Page 2 of Playing Santa

This is where we raise a bunch of cash for the animal shelter and we adopt pets. I’m in the market for a puppy whether it’s a wise choice or not at this stage of the season. We’re heading into the playoffs which is a complete time suck—and so are puppies if memory serves. I figure my youngest sister will come up from Texas to help me out with the training though she doesn’t know it yet.

“What kind of pet are you looking for? I say to Tate, “A rattle snake?” My friend punches my arm and I feign injury.

“I want a kitten,” Chloe says with a longing smile.

Tate leans in and whispers, “Her long-time cat died recently. It was her dad’s cat that she brought with her up from Savanah. She’s been devastated.” He clears his throat. “We’re not leaving here today without the cutest kitten they have.”

She grins, “Maybe two of them.”

I choke at the look on Tate’s face. Surprise doesn’t cover it and I laugh at him.

“Sounds like a plan.” I say. “Wouldn’t want a kitten to get lonely.”

Tate nudges me with his knee and I laugh louder until the auctioneer starts up. The audience fills the space with close to a hundred people, a good number of them with the team, and there’s people standing at the back. With my auction paddle in hand, I’m ready, my competitive juices kicking in.

“What kind of dog are you looking for?” Chloe asks. I shake my head.

“I honestly have no clue. A dog who looks like he needs a good home.”

The auctioneer booms, “Ladies and gentlemen, the first adorable pet looking for a good home.” He waves his arm, playing part auctioneer and part circus master. All eyes turn toward the door to the kennel where I watch my mystery woman with the sapphire eyes bringing in the first dog. So that’s why she’s dressed more like a farmer than a party goer.

Bidding for the first dog goes fast and furious with bidding starting at a hundred dollars. At one point I raise my paddle just to tweak the competition and one of my teammates glares at me as he outbids me easily.

“This is fun,” I say.

“You’re just making indiscriminate bids, aren’t you?” Tate accuses.

“So what if I am? It’s for a good cause.” Plus, I want to get my dream woman’s attention.

The gorgeous mystery woman assists the auctioneer bringing each puppy and dog up to the stage and showing them around to the bidders, keeping them under control. She has a great way with animals. No duh. She works here.

Sitting not too far from the door to the kennel, I notice Jimmy playing with a cute fluff ball. He clearly loves the puppy and my grin is automatic.

“That’s the puppy you want?” Chloe asks. I turn to her, not realizing how obvious my staring is.

“Yeah. Sure.” Though it would seem like stealing if I took the puppy from Jimmy. It would probably rip the kid’s heart out. But then someone else will get the pup if I don’t, then the kid wouldn’t have a chance. At least if I get it, I could surprise him with the pup as a gift. The notion grows on me and takes hold. The impulse is so strong that it silences all the problems that might come up like, what if they already have a dog, or what if they can’t have a dog where they live, or all the other possible things that could go wrong. All hesitation is silenced with the knowledge that I could keep the puppy for myself if Jimmy can’t.

Then he—and his gorgeous mom—could come and visit the puppy at my place. Fucking perfect.

Also, way ahead of myself. Wildly premature thinking. But I don’t give a shit.

When the puppy I want comes up and my girl—because I’m all in on the premature fantasies about this woman--carries the dog up to the stage, Jimmy tugs on her and she talks to him, bends down and lets him give the dog a final hug. My chest tightens as I watch her bring the puppy up to the podium, her smile not reaching her eyes this time, but her chin high and brave.

Fuck. My heart races. I have to buy that pup.

The puppy is a female and lively and as the auctioneer talks about her and the hot mamma shows her around, I fall in love with the dog, same as Jimmy has.

The auctioneer shouts, “Can I get a first bid?”

I raise my paddle.

“Five hundred smacks,” I say loud and clear, half ready to jump from my chair.

The auctioneer points at me and says, “Now there’s a man who knows what he’s after.” Everyone laughs, especially my teammates who know me, but I’m watching my girl and the smile on her face. It grows warm, reaching those spectacular eyes. She’s a sweetheart. But as she stands straight, darting consoling looks at her son, I see the toughness in her too. She’s prepared to take the shot to the gut of losing the puppy.

Turning back to the auctioneer, I raise my paddle again after two other people bid—including my irate teammate. Payback is a bitch. A lively bidding war ensues, going up by a hundred dollar increments to eighteen-hundred before I get impatient.

“Shit,” I mutter to Fontanna. “I’m going for it.” He slaps my back.