Yes, Virginia, Here Comes Santa Claus Page 2
A second black eyebrow arched. “Say what? You got a thang for some little girl?” He scooted away from Brad as if the journalist had the plague. “That’s sick, Rude-man, that’s what that is. Plain ol’ sick and twisted.”
“No, no—you’ve got it all wrong!” Brad took a deep breath and held up his hands in surrender. “She’s an adult. At least, I’m fairly certain she is… Her handwriting is impeccable.”
“Okay.” Derek’s furrowed brow indicated he wasn’t entirely convinced. “You’re a crazy bastard at times, but you’ve really lost me on this one, Rude-man.”
Brad sighed. “You can’t feel any more lost than I do. But I’m telling you the truth. I was reading and answering these letters to Santa Claus for the Christmas Shopper edition and this purple envelope falls out of the stack. It looked a lot different from your typical six-year-old kid’s handwriting, so I opened it. Some woman wrote that she had lost all faith in Santa Claus since her boyfriend left her. And it was simply signed ‘Virginia’. Weird, huh?”
“No kidding.” Derek thoughtfully stroked his beard-stubbled chin. “And the postmark was from around here, you say?”
“Yeah, it came from here.” Brad turned and stared long and hard at his teammate. “Hey…I think you know exactly whom I’m talking about. I think you know a Virginia that I don’t know.”
He grabbed Derek by the T-shirt and went eye-to-eye. “Please tell me. For God’s sake, tell me who she is and put me out of my misery.”
“Whoa, dude! It’s cool…” Derek pulled himself free of Brad’s death grip. “Chill out. Yeah, I’m fairly certain I know this Virginia you speak of. She goes by Ginny.”
Brad slapped his forehead in disgust. “Shit. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“’Cause you’re a moron, Rude-man. If you had asked me outright earlier, you would have spare yourself all this heartache.”
Derek settled back against the bleachers and began his tale. “Ginny hooked up with one of our former paramedics named Bobby Schmidt. After a couple of years in the firefighting biz, Bobby decides to he wants to attend nursing school and get his BSN. He met Ginny in the program there. After they graduated, they moved back to town and were fixin’ to get married, but Bobby’s National Guard unit got the call and he got sent overseas.”
“Oh, I see.” Brad nodded, a frown creasing his forehead. “So was he…killed in action?”
“No, he’s fine. He still emails us all at the firehouse from time to time. But about a month or two after he gets over there, he sends Ginny a ‘Dear Jane’ letter and breaks her heart. The way he tells it, he fell in love with one of his fellow soldiers.”
“You saying the guy is gay?”
Derek swatted him on the leg with his towel again. Brad flinched.
“Yee-ow! Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to smack people with your sweat towel, Stretch?”
“Didn’t yours tell you not to act like an idiot?” The lanky fireman rolled up his towel and stuffed it in his bag. “Anyway, to continue my story, Bobby fell for a fellow Army nurse who goes by the name of Ingrid. I think she won a title like ‘Miss Minnesota’ once. From the photos he’s emailed to all his drinking buddies, you can tell she’s quite the fox.”
“All legs and blonde hair, huh?” Brad took a long drink of his water bottle. “So, what’s this Ginny look like? Not tall and blonde, I take it.”
Derek shook his head. “No, but she’s a beauty all the same. And one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet this side of heaven. My wife and kids adore her. She’s kind and friendly—she loves children and helping people. Ginny is just an all around wonderful person.”
Brad knew what he was going to say next sounded harsh, but he just had to ask. “If she’s so damn wonderful, then why did Bobby dump her?”
“The man is a fool—that’s why.”
Derek lowered his voice and looked around the gym quickly before resuming his tale. “After we got to know her better, everybody in town knew Ginny was simply too good for ol’ fun-lovin’ Bobby. It didn’t surprise us none that he’d dump her like he did. Ginny’s a good girl, looking to settle down and start a family and help her community. But Bobby…” Derek shrugged dramatically. “Well, I like him, but I can’t lie about the man. He was always looking out for number one and getting ahead. This Ingrid has a father who’s a captain or general or something, from what I understand.”
