Page 23 of Naughty-ish

I’m proud of myself. I got out of a marriage that collapsed. I found a job after years of not being employed. I purchased this house, small as it is, and it’s mine. The kids are thriving in their new school. My parents are still alive and love me even if they occasionally disapprove of my life choices.

A second knock patters on my door and I rise, assuming only one person would be on my stoop this late.

Opening the door, Nick stands there wearing red Santa pants, complete with fluffy white cuffs around his motorcycle boots. On his upper body, he wears a black T-shirt with a set of red suspenders and a leather jacket.

“Interesting outfit,” I tease.

“I told you I had a fireman thing.” He pauses and lifts a bottle of wine. “Brought you something stronger than hot chocolate.”

In his other hand, he holds two extra-large plastic bags each with something bulky and rectangular inside.

“Come in.” Stepping back, I admire those costume-y pajama-looking pants that hug his tight backside, accentuating the fine ornamentation of his ass. Holiday elves couldn’t make a more perfect decoration.

“Where are the kids?” he asks.

“Sleeping.” It’s after ten, and my littles will rest well tonight, especially after the day we had. Eloise only had seven questions for our elf this evening, too tired to think of more to ask him.

“Your tree looks amazing.” Nick stops in the middle of my living room and admires my handiwork.

“Not bad,” I agree.

Nick twists, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Take credit, Holliday. It’s beautiful.” His eyes don’t leave my face.

“Okay,” I whisper. “It’s pretty.” With the multi-colored lights and the array of tin ornaments and glass bulbs, it really is a lovely tree. Not to mention, the scent is heavenly.

Nick smiles. “Better.”

Then, he reaches for the sacks at his feet and opens the top of one. Slowly, he pulls out a Zlot 720.

My head snaps upward, eyes meeting his, which sparkle in the dim light of my Christmas tree. I whisper in awe, “How did you find that?”

He shrugs. “I told you . . . I know a guy.”

“But earlier you asked me if I’d found one?” I question.

“Just making certain you still needed this one.” He lifts it higher.

With my hands clasped in front of my chest, every fiber of my being fights the urge to hug him. He’s a godsend. “This is a Christmas miracle.”

Nick’s responding smile nearly blinds me. White teeth surrounded by the mix of snow and ink in his beard and cheeks that appear to be blushing. He’s so attractive it almost hurts to look at him.

“Will you take a check?” I don’t have four hundred dollars in cash, and I was hoping once I found the gaming system to charge the gift on a credit card, paying off the purchase later. What’s that saying about not asking permission and seeking forgiveness later? Credit cards work the same way.

“Just pay me when you can,” he states, brushing off my hesitation as he slips the bulky box back into the dark bag.

I hate owing people money and I’d feel better paying him now. “Let me just write a check.” I turn for my kitchen. Pulling open the drawer where I keep office supplies, pens clatter and a notebook slides around. The checkbook is buried in the back.

“Holliday,” Nick whispers, his voice brushing near my ear, and reminding me of how he said my name earlier today. “Pay me later.”

Spinning to face him, he’s so close I catch a whiff of bayberry and snow. There’s something about the scent that makes me salivate while a rush of fireflies zip down my center.

He lifts his hand and brushes back my hair, curling his fingers around my ear before running his knuckles along the side of my neck. “How about that something stronger?”

“Right.” He’s so close I could kiss him. Where is mistletoe when you need it?

Schooling my overacting libido, I step left, and reach into a cabinet for wineglasses.

“Where can I put that?” He points at the gaming system, still hidden by the plastic bag.