Santa's Special Delivery Read online

  I shake my head and give him a rueful smile. “I am not. But I am the one who ordered all these packages and accidentally entered the wrong address.”

  I blush under his scrutinous glare and lift an apologetic shoulder, the heat on my face melting any remaining ice on the porch.

  “You did this,” he bellows, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “Because of you, my grandfather’s house looks like Santa’s workshop.”

  Just then, a less imposing voice hollers from inside. “Who’s at the door, Gabriel? Invite them in, it’s too cold to leave the door open.”

  As if that breaks some of the ice in his glare, his shoulders fall, and he almost looks contrite.

  “Come on in. I’ll help you pack up this stuff in your car.”

  With a sweeping motion of his hand, he holds the door for me so I can step into the charming, turn-of-the-century Craftsman home, decorated for the holidays with garland wrapped around the stairs and a big tree with all the bright, holiday trimmings. As I enter, a smiling older gentleman in a blue leather recliner and a puce-colored sweater offers me a merry greeting.

  “Well, hello there. Are you the elf who’s come to pick up your Christmas gifts?”

  He tries to stand up from the chair, but Mr. Icicle Eyes rushes to his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to keep him down, much to the dislike of the older gentleman. But he seems to acquiesce with little argument.

  “Don’t overexert yourself, Granddad.”

  The younger of the two men turns toward me, and with the nudge of his chin, beckons me over.

  I give him the older man a cheery smile, offering my hand to him. “Hello, sir. I’m Joy Winters, it’s nice to meet you. And may I offer my sincere apologies for this mix-up. I certainly hope it hasn’t been too problematic.”

  Mr. Icicle Eyes grunts while his grandfather waves his hand dismissively.

  “Nonsense, dear. A pleasure to meet you, Joy. I’m Fred Frost and this handsome Scrooge here is my grandson, Gabriel Frost.”

  My gaze flicks to Gabriel, who stands with his arms folded at his chest in a defensive posture. As if my unexpected arrival has caused him a terrible inconvenience.

  I nod in Gabriel’s direction, acknowledging his sullen behavior with a bright grin.

  “I assume you’re a member of Shoppers Anonymous?”

  My nose scrunches up and brows pinch together in question. “Excuse me? I’m not sure what…”

  With a roll of his eyes and the gesture of his hand toward the mound of packages near their front window, I understand why he thinks that I have an online shopping problem.

  I form an O with my mouth and chuckle. “Oh, no these aren’t all for me. They’re gifts donated for the charity I run for underprivileged kids. It’s called Make a Kid’s Holiday Merry. It’s the second year in a row now and we get donations of gifts, toys, clothes and money for foster kids in need from all over the country, but mostly the Boston and surrounding counties.”

  I’m needlessly babbling, nervous under the weight of the glare from the imposing man standing next to me who is clearly not interested in any explanation I can offer. I swallow thickly.

  The elder Mr. Frost sighs appreciatively. “What an angel you are to do that for children. Isn’t she an angel, Gabriel?”

  The look on Gabriel’s face matches the flat tone of his response. “Uh-huh. Angel.”

  I continue with my story. “I am so sorry the packages were delivered to your house. You see, the day I set up the donations account, I must have fast-fingered the address. Your address is identical to mine, accept it’s Bower Street not Bowen.”

  I lift my shoulders apologetically and smile through gritted teeth.

  The two men reply at the same time.

  “Honest mistake.” This from the grandfather Fred.

  “For fuck’s sake.” Gabriel mutters under his breath.

  For that, Gabriel gets taken to task from his grandfather.

  “Gabriel, what did I say about using that word in my house?”

  Gabriel huffs out a mumbled apology and heads toward the pile of packages.

  He bends over, offering me a really nice view of his ass in his black jeans, lifting several boxes at a time. Too bad his attitude isn’t as lovely as his backside because I could definitely have hours of entertainment staring at that butt.

  But sadly, the exterior package doesn’t match what’s on the inside, which from my brief interaction, appears to be rude, ornery and the biggest holiday grouch I’ve ever met.

