money for neurological diseases. It’s a miracle they don’t catch their share of kissing diseases.

“Tell the truth.” My sister’s never one to back down. “What do you think about Brittney’s bonbons?”

“I don’t have a thought about them. She’s your little sister, for God’s sake. Why would I ever, in a million billion years think or look at her?”

“I don’t look at you either, Brandon.” I have to retort. I can’t stand it when they act like I have no feelings. Once I make a ton of money, I can get breast reduction surgery. Sporting these twin towers isn’t any fun at all.

“So, you really don’t give her a passing thought?” Lacy coos as she rubs her big belly against Brandon.

Wait a second. Isn’t this lewd conduct? I’m offended and they know I’m watching.

“I only have eyes for you, darling.” He lowers his lips and locks them onto my sister’s ruby red lipstick-painted ones—right in the middle of the police station parking lot.

My father unlocks the doors, and I flounce into the middle row of the van. So unfair. My entire family thinks of me as a brain first and a pair of boobs second.

“Don’t listen to Lacy,” Mom says, patting my hand. She joins me in the back. “She’s pregnant and has all these hormones floating around. Just wait until after the baby’s born. She’ll get post-partum depression.”

“You mean she’ll get worse?”

“I was so depressed, I burned down our apartment building,” Mom says. “Of course, it was an accident and no one got hurt.”

“That’s why we adopted you,” Dad says. “Lacy was such a crybaby we couldn’t sleep a wink, and your mom here left the bottle in a pot of water and forgot about it.”

I’ve heard this story a million times. Lacy had colic. Lacy threw tantrums. Lacy got in trouble. Meanwhile I’m supposed to be the good one—the one who makes them proud.

Sudden tears spurt from my eyes. “I really screwed up this time. I didn’t mean to get in trouble.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dad says, grinding his teeth. “You should never have been dragged into this. I’m going to have a word with Ben. He should man up and take all the blame.”

“I was only trying to help him. It’s the truth.” I wipe my eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Dad says. “We called a criminal defense attorney—one of the best. Owen Williams. He’ll be by for dinner and can take your statement.”

“Stay off the internet,” Mom adds. “Owen says you need to tell him everything without it being tainted by watching the videos.”

“But I’m sure the videos prove I wasn’t engaged in lewd conduct.”

Mom and Dad look at each other and shake their heads.

“It’s all camera angle and interpretation,” Mom explains.

Meanwhile, Lacy is still lip-locked to her husband.

“What about them?” I lean through the opening between the two front seats and lay on the horn. “Get a room, okay?”

“They’re married,” Mom says. “Not simulating sex on the floor of a barn surrounded by impressionable children.”

“What about me? I’m impressionable.” I cross my arms and jut my lower lip. Dammit. How I wish I could stick my thumb into my mouth and sulk.

~ Ben ~

Ben sat in the holding cell with his head hunched down, hoping none of the inmates recognized him. The last thing he needed on his record was a sex crime. It would sully his spotless record and possibly blow up his pro football career. He thought back on the events and gritted his teeth. The only reason that woman in the business suit called the police was because she was jealous of Brittney. Sure, she’d been upset at Ben when her daughter and the bird fell on the floor, but he was sure he could have charmed her had Bouncing Brittney not shown up and shoved her zeppelins in front of the shriveled up peach pit.

He smacked himself on the forehead. “Why, of course, the woman lost it when Brittney dangled the dog.”

A drunk lying at his side slurred. “Dangled the dog? Is that what you’re in for?”

“No, it’s all a big misunderstanding. I’m completely innocent.”

“Sure you are.” The man’s bleary eyes focused to a point. “Say, aren’t you that big guy from Wyoming? Bamm-Bamm Powers?”

“Who’s that?” Ben shrugged. “I stopped watching the Flintstones long ago.”

The older man screwed his eyes and looked at Ben sideways. “Kid’s the number one defensive back in college football. Too bad the Goldrusher offense sucks so bad.”

“I’m not following you,” Ben said. “What Goldbuster offense?”

He deliberately mangled his college’s team name to mislead the man further.

“Ah, never mind,” the man said. “One day, when Bamm-Bamm turns pro, you can walk into any bar and have your pick of chicks.”

“Yeah, something to look forward to once I get out of this joint.” Ben turned away from the drunk and palmed his face.

That was too close. Where the heck was his agent? He’d used his single phone call to leave her a message. There was no sense getting his grandfather riled up and possibly cause another heart attack.

True, the cops had taken Grandpa’s dog, but Treat was enjoying all of the doggy treats thrown his way. Last he heard, the traitor was singing and howling to the entire station’s entertainment.

The heavy metal door swung open and a jailer said, “Mr. Powers. Your attorney’s here.”

“Powers?” the drunk slurred. “Did I hear right?”

“Bowers with a ‘B’,” Ben said as he followed the guard. Since he wasn’t deemed a danger, they left him without handcuffs. It was about time Dominque, his agent, found him a lawyer.

The guard brought him to the secured cubbyhole with a bolted down wooden table and three plastic chairs. Dominque sat there with another woman who looked like she could be her twin.

Ben waited until the guard retreated through the door before taking a seat across from the two women.

“Dominique, thanks for coming on a Saturday evening. I hope I haven’t disturbed your plans.” He nodded to her and waited for an introduction.

“I’m not pleased with this at all.” The black woman glared at him. She was one of the top sports agents in the country, and he was well aware she was counting on him getting picked in the first round and earning her big numbers on the contract.

