The Reluctant Santa Belle

She closed her eyes, feeling the crimson returning to her face.

"I'm sure people wonder what's going on here, with my face blinking on and off like a neon sign."

He squeezed her hand. "I'd just explain to them that it's me, trying to sweep you off your feet with my stumbling banter."

"Matt, you barely know me." As she said that, the irony of that statement, compared with the picture of her sitting on his lap, her bare breasts inches from his face struck her. She quickly dismissed it, afraid of where it might lead her.

"I probably know more than you think. Just from the talking we've done and the things you've told me about yourself. But," he said, holding up his hand to silence whatever she was going to say, "learning more will be fascinating."

She couldn't agree with him more about that, and vice-versa too.

"You're about twenty-one I'd guess."

Why did he have to bring that up? Things were going so well. She had no idea how old he was and was almost afraid to find out. You didn't become a capable surgeon at twenty-one.

"No, I'm twenty," she answered hesitantly.

"You could easily pass for twenty-five or older," he assured her.

He was holding her left hand with his left hand and one finger of his right was caressing the thin bracelet, just as he'd been doing last night. She was watching, nearly hypnotized by the gentle back and forth movement of his finger on her wrist, the simple touch of his finger warming her heart beyond reason. She thought that if he leaned forward to kiss her, she'd meet him halfway.

He raised his eyes to hers and she could see them gazing at first one of her eyes and then the other. He was going to say something; she could read that in the way he was looking and thinking.

"I was engaged once," he said quietly, still holding her eyes. "Wow, six years ago now." His expression didn't change. "Bad choice — the engagement, not the breaking up. Really screwed things up. Been doctoring ever since, just doctoring. Until now, until Monday, until last night, until today." He was squeezing her hand with each of the "untils." "Do you know what I'm saying, without me saying it?"

"I think so," she said, searching his eyes for confirmation.

"Think so?" he questioned, twisting his head and giving her an inquisitive look.

"I know what you're saying," she confirmed. "And I'm here. Do you know what I'm saying?"

"You bet." Another squeeze.

"One condition though," she cautioned.

"Oh shit. What do I have to do now?"

"It's what you have to STOP doing."

"You mean being a jerk and stuff like that?"

"Well, yes, of course. But if you keep coming to the club, you have to stop the extra tipping. You can tip for the dinner service, reasonably, but not the other things, which will be my way of tipping you."

"Erika, that isn't right. It's like your education fund."

"No, if we're dating, and you just asked me for a date so we are, then tipping for those things just wouldn't feel right."

"Ugh, I guess I see where you're coming from. I agree, on one condition."

"This is turning into a negotiation session."

"That's how we start I guess, getting everything in place right from the beginning."

"What's your condition?" She tried to look disgusted but wasn't very successful.

"I love this little bracelet. It just fascinates me, partly because your wrist is underneath it. But it's so fine and delicate that it will eventually break and you'll lose it. So, you take it and put it in a little box and stash it away where it won't get lost. I will get you a first-date present, a new bracelet with the letter "E" attached."

"Matt, come on. You don't have to do that."

"Did I have to ask you for a date?"

A hesitation. "No, of course not."

"Then why did I do it."

"Hell if I know," she teased. "Sorry. Because you wanted to and I get what you're saying."

"Good. I still have an hour and you don't work till evening. East Morrow Mall?"

"There's no sense disagreeing is there?"

"Nope."

Coats on, they headed for the parking lot.

"I'll drive if that's okay," he said.

"Fine. My car's a little tentative sometimes."

"I'm right over here," he said, gesturing to a sleek and low silver car.

"What's that?" she asked, eyes wide.

"It's a Porsche 911 Targa, but 911 Targa may not mean anything to you. Does it?" he laughed.

"It will a little later when I look it up on the internet. What year?"

"Smartypants, huh. It's a 2017."

"How fast does it go?"

"Depends on how fast I want to go and who's with me."

"If I'm with you, how fast?"

"We'll soon find out I guess." He noticed that Erika looked a little hesitant "I'm taking good care of you, so not very fast. I want to be sure you last to our first date, whenever that is. But, it can clip off one seventy-five on the right road."

Matt opened the door and helped a rather long Erika wind herself into the low passenger seat of the Porsche. Matt went around the car and slid down into his seat.