  I don’t know who pissed in his Wheaties today, but his manners leave a lot to be desired.

  Gabriel catches me ogling his ass when he swivels back around, arching a handsome brow at me with a knowing look.

  “Are you planning on helping me anytime soon? Because I have plans tonight.”

  Gabriel

  There is no question about it. I’m getting a lump of coal in my stocking this year.

  And there’s no doubt I deserve it with how rude I was with Little Miss Christmas Cheer.

  I mean, for the love of Pete, her name is fucking Joy.

  How befitting.

  Admittedly, she’s as cheery, vibrant and adorable as her name suggests. But her cuteness doesn’t overshadow the fact that she’s also sexy as fuck. Her tiny frame is perfectly proportioned, leaving my mouth watering and hands twitching with an unexplained need to touch her as we carried load after load of packages out to her small car.

  By the fourth trip, it was clear she wouldn’t have room for anything more. Leaving only two options: either I fill up my Audi A4 and drive them over with her or she’d have to return to pick up the rest.

  I was worried if she came back, I’d end up doing something I’d regret. Like hauling off and kissing her under the mistletoe.

  Maybe it’s all the tension from working non-stop on this case over the last few months, and the fact that I haven’t had any time for a social life, but something about Joy hit me square in the gut. And the groin.

  At one point, she’d leaned into the back of her hatchback to arrange the boxes and her big down jacket and sweater rose up to display a teasing strip of her red thong peeking out from her jeans and I salivated like it was the scent of fresh baked Christmas cookies straight from the oven.

  Thank God I’d been holding boxes in front of my jeans, otherwise it would’ve looked like I wanted to deliver my own package right in her chimney shoot.

  In the end, I decided to follow her home to help her out and get rid of her as quickly as possible before I embarrassed myself.

  Christ, I needed to go out and get a drink tonight after this fiasco.

  Slamming the door on my trunk, I peer over my shoulder at Joy as she steps into the driver side of her car.

  “I’ll follow you. Lead the way.”

  She smiles and waves through the front windshield and we head off in the direction of her home.

  As we unpack all the boxes and pile them in her small living area, I take the opportunity to snoop around, noticing the pictures hanging on the walls. One thing is very noticeable. All the photos are of her and a very pretty African American woman, dating back to when they were probably teens.

  “That’s Deirdre, my partner and best friend.”

  I turn to the side to find Joy smiling brightly, an enormous amount of love shining through her eyes at the woman she’s obviously fond about.

  “You two look good together,” I observe, figuring they must be in a relationship of some sort. I don’t see a ring on her finger, or any wedding ceremony pictures in the photo collection, but it’s pretty clear they’re in love. Every photo has them smiling and laughing together.

  “Thanks. I probably wouldn’t be here today had it not been for her. She got me through a lot in my life.”

  I nod, sliding my hands down the front pocket of my jeans, not sure what to say at this point.

  “Okay, then. I guess I should get going. Glad we could work this out. Those boxes were annoying me.”


  Why am I being so rude toward this woman?

  I’m startled when her hand lands in the middle of my chest. I tilt my head to stare down at it, wondering how such a small, delicate hand can radiate such warmth, all the way down to my toes. I envision that hand slipping into my jeans, grasping my cock tightly and stroking…

  “Wait, Gabriel,” she begins, and then pauses, biting her bottom lip hesitantly. “I, uh…well, I want to warn you that there’s more coming.”

  My head pops back up, my gaze locking with hers. “What, now?”

  I try to clear my head with a shake because the words I heard her say were, “Gabriel, I’m coming.”

  My daydream about Joy’s hand pressed against my chest as she straddled me from above, her naked body moving on top of mine, her breasts swaying in my face, as I bucked my hips and pumped my cock inside her as she screamed out her orgasm just got doused with cold water.

  She tips her head shyly. “I’m so sorry, but there are about sixty more orders that are still out for delivery that all have the wrong address. I couldn’t change them in time. So, perhaps we can arrange for another day later this week for me to come over and pick them up?”

