We Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

“Oh.”

“Can I come in?”

She hesitated, seeming embarrassed, but finally motioned him inside. “Of course. I was just doing some housecleaning. The kids are with Terry for a few days, so I thought I’d get some things done around here.” She stripped off a pair of yellow rubber gloves. “Can I get you a drink?”

Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing a simple tank top and denim shorts without shoes, but she looked even prettier than she had in her dress. Her firm, well-toned legs seemed to go on forever, and her skin, slightly damp with sweat, looked creamy and soft.

Cole tried not to notice that there was anything appealing about her. Jackie represented Feld and everything he’d escaped there.

“No thanks, I’m good,” he said, moving past her.

The house was filled with old mismatched furniture, but it was clean. And it smelled like Jaclyn, a little earthy and definitely feminine, despite the hint of Lysol coming from the gloves she’d cast aside. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, Cole liked the smell. It reminded him of meadows and brooks and warm summer days. But from the looks of things, Jaclyn hadn’t gotten a very big divorce settlement.

More bad news.

“You renting?” he asked.

She surprised him with a grin. “You think I’d buy this dump?”

“Beats a trailer.” He smiled back, remembering, in spite of himself, the first time he’d ever seen her. She’d been sitting in his English class at the beginning of his senior year, and just the sight of her had thrown his boyish heart into overdrive. She had to be the only girl who’d ever made his palms sweat. Of course, that was before he knew she was a cheerleader, vice-president of the Honor Society, and captain of the debate team—exactly the type of girl who would never be interested in a tough, poor boy who missed as many days of school as he attended.

For a moment, the memories of Feld threatened to swallow him up again, but he focused on what Jaclyn was saying and pushed them aside.

“I wanted the kids to have somewhere to ride their bikes and set up a lemonade stand and run through the sprinklers,” she said. “The neighborhood’s not as bad as it looks, really. Mostly old folks on a pension.” She sank into a seat across from him. “Of course, my three kids spice things up a bit.”

“I bet.” Cole noted that most of the pictures on the walls were crayon drawings, and wondered what Jaclyn’s kids were like. After raising his brothers, he swore he’d never have any children of his own. He’d had enough of that kind of responsibility. But he’d bet Jaclyn’s were cuter than most. Not that he wanted to meet them. He planned to offer Jaclyn the money she needed to get on her feet, and move on.

He cleared his throat. “I guess you know why I’m here.”

She stared down at the threadbare carpet. “You found out I was fired yesterday.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you didn’t need to come.”

She smiled, making another valiant effort to act as if she was fine, but Cole noticed how her hands fisted in her lap.

“Now that I’m on my own, I’d better get used to the ups and downs of it, don’t you think?”

“How bad are things?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “They’re fine. I’m fine—”

“Jackie, I didn’t come here for more of your stiff-upper-lip routine. I’m willing to help you, but I can’t do that unless I know what you need.”

“What I need?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I need to go back twelve years, get a college education and not marry Terry. That’s what I need.” She paused. “You once warned me against doing exactly what I did. Do you remember?”

He remembered. He also remembered he’d warned her against Terry because he wanted her himself. He’d had plenty of girls following him home from school and coming on to him at dances, and Rochelle calling him night and day, but Jaclyn was the one he’d dreamed about. “I was just a dumb kid. I don’t know why I said what I did,” he lied.

She folded her arms and leaned back. “Still, I wish I’d listened. Except, my children are great. I don’t regret them.”

The telephone rang, and she put up a hand to indicate she’d be right back. She carried the cordless phone into the kitchen to talk, but Cole could easily hear her, even though he stood and tried to amuse himself by figuring out what the pictures on her walls were supposed to be.

“What do you want now?…No, I didn’t say that. I said she’d have to have her birthday party here…That place is too expensive, Terry, you know it is…Why do you always have to ruin everything for me?…Listen, I can’t talk about this now because someone’s here…Cole Perrini. You remember him, don’t you? We went to school with him…What…?

She lowered her voice until Cole could barely hear her, but now that he’d heard his name, he strained to catch the rest.

“I can’t believe you just said that. We’re not doing anything. You have no right to even ask me that! Cole and I have never so much as kissed…Are the kids there? Did you just say that in front of Alex?…Forget it. I’m hanging up, Terry…”

Finally, in one frustrated-sounding burst, she said, “Well, he wouldn’t have to be very good to be better than you.” Then she hung up, leaving Cole wondering what he wouldn’t have to be very good at. On the heels of her previous words, his imagination certainly presented some interesting possibilities. But they were possibilities he refused to entertain, because he knew that anything physical with Jackie would come at a price higher than he was willing to pay. He’d already raised all the kids he was going to raise. He wouldn’t go through that hell again. And he’d already learned that marriage didn’t suit him, either.

“Sorry about that,” she said, returning.

“No problem. I’ve got to get going, anyway.” He stood and opened his mouth to offer her the money he’d intended to give. He wanted to write her a check and be on his way. He didn’t want to look back. But deep down he knew it couldn’t be that easy. A woman with Jackie’s pride wouldn’t accept charity. So he did exactly what he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do, and offered her the job she’d asked for, instead.

“I thought you didn’t have anything,” she said.

“Well, it won’t be much to start with. You’ll just have to fill in wherever we need you, and eventually we’ll get you into the sales end of things. Once you get your license and some training, you can work anywhere.”

Scowling, she said, “Cole, don’t do this if—”

“Everyone needs a little help sooner or later, Jackie. When I came to Reno, there was a man who helped me get my start in real estate.” His mentor. The one person who’d buoyed him up when he thought he’d drowned in responsibility. “I’m just passing on the favor. Besides, this isn’t a handout. You’ll work for your money. The position pays twenty-five hundred a month plus benefits. Can you get by on that?”

She nodded eagerly. “When do you want me to start?”

“Tomorrow, if you can.”

A smile curved her lips. With hair falling from her ponytail in wispy strands, and hope and relief lighting her eyes, she looked incredibly attractive. She sure hadn’t changed much since high school. Deep down Cole feared neither of them had changed enough. She no longer made his palms sweat, but she did strange things to his chest and caused a strong response in regions a little lower.

“I’ll be there,” she promised, then surprised him by standing on tiptoe to give him a quick hug. “Thanks, Cole. I’ll do a good job for you,” she murmured.

At least, that was what he thought she said. All he knew was that suddenly his nostrils were full of the scent of her, and his arms were full of the feel of her, and he could no longer regret hiring her.

He even thought about giving her a raise.

CHAPTER FOUR

THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING,not on my first day! Jaclyn glanced at her watch, cringed when she saw she had only ten minutes until she was supposed to report at Perrini Homes, and frantically pumped the gas pedal of her Mercury Sable.

Come on, baby, start. Start!

The engine whined and chugged more slowly than before, then fell completely silent. Another turn of the ignition key caused nothing but a clicking sound. Her battery was dead. She’d have to go to the neighbor’s and ask for a jump.

“Of all the blasted times,” she muttered, getting out and trudging to Mr. Alder’s next door. Careful to protect her best suit from the automatic sprinklers watering his lawn, she kept to the far side of the concrete walkway until she reached the porch, then gave his front door a hearty knock.

No one answered. She pounded two more times and had nearly given up in favor of Mrs. Lavender’s across the street, when Mr. Alder finally opened up, wearing a tattered terry-cloth robe. He gazed at her in surprise, his white hair sticking up on all sides, the pattern of crumpled bedding imprinted on one whiskery cheek.

“Is it garbage day?” he asked.