Brad shook his head and tutted. “Wow. I never thought it was possible, but your friend Bobby makes me look like a saint by comparison.”
“I wouldn’t quite say that.” Derek laughed and slapped his teammate on the back. “But you’re right. You probably would have been more up front with Ginny. You wouldn’t have strung her along, rented a house with her and started planning the wedding, and then signed up to go overseas and date a general’s daughter.”
“No, I’d never do anything as heartless as that. So…” Brad leaned back with his hands behind his head and grinned. “You fixin’ to give me Ginny’s full name and address?”
Derek’s eyes narrowed. He picked up his sports bag and water bottle and headed toward the locker room. “No way.”
“Huh?” Brad sprang to his feet and followed him. “Why not? Ginny sounds like a terrific girl. And even if she isn’t a tall, leggy blonde, it sounds like she has many other great attributes, and—”
“—And that’s exactly why I ain’t tellin’ you her name and address, Rude-man. She’s a sensitive and caring person. She don’t need to be messed with like you plan on messin’ with her. Leave the poor woman alone.”
“Hey, Derek, dude, it’s not like that at all…” Brad ran to keep up with his long-legged friend. “She wrote to me—I mean, she wrote to Santa Claus--saying she wanted a new man in her life. Why can’t I help her out?”
Derek stopped dead in his tracks. Brad crashed straight into him.
“Excuse me.” He smiled meekly.
“Yeah, I’ll excuse you this time, Rude-man. But you’d better leave Ginny alone now, y’hear?”
* * * *
Why does everyone think I’m a heartless loser?
Brad took a big bite of his breakfast burrito later that morning, slowly chewing on his thoughts as well as he stared at his computer terminal.
He hadn’t said that all he wanted was to jump on Ginny’s bones and then disappear from her life forever, but somehow Derek had received that impression from him. Just because he talked tough about sports didn’t mean he was a cruel bastard when it came to the ladies.
Anyway, he owed Derek big time. Inadvertently, the six-foot-five firefighter had filled in the missing pieces of the puzzle. Derek had informed him that Virginia went by Ginny, and that she was a nurse.
In a small town there weren’t exactly a huge number of doctors’ offices, and there was only one hospital. One quick phone call to Mesa Verde Medical Center later and he knew both her full name and what department she worked in.
Brad smiled. After he helped get the paper to bed, he’d take a casual tour of the area’s premier medical facilities, paying particular attention to the nurses working on the third floor maternity wing.
* * * *
“One of those little fellas yours, by chance?”
Brad startled, a guilty flush spreading across his face.
“No, no, I’m just looking at a friend’s baby.” He quickly cleared his throat and tore his gaze from the viewing window. “I’ve never seen so many newborns in one place before in my life. It’s overwhelming.”
The middle-aged nurse grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Ten babies isn’t exactly a herd, but for this part of the world I’d say it’s been a prolific week.”
Brad refocused on the scene before him. An enchantingly exotic, dark-eyed, dark-haired woman in baby pink nursing scrubs entered the nursery. He leaned closer to the glass. She possessed a heartbreaking smile and dimples to die for. Carefully she picked up one of the newborns from its crib, slowly rocking it back and forth in her arms.
The brunette beauty was an angel, and the babies? They were her little cherubs. They belonged together. And, more than anything, he wanted to be with them.
Something new and unusual happened deep inside Brad at precisely that moment. Words alone couldn’t explain the tender, fuzzy-warm feeling that enveloped his soul and brought a peace he’d never experience before. Suddenly, he had to admit that he liked living in small town West Texas. He enjoyed the slow pace, the friendly people and the freedom from constant pressures of the rat race. He wanted to settle down in this small town, marry and raise a whole passel of beautiful cherub babies to be rocked by their gorgeous brown-eyed mother.