  I scrub a hand over my forehead and down my face and grumble.

  “This is very inconvenient.”

  And I don’t mean the package deliveries. I mean having to see her again. With the way my thoughts so easily veered off into dirty-land over Joy, I’m not sure I can trust myself if we spend any more time together, even just briefly.

  She looks dejected, her chin dropping to her chest and her cheery disposition deflating like a popped balloon.

  “I know and I’m so sorry,” she exhales, her whole body crestfallen. God, I feel like a king jerk. “It’s all my fault. But maybe I can make it worth your while.”

  My ears perk up in interest, as does my cock. Now we’re talking. Maybe she’s thinking the same thing I am and there’s a blowjob on the table for the inconvenience this has caused me. I can’t help but lift the corners of my mouth in a salacious smirk.

  “Oh yeah? And what do you propose as an incentive for my time?”

  My eyes must convey the dirty deeds I’m thinking about because she honest-to-god blushes. And now with the red tint slashed across her milky white skin, I can’t help but wonder if she tastes like a candy cane, too.

  I take a step forward, crowding her against the desk in the middle of the room. I hear the soft inhale of air from her parted lips and I’m just about to lean in and kiss her when a cold gust of wind bursts through the open door.

  “Whose Audi is blocking my driveway…I had to walk through three feet of snow to…”

  And this must be Joy’s partner, Deirdre.

  Joy

  “I think he was about to kiss me.”

  I’m retelling the afternoon’s events to Deirdre over shots of Fireball whisky at the Snow Globe Bar & Grille, my fingers lingering over my lips as if just the mention of a kiss has them tingling.

  She’s aware of what happened from the moment she came bursting in the house, hands full of grocery bags for the cookies we’re going to make for the bake sale tomorrow at the Senior Center. All our profits will go to buying more toys and gifts for the charity. It’s a win-win. Cookies for the kids.

  Deirdre raises her glass and downs it smoothly. “Here’s to gorgeous Mr. Scrooge and his nice-looking package. I’d tap that.”

  I may have also mentioned just how well-endowed he appeared underneath the dark jeans he wore, and that I may have noticed the outline of his bulge during our several trips to the car.

  “If only he didn’t have such a sour personality. He’s just plain grouchy. I don’t want to be with a man that doesn’t treat others as if they matter. When I meet the man of my dreams, he’ll be charming, and sexy, and incredibly kind, not just to me, but to everyone.”

  She slants her head to the side, lifting a brow. “So, you basically want to fuck and marry Santa Claus.”

  I lean over the bar stool and slap her wrist playfully. “Ewww…no! He’s too old and chubby for my taste. I know this is totally superficial, but I want a svelte Santa that looks just like Gabriel.”

  “And don’t forget about the big schlong, too.”

  I smack her again as the bartender places two frothy-looking, peppermint adorned drinks in front of us. My eyes track between the drinks and Deirdre.

  “Did you order these?” I ask her, pointing unnecessarily to the glasses.

  She shakes her head and reaches for the one closest to her. “Nope, but they look delish.”

  The bartender interjects. “They’re from the man over in the corner booth.”

  I swivel in my barstool, turning behind me to look in the direction the bartender has pointed. Sitting there in a cream-colored, cable knit sweater, looking like a sexy fisherman, is the man we’ve been talking about over the past hour.

  My head snaps back around to stare at the drink, covering the side of my face with a hand to hide the smile curving over my lips, and the flush over my face from the attentive stare of one Gabriel Frost.

  Deirdre takes a sip and moans. “Oh, my word, this drink is heaven. What’s it called?”

  The bartender smiles proudly. “Some people call them a Peppermint Patty. But mine is a Peppermint Joy.”

  My mouth drops open at the obvious connection between the drink and my name.

  “Deirdre,” I whisper, giving a nudge of my head. “He’s right over there. Gabriel is here.”

  Without any consideration to being discreet, she whirls around, raising her glass in thanks toward Gabriel.