"Before we do anything more, let's trade cell numbers," Matt said, pulling his phone from his back pocket. Erika got hers out as well. They each recited their numbers, tapping the other's into their phone.

They drove to the mall, and only one time did Matt hit the accelerator, pinning Erika against the seat. At eighty he let off and the rest of the trip was uneventful, Erika noticing that they got lots of looks from cars they passed, and that passed them.

At the mall, they went to Doyle's Jewelry Store. Since she had purchased her two bracelets at Doyle's, she headed for that counter, only to have Matt take hold of her arm and pull her in a different direction.

"Matt, no. Those are gold and way too expensive." She started back toward the other display case but Matt blocked her path. "Matt," she said again, very sternly.

"Pick one," he said. "And pick the one you like the very best with no thought to anything else. Remember, you put a condition on getting this bracelet ... the no extra tip thing." She feigned a glare at him, but sighed and began looking at the bracelets. She quickly saw the one she wanted and cringed when she saw the price.

"Hi there, may I help you two?" the man in the suit said. "I'm Barry Doyle," he squinted at Matt, "Dr. Kinghorn."

"You been here long?" Matt asked, looking around.

"About two weeks now."

"I see you have security too." Matt nodded toward the back of the store.

"Officer Timson. I feel much better when she's around." He smiled at the female police officer standing on the other side of the counter. "I closed the downtown store and moved here. Too many alarms downtown, right, Officer Timson?"

The laugh Barry got from Officer Timson told Erika and Matt that there was more to that story than they had just heard.

Erika pointed out the bracelet she liked. Barry removed it from the display case and carefully put it on her wrist after first removing the small bracelet that was there.

"Beautiful," he said. "Eileen, look at this."

Matt nudged Erika who had picked up on what had been said.

"Very pretty," Officer Timson ... Eileen ... said.

Matt and Barry moved to the other side of the counter to complete everything.

"A very handsome doctor, isn't he?" Eileen said.

"Barry seems very nice too," Erika countered, watching Eileen's face.

Eileen looked at her and smiled. "More than very nice," she said quietly.

"So is Matt," Erika added.

Eileen smiled and moved around the counter as Matt was headed back to Erika.

"Thank you," Erika said. Before she realized he was moving he had kissed her.

"You're very welcome," he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the store.

Erika was working the six to eleven shift today and it was a very quiet time with three men talking to her like they wished it was after eleven, and "cuddles" were possible. When she finished the shift, she stopped in the front where she knew Barry had her pay.

"So, your first regular paycheck. How was the week?"

"I could never have imagined," she said, amazement filling her face.

"Here's your check," he said, holding it toward her. "You want to guess?"

Please, no." she said, waving her hand. "I'm afraid to."

He laughed. "How does two thousand two-hundred-twenty-five dollars sound?"

"Oh my gosh." She was staring at Zack, eyes wide. She couldn't keep from calculating in her mind what she might have made at Winegardner's had she worked there. Her shift would probably have been six hours rather than eight, so sixty dollars a day and three hundred dollars a week. For the five weeks, fifteen hundred dollars. She had made way more than that in her first week at Winebrenner's.

She had already begun to think about something else. If she had a date with Matt, and then another and so on, how comfortable would she be sitting on a stranger's lap with bare breasts, particularly if the stranger decided he wanted a squeeze or two. She wanted to save the squeezes for Matt if he wanted them. She knew that sitting on Matt's lap with her bare breasts would cause a reaction that she couldn't avoid and that would be very obvious to him. Depending on what happened between now and then, that might not be bad at all. He might enjoy it.

She had to stop thinking about it as the reaction was taking place right now.

"You looked at the weather forecast?" Zack asked.

"No, but it looks nasty outside."

"They're predicting a blizzard for this evening." He was looking at her.

She was a little alarmed at what Zack had said. "So, you're thinking it might be a slow night?"

"Yeah, for sure. Already had several cancellations. If you want to play it safe and bug out for tonight, that's fine with me."

She looked at Zack and then out the door. It was already dark outside and she could hear the sound of the wind, already beginning a gentle howl.

"Okay," she said. "If you're sure that's okay with you I'll head home."