Brad felt his heart grow ten-times larger—exactly like the heart of that revered green creature of classic children’s Christmas literature. And like that formerly mean-spirited character, he never wanted to return to his former existence.
In an instant, his mission changed. No longer was this a simple attempt to score a little action with a lovely, lonely lady. He’d woo and win the forever love of the very beautiful Ginny Chin. His mission now paralleled Santa’s…
“Excuse me, but can you tell me who’s that nurse in there with the babies?” Brad asked, praying his assumption proved correct.
“That’s Ginny Chin. She’s one of our best obstetrical nurses. She’s making sure everyone’s had their vitals checked and their cords treated so they’ll drop off.”
He blinked. “Drop off?”
“Their umbilical cords?” The nurse chuckled. “You don’t still have yours by chance, do you?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so.”
“Good.” She followed Brad’s gaze to Ginny sitting in the rocking chair, singing to one of her charges. “You here to look at newborns or nurses?”
“Both.” His face turned red again. “No, I didn’t mean to say that… It’s not like that at all. I’m not a stalker or anything.”
The nurse took a step closer and crossed her arms. Brad read her name off her badge. Glenna Ramos, Nursing Supervisor.
Uh-oh. He gulped.
“You’re not going to kick me out of the hospital, are you?”
“Well, now, that depends.” Glenna crossed her arms deliberately across her big chest. “You’re not trying to scout out any future football players, are you? ’Cause if you are, then at least give them the decency to grow up a little before you rip their sports careers to shreds, Mr. Rude Reporter.”
Brad slumped and turned away from the window. “You’ve read my column, huh?”
Glenna laughed. “No, really. But I know for a fact that Ginny reads it every week. She’s a football fanatic, and she’s always singing your praises. So, how long have you two been going out?”
“Going out?” Brad’s mind raced. Ginny read his column? And she liked it? There was hope after all…
“We haven’t gone out yet, but if you could help me out, Nurse Ramos, we will. Can you tell me if Ginny is off on Christmas Eve?”
Glenna bit her lip in thought. “Hmm, she could be. She’s been working a lot of overtime these past few months after Bobby…” She shifted her weight and looked him directly in the eye, sizing him up. “You have something special in mind?”
Brad stepped away from the viewing glass and lowered his voice. “As a matter of fact, I do. Can you keep a secret?”
Here Comes Santa Claus…
Ginny caressed the silky, scarlet slip dress that clung to her every curve. Yummy… With her dark brown, waist-length hair on top, she looked like a delicious chocolate-covered cherry. How on earth did he guess her dress size—and her shoe size as well?
She chuckled to herself as she prepared for her evening’s visitor. “I guess Santa Claus does exist, and uses his magical powers to find out women’s clothing sizes.”
She put the finishing touches on her make-up then slipped her feet into red-spangled stiletto mules. Touching the gold heart-shaped locket at her throat and the sparkly snowflake crystal earrings, she smiled. They gave the outfit the perfect touch. Santa was a first class romantic.
He must have a charge account at Victoria’s Secret, too. The sassy crimson matching thong panties, garter belt, fishnet stockings and lacy bra were to die for.
What had the note that came with the package said about his arrival exactly? She turned from her full-length mirror and picked up the holly-bordered slip of paper from her dresser.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus—
And you have been a very good girl. Your kindness and compassion has been duly noted by one and all. You deserve to be richly rewarded… Enclosed are a few early gifts for you to wear when I come to visit you on Christmas Eve at nine o’clock. Be sure to have plenty of cookies on hand for me. I’ll bring some other ‘goodies’ for you, too.
Yours,
Santa
“Ooo, I can’t wait to show him my ‘goodies’.”
Ginny reached into the top drawer and pulled out a festive box of red and green condoms. Ho, ho, ho… If Santa Claus turned out to be as romantic in person as he was in print, she wanted to be prepared.
Heavens above, but she was acting crazy! All she could do for the past week was think about enjoying wild, passionate sex with a total stranger. But what could she say? She had written to the jolly old elf courtesy of the Courier, and he had replied. Obviously, he understood her need to feel like a woman in the eyes of at least one special man tonight. And from the tenor of the gifts he had already sent… Well, nothing boring or practical or flannel was included.
