Brenda Novak

We Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus


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five new model homes open to public viewing. The golf course was less than a quarter of a mile away.

      Wow, she thought, squinting against the rising sun to better see Cole’s houses. They were big and made mostly of brick. Steeply gabled roofs, dormers with black shutters and lots of white-paned windows gave the development a Georgian grace that was definitely unusual for Nevada, but classy. Very classy.

      “You’re certainly not sparing any expense, Cole,” she murmured to herself, noting the expansive yards, recently groomed to perfection with brand-new landscaping and white, split-rail fences. She’d driven around the neighborhood when she’d first entered the development, and knew there were at least fifty homes in varying stages of construction on a maze of streets and cul-de-sacs. She suddenly felt foolish for having asked Cole if he was still driving semis. Evidently he’d come a long way since then.

      Her heels clicked on the aggregate walkway that led up to the first home, set apart from the row of models by a fancy stone fence with Oak Ranch Estates by Perrini Homes carved into it. A sign on the house labeled it as the office. Another sign in the window said Closed.

      Jaclyn stood on the front stoop, wishing she could turn around and go home. But she wasn’t about to lose her nerve now. Someone would be coming shortly. If Cole could afford to hire a real-estate agent for thirty-six thousand dollars a year, maybe he could afford a secretary to run errands and type and file for far less than that. Then she could learn the business, get a start and she hoped, become a real-estate agent someday. Showing homes was something she thought she might be good at. At least it was a job with a future.

      A light glowed inside the house, but for all Jaclyn knew it had been on all night. She tucked a strand of fallen hair into the knot at the back of her head, fidgeted with her purse and watched the street for an approaching car. Then she glanced at her watch. Seven-fifty. Ten minutes more and surely someone would—

      The door swung open behind her and a tall, long-legged man in jeans and a clean T-shirt nearly bowled her over on his way out.

      “Whoa! Sorry about that!” he said, catching her before she landed in the flower bed. “I wasn’t expecting anyone so early. You okay?”

      “I’m fine. Didn’t mean to surprise you.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m looking for Cole Perrini. Could you tell me where I might find him?”

      He rubbed his brow and frowned. “I think he might have forgotten you. He didn’t mention having an appointment this morning.”

      “We don’t have an appointment.”

      The newspaper sticking out of the side pocket of her purse caught his attention. “Are you here about the sales position?”

      She nodded.

      “Well, you’re free to wait inside, if you want. Cole lives here. Kinda convenient, since he works all the time, you know? But the phone rang just as I was leaving, and once Cole gets on a call, he can stay on it for hours. You might want to try the number in the ad and set an appointment. I think Rick’s doing the interviewing.”

      “Thanks, but I’m sort of an old friend of Cole’s. I was hoping I could talk to him.”

      Mild surprise lit his features. “Oh, yeah? I’m Cole’s brother, Chad.” He stuck out a big hand, one with plenty of calluses and scars, and Jaclyn took it, feeling heartened by his friendly welcome.

      “I’m Jaclyn.” She didn’t offer a surname, and he didn’t ask for one.

      “It’s nice to meet you.”

      “You sure look like your brother,” she said, noting his wide shoulders, muscular arms and narrow hips. Chad didn’t have a cleft in his chin, but he had the same raw masculinity as Cole, plus a couple of dimples that made him appear more fun-loving, if not more reckless.

      “He’s only half as good-lookin’ as me,” he teased, holding the door open for her. “Go on in and make yourself comfortable. Rick’ll be here shortly, so even if you don’t see Cole right away, you’ll get to talk to someone soon.”

      He dipped his head in final greeting and strode off, leaving Jaclyn to search her brain for some kind of memory of him as the door banged shut. Cole had lots of brothers, she wasn’t sure how many—four? five?—but they were all younger, and a high school girl didn’t take particular notice of grade-school-aged boys. She couldn’t place Chad and doubted she’d recognize any of the others, either.

      Slipping into one of two modern chairs facing an expensive-looking desk, Jaclyn felt her tension start to mount again in the silence and willed herself to relax.

      No sooner had she taken a deep breath than Cole came rushing down the hall from the back, holding what looked like a set of plans and wearing nothing but a towel around his hips.

      “Chad! Wait!” he hollered. His hair was wet, like the rest of him, and dripping on the carpet, but he seemed to care only about catching his brother. Flinging the door open wide, he called after Chad again, but Jaclyn knew he’d missed his intended target when he cursed and pulled it shut again.

      Then he saw her.

      “Jackie?” His voice revealed his surprise.

      Jaclyn jumped hastily to her feet, bumping her knee on the corner of the desk in the process but purposely swallowing the accompanying grunt of pain. “Hi, Cole,” she managed to say, staring at all six feet two inches of nearly naked male. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to catch you in the shower.”

      She tried to keep her eyes on his face, but it was impossible to avoid noting the lean, muscular build that started with bare feet and long legs and ended with an expansive chest sparingly covered in dark swirls of hair and a set of impressive shoulders. It was the thought, however, of what was hidden by the towel that rattled her the most. She hadn’t seen a man this close to naked in over a year—and a year suddenly seemed like a very long time.

      He looked down as though only now realizing that he wasn’t fully clothed. But he must have considered himself modest enough, because he certainly didn’t run for cover. “What are you doing here?” he asked, instead.

      Jaclyn forced herself to stand tall and brave a smile. She didn’t want him to know how difficult this was for her, how badly coming to him hurt her pride. “I just thought…well…” She indicated the paper she’d brought. “I saw your ad and thought I’d come over and…”

      “Apply?” He frowned, his gaze traveling over her blue linen sheath dress and conservative shoes—an expensive outfit she’d bought while she was still married—before returning to her face. “You’re a real-estate agent?”

      Jaclyn swallowed hard, using every ounce of determination she possessed to keep her smile firmly in place. “Not exactly. I don’t have my license…yet. I just thought maybe you could use a good secretary or something. You know, someone to run errands for you, do some typing—” her voice started to fade away, and she cleared her throat so she could finish strong “—answer phones, anything like that. I’m a hard worker and a fast learner,” she added quickly.

      “I’m sure you are, but…” He let his breath go in a soft hiss and ran a hand through his wet hair, shoving it back off his forehead. “What about your other job, at Joanna’s?”

      The story of her firing, and his part in it, hovered on the tip of Jaclyn’s tongue. But the memory of his fifty-dollar tip stopped her from telling it. If Cole had pitied her yesterday, what would he feel today, when he found out she’d lost even that sorry job?

      “Well, Joanna’s is just a stop-gap, really,” she heard herself saying. “A way to bring in some extra money and get out of the house.” She laughed, praying he’d buy into her little charade, because she couldn’t face the knowing in his eyes if he didn’t.

      “I may keep it, for weekends,” she went on, “but I need something more…challenging. There’re lots of interesting jobs in the paper, though.” She patted it as if to convince him. “So if you don’t have anything,