"See ya," Zack said. I'll call you if things are still bad by Monday."

"Thanks." Erika was quickly out the door and to the parking lot, the wind tearing at her coat. She was glad she wasn't dressed in her Santa Belle outfit. She sat in the car debating, then pulled out her phone. A couple of punches and she was sending a text, smiling to herself that she was doing it.

Not working tonight due to blizzard. What are you up to?

In seconds her phone rang.

"No kidding," Matt said, sounding very pleased.

"No kidding. I'm sitting here in the parking lot, trying to decide what to do."

There were a few seconds of silence. "You like pizza?"

"Who doesn't?"

"I'm through and ready to head home. One surgery was canceled — weather you know." He laughed. "Do you know where Weatherly Road is?"

"Yeah, about."

"I live at 1267, just east of Broad. What kind of pizza?"

"Pepperoni and sausage are fine. So wait, are you asking me to meet you at your house?"

"Erika, you're so proper, I love it. Yes, I am asking that, and pray you'll consent to my request."

She couldn't let him get by with that without responding. "Yes, I'm consenting, Dr. Jerk." She held her breath, waiting for his reply.

A howl of laughter from the phone. "I'll get the pizza and have everything ready when you get there. Dr. Jerk. I'm getting a new name tag made." More laughter. "And when you're outside, call or text. I'll put the garage door up and you can park inside."

"Okay."

Park inside ... for how long? A couple of deep breaths.

"Starting to snow. And pretty hard," she said.

"Better hurry then. See you in a few."

"On the way," she replied, laying the phone down and starting the car.

By the time she found Matt's house, it was getting very difficult to see; the headlights just reflecting off the heavy snowfall and blotting out the road. She was fortunate that she knew exactly where Weatherly Road was and she spotted the house, the number barely visible on the curbside mailbox. The porch light was on and the garage door open. She carefully pulled inside and the door came down. All sorts of hidden significance in that but she wasn't quite ready to go there.

She climbed out of the car to Matt's greeting from the open door into the house. She smiled at the sight of her Chevrolet sitting beside his sleek Porsche. She wondered if the contrast covered more than just their cars.

But the smell of hot pizza was drawing her and, as she headed for the couch, his arms were suddenly around her, giving her a very welcoming hug.

"Glad you made it safely. I worried about you." He released her. "Pizza is over by the couch. What do you drink?"

"Diet anything," she replied, digging into her first piece of pizza. "And I know. Why drink diet when you're gorging yourself on pizza?"

"I didn't say a thing. Whatever you do, you do it well because you are gorgeous."

She decided that Matt wasn't wasting any time with preliminaries, which made her a little nervous since she still didn't know what her reactions might be.

He brought her a Diet Coke and had a Mountain Dew for himself.

"Doctors run on caffeine and nervous energy," he said, holding the Mountain Dew aloft.

He sat down next to her, his leg against hers, grabbed a piece of pizza and the TV remote, switching on channel one, the local news and weather channel.

"Good timing," Matt said as they could see the weather just beginning.

"Better have at least two days' supply of food on hand," the weatherman said. "Looks like we should be getting at least eighteen to twenty-four inches, possibly more, tonight. Plus, with the thirty-mile-per-hour winds, there's going to be a lot of drifting as well. The temperature will be dropping a little below twenty, so not a good night to be outside."

Matt looked at Erika. "Looks like you're going to be spending at least tonight with me." He followed that with an evil-sounding, cackling laugh.

"Matt, we haven't even had our first date yet."

"Yes, we have. Or yes, we are. I invited you here for pizza and that counts."

"No it doesn't," she said smugly. "We've got to go out somewhere for it to count."

"Let's go then. Snow's not too deep yet. We can find someplace open." He'd decided if she could torment him, he'd work a little on her as well.

"Sit down," she said, sounding disgusted but unable to keep from grinning. "I guess this can count."

"Good," he said. "So what do you allow on first dates." His turn to grin at her.

"What?"

"Just checking. Most girls have stuff they'll do on the first date, then the second, the third. You know. You probably do too."

He was giggling as her cheeks were obviously reddening.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and find out," she said, taking another bite of pizza, wondering just what she would do on a first date with Dr. Matthew Kinghorn. She was afraid she knew but blocked those thoughts from her mind.