  “Seems he found some Christmas spirit after all. Now why don’t you go back there and visit with him while I finish this drink before I head out to meet up with Thomas.”

  “What? No. You can’t leave me here with him. I need you…”

  She taps me lightly on the back of my shoulder, placing her empty glass on the counter before she stands up and swings a scarf around her neck. “Girl, you need me to leave you two alone so you can unwrap that package of his tonight.”

  Deirdre hands the bartender a tip and pulls her phone out of her purse, checking her message log.

  “Plus, Thomas is off work in an hour, and I’d planned on meeting him at his place. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the cookie baking.” She leans down and kisses my cheek and then walks toward Gabriel’s booth.

  My eyes follow her as she stops to say something to him, which I can’t hear, but he smiles and raises his beer glass in response. Then she struts to the door and out into the frigid night.

  Suddenly, I feel cold shivers.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything with a man. The last one was…ugh, it was Georgie Hammond. A hockey player I met a bar one night in Boston well over a year ago. Talk about a slap shot. He may be good on the ice, but he didn’t bring those skills into the bedroom.

  My one-night stand was a quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am that wasn’t worthy of any repeats. The only exciting thing I got out of it was two tickets to his next game, which I gave away on account of never wanting to see him again.

  I take a fortifying sip of the drink and lick the foam off my lip as Gabriel steps into my space next to my chair.

  When I smile up at him, his serious expression isn’t what I expect to see.

  “Um, is everything okay?” I ask, perplexed as to why he’s wearing a scowl. For someone who seemed to be flirting just a moment ago and buying me a drink, he sure is quick to revert back to his grouchy ways.

  “You have some foam on your lip,” he observes, his thumb running over my upper lip to wipe it away.

  I think my breath stalls and I instinctively flick the tip of my tongue around my mouth as his crystalline eyes watch with interest.

  Mumbling my thanks, I grab for a napkin and make sure I haven’t missed anything. Lifting my gaze back to his, I ask, “All good?”

  Gabriel thinks about this for a second, dipping his head from right to left, staring at
my lips.

  And then he says something I don’t expect him to say. “No, it’s not good.”

  The next thing I know, his lips are covering mine, the taste of his beer mixing with peppermint, his tongue sweeping in as I part my lips to give him more.

  Whoa, this kiss could melt the entire North Pole.

  It’s hot and passionate, and I think it just gained the attention of someone in the bar because a loud wolf whistle just sounded from somewhere behind us.

  Whether it’s the drink or his kiss that is so intoxicating, I’m left a little dizzy and lightheaded as he ends the kiss and pulls back, checking for my reaction.

  “Now, it’s good.”

  His smile is smug, but still so very beautiful. And I just know he knows what his unexpected kiss has done to me.

  But I have to agree with him. “Yes, it is good.”

  Gabriel takes the seat next to me, reaching for my glass to take a sip. His nose scrunches from the taste and he sets it back down.

  “Too sweet for me.” His chin dimple grows wider with his grin. “But I certainly liked the taste on you.”

  Blushing, I turn my head, taking a big inhale to calm my racing heart.

  When I turn back to him, I ask him about his sudden change of mind. “I didn’t think you even liked me, Gabriel. But now you’re buying me drinks and kissing me? I’m a little confused.”

  He scrubs a hand over his chin, thinking seriously about my question and then tilts toward me, bending at his hips so his mouth is at my ear.

  “Aside from my grandfather giving me a stern talking to and calling me out for my very unholiday-like mood, it’s you, Joy. How could I not feel the Christmas spirit when I’m around someone like you? Just your smile melted this cranky heart of mine.” He takes my hand and places it across his heart and I think I swoon. “And you’re a sexy angel, to boot.”

  I sit there for a bit, mesmerized by his delicious scent and taste, and how he called me sexy.

  Without thinking too hard on it, I decide tonight I’m going to live a little.

  If Gabriel can acknowledge he was a grouch, then I can let my hair down and have a fun night without waiting for something that’s perfect.