A tap, tap, tapping on her windowpane alerted Ginny to her visitor’s arrival.
“Ohmigosh! He’s here! He’s here!”
She quickly misted herself with a light violet-scented cologne and smoothed her hair and dress in place. Sauntering unsteadily on her high heels, she made her way toward the front door.
No one was there.
She opened the door wider and glanced in both directions. “Funny…I thought I heard a tapping. Maybe he’s at the back door?”
“Look up.”
A shiver of anticipation zinged down her spine. Ginny shook her head and gulped. “Say what?”
“Look up,” the deep, masculine voice repeated. “I arrived by sleigh, but I thought I’d better use a more conventional entrance. I don’t want to get chimney soot all over your carpet.”
“Oh…thanks. I appreciate that.”
A boot attached to a jean-covered leg swung over the side of her roof and then another. With a big push, the owner of the suave baritone landed on her front stoop and spun around.
“Merry Christmas, Ginny. May I come in?”
A simple question deserved a simple answer, but she didn’t know what to say. The six-foot-tall man in front of her didn’t resemble the classical representation of Santa Claus at all. He was broad shouldered and built like an athlete. His tight jeans revealed powerful, long legs and a firm ass. Beneath a smart leather jacket, the white T-shirt, stretched across a taut muscular chest, said simply, “I brake for reindeer.”
However, it was the big, bushy, fake white beard and the long, red stocking cap with a white pom-pom that together completely covered his face that really threw her for a loop.
“Uh, come on in,” she said at last, stepping back to allow him to enter. She tried not to stare at her guest unduly, but there was something oddly familiar about him. It wasn’t his voice—she was fairly certain they’d never spoke to each other before. It had something to do with his eyes… Those twinkling, honey-flecked brown eyes spoke volumes. It was as if they were two old friends who had never met.
“What a lovely home you have here,” Santa said, placing a red, drawstring sack down next to the sofa. “Ah, and you’ve got a nice roaring fire in the fireplace, too. I’m glad I didn’t slide down the chi
mney!”
Ginny forced a chuckle, mentally congratulating herself on buying some logs and starting a fire tonight. The crackling and popping added a merry tune to the awkward silence in the room. The amber glow of the flickering flames only helped to accentuate the mighty masculine form standing in front of it… A flood of warmth rushed through her veins, pooling between her thighs. She forced her gaze upward from Santa’s groin and his well-developed personal package.
“Can I get you some homemade chocolate chip cookies?”
“Perfect. But no need for hot cocoa or milk—I brought us some very fine liquid refreshment.”
He pulled out a bottle of champagne. Dom Perignon, to be exact. Ginny felt her jaw drop to her trembling knees.
“Oh, my…that’s great. I’ve never had Dom Perignon before. I’ll go dig out my best wine glasses.”
She raced to the kitchen and made a frantic search of the cupboards. Where had she stowed her crystal? She’d stuck the glasses someplace safe, probably so Bobby wouldn’t think of pouring a Budweiser into one and accidentally break it. Damn! Could they still be packed up in one of the boxes out in the shed?
“No need to look for glasses,” he called out. “I have some champagne flutes here.”
Ginny smiled. Santa had thought of everything. He must be the real deal.
She arranged the cookies on a large plate and re-entered the living room. Santa sat on the corner of her couch, unwrapping the wire cage from the champagne bottleneck. With a pop, the cork came out and frothy fluid gushed forth. He chuckled.
“Sorry about your rug there.” He grabbed a flute, poured some of the wine into each of the glasses, then handed her one. “Champagne gets carried away at times.”
“Like lonely women reading the newspaper during the holidays.” Ginny sighed, placing the cookies on the coffee table. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” They clinked glasses together and sipped.
“Sit down, sit down.” He motioned toward the sofa. “I promise I won’t bite—not unless you want me to.”