"Lord I love it when you blush," he said, getting up and heading to the big front window, Erika right behind.

"Can't even see the street," he said, shielding his eyes against the bright light in the living room.

Erika was beside him, straining to see outside when she felt Matt's kiss on her cheek. She turned toward him, their faces inches apart.

"Is that allowed on the first date?" he asked softly, his blue eyes sparkling in the light reflected off the window.

"I think so," she said, smiling. "So's this," she added, leaning forward and planting a light kiss on his lips. "Listen," she added, her ear toward the window.

The wind was howling, the snow making clicking sounds against the glass.

"Yeah, and you heard the weatherman talk about drifting. If we have two feet of snow, there will be a four-foot deep drift in front of the garage door."

"You trying to convince me I'm stuck here with you for the night."

"It's the snow that should be convincing you."

"I think I could still make it home. Not that deep yet," she teased, not willing to admit, even to herself, that spending the night with Matt was beyond what she could have imagined even earlier today.

Matt just stared at her before he started laughing. "Come on. I bet you'd like a Hallmark movie."

"Oh, Lord. They're so corny, and the acting isn't the best. Having said that, let me mention that I watch them every chance I get ... and cry for the last two minutes. Mother says I inherited that from my dad."

"So, your dad's an emotional guy then?"

Erika looked away, out the window. She was silent for long seconds that seemed to hang in the air between them.

"He was," she said very softly. "At least that's what Mom told me. I never knew him; he was gone before I was three." She felt Matt's arms wrap around her, his head against her hair. It was somehow very soothing.

"Sorry," he said simply, his holding onto her much more precious than anything he could say.

"Let's watch that movie," she said, taking hold of his hand.

Matt searched the menu on the screen, found the Hallmark channel, and switched.

"Obviously not used to watching Hallmark," she giggled.

"Don't watch much of anything."

"How many hours a week do you work?"

"Varies. Usually sixty-five or seventy."

She looked puzzled.

"Go on," he encouraged, seeing her expression.

"You come to the club ..."

"I'm a little flexible with my hours. The three a.m. shift at the hospital knows me." He smiled at her. "Plus, the food's so good I hate to miss it."

She was thinking and calculating, but it didn't make sense. She eyed him curiously.

"So, did you ...?

"I made time," he said, knowing where she was headed, "after that first night I saw you." He shrugged.

"Why me?" she asked, knowing it sounded silly, but also knowing how much the other girls wanted Dr. Matt and how they chased him — and had chased him for several years.

"I've never been to the club three times in one week before." His eyes bored into hers, sending a message she couldn't misunderstand.

She could feel her skin heating, tingling, her nipples hardening, that very unfamiliar feeling between her legs. She didn't know what would happen next but she was ready for it, whatever it was. She bit her lower lip and was sure her nose was flaring with her breathing. She wanted to be grabbed, held ... and whatever happened after that. She'd done some of that before, but she'd never felt like this.

"Would you like some wine?" he asked, a total change of expression on his face.

She was ready for anything ... but that. What the hell?

"Okay," she said huskily, her voice still where the rest of her had been seconds ago.

"Chardonnay, of course," he said, moving past her and toward what had to be the kitchen. She heard a refrigerator door open and close, a cabinet door bang, the tinkle of glassware bumping together. He was back, handing her a glass of the light amber liquid.

She took a sip, thinking of what he had said and what he had done ... or rather hadn't done. She was ready. She wanted him. The look he'd given her said he wanted her. Another sip of wine, questions whirring through her brain. What had happened? What had changed? Was it her? She drained her glass to his surprised look and held it out for more.

"Um," he said softly. "That was a surprise. You want some more?"

"Hell yes," she answered, sure the look on her face wasn't too inviting.

"What's wrong?"

"I didn't say anything was wrong, did I?" She looked away, out the window at the blowing snow ... and the cold air swirling there.

He stepped closer. "You didn't have to."

She was thinking. "What time is it?"

Matt glanced at his watch. "Five after eleven."

"Perfect," she snapped. "Bring me that glass of wine and I'll have a surprise for you." If Matt was backing away for whatever reason, maybe she had something that might encourage him.

He was quickly back, handed her the glass of wine, looking at her with a very puzzled countenance.