Page 15 of One Night on the Naughty List

Samantha

I’d spent three hours worrying about meeting Bain’s family. Over the next three hours, I realized all that worry was for nothing. The Thatchers were a large clan, but they were also a welcoming one—if a little noisy.

About a minute after walking in the door, one of Bain’s sisters-in-law pressed a peppermint margarita into my hand and gestured to a group of attractive women seated around a roaring fireplace in the great room. “Come sit with us. We want to hear Bain stories.”

One of the women hollered, “The more embarrassing, the better!”

Before I knew it, I was three margaritas deep, dishing gossip with new friends, and laughing as Bain and his brothers maneuvered a ladder into the house so they could put a star on top of the tree. So far, they had dented their mother’s drywall, knocked over a nutcracker, and took out a tray of sugar cookies.

As I sipped my drink, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and found Ella next to my chair, a solemn look on her small, round face.

“Ella?” I set my drink down. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“You’re not wearing red.”

I glanced down. Crap. With all the commotion—and a generous amount of tequila—I forgot about changing my clothes.

Her voice quivered. “How can you be Santa’s Helper if you’re not wearing red?”

Bain caught my gaze, clearly ready to intervene, but inspiration struck. I smiled at Ella. “Sometimes Santa’s Helpers have to travel in disguise. But I brought my red outfit with me.”

She seemed to think it over. “Why haven’t you changed?”

Damn. Kids were hard.

Bain crossed the room and knelt next to her. “Because she was waiting for Santa. But he’s supposed to be here in about…” He looked at me, a question in his eyes.

“Five minutes,” I said.

He smiled, then turned his attention back to Ella. “Can you do me a really big favor? A super important one?”

She gave a vigorous nod.

“Go gather all the other kids and tell them Santa will be here in five minutes.”

She was gone before he finished his sentence. A second later, her loud shrieks echoed through the house. As the adults chuckled, Bain helped me to my feet. “Follow me, Santa’s Helper.”

I could feel everyone’s eyes on us as we left the room. Or maybe the tingling on my scalp and the heat running like a warm current through my body was a direct result of being close to Bain as he led me through the house and up a grand staircase with a polished banister.

“The house is beautiful,” I said, running my hand up the smooth wood.

We gained the landing, and he put a palm in the small of my back, guiding me down a hallway lined with doors. “It’s too big for Mom, but she won’t hear about moving. Ah, here we go.” He ushered me into a bedroom with a twin bed and a bookcase groaning with trophies. My bag sat on the floor at the foot of the bed.

I did a quick spin. “Is this—”

“My old room, yeah.” He put a hand on the back of his head and scrubbed his nape, his demeanor almost shy. “It’s really more of a time capsule, actually. I’m surprised my baby book isn’t in here.”

“I wish it was. Bain baby pictures would be some seriously good blackmail material.”

He laughed. “Sorry, but you’ll have to make do with me in a Santa costume.” He raised an eyebrow. “Change and meet me in the hall in five minutes?”

My blood pressure spiked. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine feeling a sweep of lust over a rendezvous with Santa, but there I was, struggling to play it cool while my nipples tightened and my breath caught. I could still feel the imprint of Bain’s hand in my lower back—as if his touch was a brand that seeped straight through my clothes to my skin.

“Yes,” I managed to say. “Five minutes.”

His blue eyes held mine, his gaze steady. “Five minutes, then,” he said softly.

I held my breath until he left, then let it all out in a rush that ruffled the hair at my temples. I’d planned to do something fancy with my curls, but there was no way I was going to risk being half-naked when he knocked on the door. Moving quickly, I stripped off my clothes. In bra and panties, I went to my bag and pulled out the dress the woman at the mall said was “tailor made” for my body type.

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