Kissing Santa, A Clover Park Novella (Clover Park, Book 4) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) (6 page)

He set his guitar aside and crossed to her, ready to apologize, but she was still coming at him, jabbing him in the chest. Somehow the Spanish made it worse. Like she was under his skin speaking his language. She didn’t look Mexican. Sure, she had dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, but her skin was so light. She must take after her father.

She finally finished.

They stared at each other.

“Samantha,” he started.

She blew out a breath. “Just take me home.”

He wished he could start over with a different song, but truthfully, all his songs were about Jamie. It was his one true heartbreak. But that was fifteen years ago. He’d seen Jamie at their ten-year high school reunion, and she was married with three kids. And hadn’t that backfired on him, going into that reunion all hopeful and shit, thinking after all this time they might pick up where they’d left off. He pushed thoughts of Jamie away. That part of his life was done. And Samantha was the first woman he’d thought of as more than a quick lay in a very long time.

“Samantha, I’m sorry. It was just a song. Jamie doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.”

“Then why do you sing about her?”

He lifted one shoulder up and down.

How could he explain that he hadn’t had any serious relationships since then? She’d think he was pathetic—hung up on the memory of his ex for years. Keeping things light and easy with the ladies was better than getting his heart broken. He figured she’d see that as a bad thing too, calling him a player, which he was. But somehow with Samantha he didn’t want to be like that. He wanted to live up to her Prince Charming dreams. Maybe she could tell him how to fix it, the way she told him how to get closer to her in the first place.

Samantha shook her head in disgust.

“Is there anything I can do to fix tonight?” he asked. “Anything Prince Charming might do?”

“Why? So you can get me into bed?”

Yes!

The fire burning in her eyes made him hold his tongue. It wasn’t happening tonight.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”

She grabbed her purse and coat and left. He followed her out and practically had to run to keep up with her.

He opened the truck door for her and couldn’t help checking her out as she climbed in. He wanted her so bad he could taste it. Man, he’d really screwed up tonight. He should’ve insisted on meeting her mother on their first date. Then he would’ve known she was Mexican. Or he should’ve listened when his mother went on and on about the wonderful Dixon family and their perfect daughter Samantha. He hadn’t thought it would matter back then. Now it did. A lot.

He had to write some songs not about Jamie and fast. Maybe something about the beautiful Samantha. He started the truck.

“And don’t try any more of that Prince Charming stuff when we both know who you really are,” she said in a choked voice.

“Samantha—”

“Just…don’t.”

He shut up. He knew he wasn’t a prince, but damn if he didn’t want to be for her.

~ ~ ~

That night, after he dropped off Samantha, Rico did something he’d never done before—he called his oldest sister, Maria, for woman advice. She was like a second mother, only much more in touch with the younger generation than his own mother.

“Hey, Maria,” he said when she answered. “It’s me.”

“What’s wrong?” Her concern made it easier for him to spill his guts. She always could read his moods.

The sad truth was he knew how to seduce a woman, but he had no clue what to do outside of the bedroom. His time with Jamie had been filled with her going to his varsity baseball games, his garage band rehearsals, his job at the mall. It struck him for the first time that Jamie had fit into his life with absolutely no effort on his part. No wonder he was clueless.

“I need some woman advice,” he admitted.

“Ricky!” Maria exclaimed. “You finally met a special someone. Who’s the lucky woman?”

He ground his teeth. He’d told everyone to call him Rico not Ricky way back when he was twelve. His sisters just loved to make him feel like the little baby bro. He was thirty-three, for crying out loud.

“Samantha,” he said. The name rolled off his tongue. It was a beautiful name.

“Samantha. Now why does that name sound familiar?”

Probably because Samantha was all his mother could talk about for the rest of Thanksgiving. But he didn’t want her putting two and two together and bringing their mother into his love life. Again.

“Don’t know,” he said. “So I found out she’s really into, you know, romance.” He searched for the right words. What had Samantha said when she was confessing her dreams to him? “A sweet romance like in the movies.”