“It’s not what it looks like. I’m sure I’ll be vindicated when the witnesses come forward.” Ben glanced at the other woman. She wore her hair short and naturally curly, while Dominique had a head full of sleek, shoulder-length braids which she tied to one side.

“My sister, Delaine DeMarie, defense attorney. You’re lucky she owes me a favor.” Dominique tilted her head at her sister. “Tell this slimeball what trouble he’s in.”

Delaine stuck her hand out for a quick shake. “Indecent exposure is a serious charge, Mr. Powers. If convicted, you will be registered as a sex offender. Couple that with lewd misconduct and the possibility that your codefendant might sue you for sexual harassment …”

“Hold it!” Ben leaned forward. “Sexual harassment of who?”

“The elf, Brittney Reed,” Delaine said. “Her attorney’s looking at that angle to get the charges of lewd misconduct dropped for her.”

“Wait, you spoke to him before talking to me?”

“I ran into him in the hallway,” Delaine replied. “It was professional courtesy for him to let me know what I’m up against.”

“Why don’t you hear me out?” Ben turned his gaze on Dominique. “If you two think I’m guilty, how will I ever get a fair trial?”

“We have no opinion whether you’re guilty or not,” Dominique said. “Of course, as your agent, I’m on your side—if your reputation is reparable. At the same time, I have standards. I will not tolerate you lying to me nor will I put up with clients who are disrespectful to women. You want to be a bad boy, get yourself a bad boy agent. There are plenty of them around.”

“I might not want a bad boy agent, but I definitely deserve a good one who believes in me.” Ben folded his hands in front of him and stared down the two women.

“Fair enough,” Dominique said. “Delaine wanted to let you know how serious the charges are, but the good news is, she can get you off if the state cannot prove intent.”

“Intent?” Ben repeated.

“Yes, intent is important in an indecent exposure case,” Delaine said. “The prosecution has to prove that you intended to gratify or arouse either yourself or another person sexually by exposing your genitals, or that you intended to offend someone else sexually.”

Ben slapped the table. “Then they don’t have a case. I didn’t intend any of it. In fact, I asked Brittney to sit on my lap to cover any possible exposure through my boxer shorts.”

“Oh, yes, those boxers are Exhibit A. I need you to remove them and let me photograph them.”

“Right now?” Ben’s blood pressure dropped. If he pulled down the sweatpants the police lent him, he could be charged again.

“Not right now.” Delaine chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Is it true you wear boxers that are so ripped they might as well not be there?”

“Uh, well, sure, I haven’t done the laundry. Yes, I guess.” Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “I figure as long as the elastic waistband is good and I can put my legs through them …”

“In that case, if it’s your usual habit to wear torn and holey boxers, then I can prove that your exposing your genitals was accidental and unintentional.”

“That’s correct,” Ben agreed. “Besides, it wouldn’t have been exposed if that woman hadn’t sat on it and wiggled to tease me.”

“She did?” Dominique’s jaw dropped. “You mean she’s at fault?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Ben opened his hands palms up. “Kids were laughing and saying my pants were down. I realized I had only my holey candy-cane boxers on, so I asked Brittney to sit on my crotch to hide it while I took off my Santa jacket to cover myself.”

“So, you’re saying she deliberately moved in a sexual manner to cause you to expose yourself?” Delaine clarified.

“Absolutely. I couldn’t help what happened next. It’s impossible for a man not to react.”

“For some men,” Delaine said, huffing. “Okay, now what about the touching of her breasts that happened earlier? The police are charging you with lewd misconduct, too.”

“How’s that defined?”

“Willfully touching a female breast counts,” Delaine said, pursing her lips. “You’re guilty if you did it with the intention of sexually arousing or gratifying yourself or another person, and at the time you did the act, you were in public or in a place open to the public, and someone was offended by viewing your act, and finally that you reasonably knew that person would be offended.”

“Everything’s true except for the intention.” Ben closed his fist. “I touched her breast to push it back into her skimpy elf costume. I have absolutely no interest in arousing or gratifying Brittney Reed, and it certainly didn't give me the jollies.”

“Oh, really?” Dominique raised an eyebrow. “What if a witness said you became aroused?”

“It doesn’t matter. My intent was not to be aroused. Is that clear?” Ben narrowed his eyes at Delaine. “Can you get both charges dropped?”

“The state has a higher hurdle for the indecent exposure. They’ll probably come back with an offer for you to plead guilty to the lewd conduct in exchange for dropping indecent exposure which carries with it the stigma of being a registered sex offender.” Delaine leaned back and steepled her fingers as if she had won a point. She turned to her sister. “Is that good enough to get him drafted?”

“I think we should also fight the lewd conduct charge, too.” Dominique’s eyebrows creased and her nostrils flared. “It’ll be bad for my reputation to represent him.”

“I’m not pleading guilty to anything,” Ben said. “If you two can’t help me, then I’m hiring someone else.”

“He
is
a hot prospect for a first round draft pick,” Delaine said, nudging her sister.

“Except for this lewd conduct thing,” Dominique replied, eyeing Ben as if he were a giant cockroach. “Can you get all the charges dropped?”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Delaine rolled up her sleeves. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll get you out on bail. You’re not pleading guilty to anything. Meanwhile, we dump the blame on Brittney. Only problem, her lawyer’s a real trickster.”

“That chubby chump with the fast food wrapper sticking out of his suit pocket?” Dominique scrunched her nose.