“And you have no clue.”

“I have a clue. Just not the right one.” He told her about the flowers and the ice-skating date that ended badly with the unfortunate miscommunication during his serenade.

“Wait a minute. Samantha was the one Mom set you up with. Of course she speaks Spanish, you moron!” He pulled the phone away from his ear at her volume. “Do you really think Mom’s gonna set you up with someone that doesn’t know how to speak Spanish to her grandbabies?”

That again? He wasn’t looking to reproduce. He rubbed the back of his neck. He just wanted to look more like a prince in Samantha’s eyes. Something about her made him want to try a little harder.

“So what do I do?” he asked.

“She wants a romance like in the movies, then you should watch some romantic movies.”

“That’s it? Just watch some movies?”

“Watch and learn, Ricky.”

“Which ones?”

“Oh, there’s so many. Did she say which movies are her favorites?”

His shoulders slumped. “No.”

“All right. Start with
Pretty Woman
. Ooh,
When Harry Met Sally
is so good too and
Sleepless in Seattle
. That’s a good start.”

He grabbed a pen and scribbled the titles down on the back of a take-out menu. “Okay, thanks. I’ll see if I can find them.”

“Try streaming them or look on demand. They’re mostly older movies. You should be able to get them. Call me if you have any questions.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I won’t have any questions.”

“This is deep stuff. Give it some thought after you watch, okay?”

“All right, thanks.”

“Good luck.”

He hung up and found
Pretty Woman
on demand. He was fifteen minutes in and scratching his head. Was his sister crazy? This woman was a prostitute. How was this supposed to help him with Samantha?

His cell rang, and he grabbed it. “Rico.”

“So you need love advice and you call Maria instead of me.” It was his other sister, Elena.

“Uh…” He hit pause on the movie.

“You know she’s been with Steve since high school. She knows
nothing
. I have experience.”

“Okay, Miss Experience. Maria told me to watch
Pretty Woman
, but this woman—”

“Figures. She told you all old movies, didn’t she? Let me tell you what the
modern
woman wants.”

Elena was only two years younger than Maria, but Elena always had a chip on her shoulder about who knew more about the important things in life.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“Try watching
Juno
,
How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days
…are you writing this down?”

He grabbed a pen and scribbled quickly around the margins of the take-out menu. “Yeah. Wait.
Lose
a guy?”

“Trust me.”

“If you say so.” Women were a complete mystery, but he trusted her, so he went with it.

“
Say Anything,
that’s the name of the movie,” Elena went on. “It’s old but a classic.
Lady and the Tramp
.”

“Isn’t that a cartoon?”

“Then you should be able to understand it.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, little bro, but when it comes to women, you’re still a beginner. I hope this woman helps you mature.”

“I am mature!”

“Good luck, buddy.”

She hung up, and he went back to
Pretty Woman
. He remained puzzled until the end when the guy climbed her fire escape, bearing roses and overcoming his fear of heights. That he could understand. It was like
Romeo and Juliet
plus bravery. He wrote that little gem down: climb fire escape with roses. He didn’t have a fear of heights, but he could pretend.

He watched
Juno
next and wrote: fill mailbox with orange Tic Tacs.

By Sunday night, he’d watched all the recommended movies. From what he could tell, romance was like putting on a show. A performance in honor of the woman. And, it seemed, once you won them over, everything was golden.

He felt fully prepared to win Samantha over.

~ ~ ~

Samantha took her usual lunch break on Monday with a stop at the mailbox. She wondered if they’d start getting Christmas cards soon. It was only the first week of December, but there were always some early birds that whipped them out the day after Thanksgiving. She was still designing one for her family. Maybe she’d do a collage with the four seasons. She pulled open the mailbox, and an avalanche of orange Tic Tacs spilled out. “Ah!”

She jumped back in surprise. What the hell? How many little plastic boxes did it take to fill that mailbox? Who would do that? Was some teenager playing pranks in the neighborhood? She stared at the Tic Tacs all over what remained of the snow on the ground. She shook some off her boots and peeked into the mailbox. Was there any mail under there? There was a white envelope.

She pulled it out. No stamp. No return address. This was getting a little creepy. She looked up and down the street for any strange cars hovering nearby. Nothing out of the usual. Slowly, she opened the envelope and read the scrawled note.

Samantha,

Third time’s the charm. Dinner Wednesday night? I’ll pick you up at seven. Call me if you DON’T want to go. Sorry about that song. I’m working on a new one just for you.

Rico

Samantha stared at the note. He was writing a song just for her? No one had ever written her a song.

Still, she wasn’t so sure a third date was a good idea. The other two had ended very badly. And nothing had changed, really. He was still a player.

She shook her head at the Tic Tac mess. She didn’t even like orange Tic Tacs. She liked the white ones.

It was weird, she thought as she went inside for a bag to clean up the mess, but she had to give him points for originality.

Chapter Six

A dozen roses tucked inside his leather jacket, Rico hauled a ladder to the back of Samantha’s house on Wednesday night. He was going to
Pretty Woman
her. She’d called and told him not to stop by, but had that stopped Romeo from visiting his Juliet? No, it had not. If there was one thing he’d learned from all those movies, it was that the guy didn’t give up that easy.

Her parents didn’t have a fire escape, but he thought the ladder should accomplish the same thing. He wasn’t sure which bedroom was Samantha’s. He saw a light on in one room and a shadow of someone moving around in there. Good enough.

Luckily most of the snow had melted from the couple of inches they’d gotten two days ago. He propped the ladder up, made sure it was stable, and began to climb. He wasn’t afraid of heights like that guy in the movie, but maybe he could pretend he was to make it even more meaningful. He made it to the top and pulled the roses from his jacket.

Tap, tap, tap
. He waited patiently for Samantha to answer his signal. He tapped again. The window shade flew up, and a petite Mexican woman appeared, took one look at him, and screamed bloody murder.

He startled and nearly lost his balance as the ladder wobbled. His heart raced. If he fell off this ladder, he’d likely end up in the hospital with multiple broken bones. The ladder steadied, and he tried to get her to stop screaming.

“It’s Rico,” he called through the window. “You know my mother.”

She narrowed her eyes and slowly reached for something.

“It’s Rico!
Mi madre es su amiga
.”

She got closer.
Mierda
. She had a wooden bat and looked like she was fully prepared to use it.

He tried again, yelling through the glass. “
Mi madre
—”

She pulled up the sash just a crack.

“Don’t hurt me,” he said. “It’s Rico. You know my mother.
Mi madre
—”

“Rico del Toro?” she asked.

He blew out a breath of relief as the bat lowered. “Yes.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m being romantic. I thought this was Samantha’s room.”

A big grin split her face. “Don’t go nowhere, Rico del Toro.”

“Uh, okay.” This was not going like in the movies.

A few minutes later, Samantha appeared with her mother at her side. His heart did a weird stutter.

“See?” her mother said, pointing at him. “Romantic.”

Samantha rushed to the window. “What are you doing here? I told you not to come.”

“Sam!” her mother chided.

“I’m overcoming my fear of heights to give you roses.” He gestured for her to open the window more, and he slid them in.

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “You didn’t have to overcome your fear of heights for me.”

Her mother tsked. “What do you say to the nice young man?”

“Thank you,” Samantha said. Her brows furrowed, and she just kept staring at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was.

“Come in through the front door,” her mother said. “We’ve been wanting to meet you.”

He nodded. Mission accomplished. He made his way down the ladder, glad he was getting the hang of this whole romance thing.

~ ~ ~

Samantha put the roses in a vase, musing over the fact that he’d given her roses twice now. It was so weird the way he showed up here tonight even after she left a message on his voice mail politely declining the dinner invitation. Had her mother put him up to this?

She peeked out the front window as he put the ladder in the back of his truck. They’d never even talked about his fear of heights before. It was kinda cool that he conquered his fear just to give her flowers.