Studmuffin Santa Page 7

  That is a better question, so yank my phone out of my pocket and hit speed dial for Amber.

  “Yo!” She answers on the first ring. “Jeez, turn down that godawful music. And who’s moaning?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.” I look back at the screen and immediately wish I hadn’t. “Why is there porn on our website?”

  “What?” There’s a rustling on the other end of the line, followed by the clack of computer keys. “Where? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s on the ‘Get in touch,’ page.” I wait while she scrambles to get there.

  Brandon continues tapping at the keys, finally silencing the moans.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Who are you thanking?” Amber asks. “And what on earth—oh my God, I can’t unsee that.”

  Brandon frowns at the screen. “Maybe you should look away,” he whispers. “This next part with the pacifier is a little—uh—graphic.”

  “Why do you know this movie by heart?” I hiss.

  He grimaces. “A guy in my barracks had a serious porn habit. Believe me, I tried not to watch.”

  “Is that Brandon?” Amber asks. “You’re watching porn with Brandon?”

  “No, I’m not watching porn with Brandon,” I snap. “Not on purpose anyway. How the hell do we fix this? If someone’s kid clicks on our page—”

  “I know, I know, I’m on it,” Amber interrupts. “Okay, I just disabled the page. Hit refresh and tell me it’s gone.”

  I do what she says, more relieved than I’ve ever been to see a 404 error message. “It’s gone,” I tell her. “How did it get there in the first place?”

  “I have no idea,” she says. “I put the finishing touches on it last night and was waiting to surprise you with it after everyone went home.”

  “I couldn’t be more surprised if Dasher knocked on the front door and asked for Grey Poupon.”

  “Jade, you have to know I didn’t do this on purpose.”

  “I know, hon.” My sister may be the bake-risque-gingerbread-man kind of perv, but she’s not a post-porn-on-a-family-website kind of perv.

  It’s a fine distinction.

  “The site looks great,” I assure her. “Besides the porn, I mean.”

  “Look, I don’t have a clue how this happened, but I’ll figure it out,” Amber says. “In the meantime, I’ll change all the passwords and have the real page up again in ten minutes. You can check it out then, okay?”

  “Okay.” I glance at Brandon, who’s watching me oddly. “Thanks for taking care of that. And thanks for the surprise.”

  “Porn aside.”

  “It was educational.”

  I click to end the call and turn back to Brandon. “I guess I owe you some big thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “I never would have discovered that if you hadn’t told me to check out the website.”

  “That porn wasn’t there last night,” he says. “I definitely would have noticed.”

  I sigh and shove back from the computer. “I’m not super tech-savvy, but that kind of thing can’t just happen by accident, can it?”

  He hesitates a moment, then shakes his head. “I’m no web designer, but I don’t think so.” He folds his hands on the desk, copulating gingerbread men forgotten for now. “Can you think of anyone who’d want to mess with you?”

  I think back to my high school years. The locker room taunts from cheerleaders as I hunched in a sports bra and used my arms to hide my doughy midsection. The hoots from the lunchroom jocks when I made the mistake of getting in the pizza line instead of the one for salad.

  That’s all behind me, though, right?

  “No,” I say. “I haven’t had any trouble with anyone.”

  Not for a long time.

  “It seems sort of weird, don’t you think?” he asks.

  “What seems weird?”

  “Well, first you said someone left a gate open last week.”

  “Sure, but it could have been the wind or something.”

  Brandon takes a bite of cookie and continues. “You mentioned missing paperwork, when I know for a fact you’re the most organized person I’ve met.”

  “Sure, but—”

  “And you said someone keeps leaving the truck lights on, even though that’s not the sort of thing you’d forget,” he continues. “Plus, there’s this thing with the website.”

  I frown, wondering if he has a point. Wondering if I should have noticed a pattern sooner. “That seems a little paranoid to put all those things together.”

  “That seems a little suspicious to have them all happen in a week.”

  I chew my bottom lip, not liking where this is going. “Maybe,” I admit. “I still think it’s just a coincidence.”

  Brandon picks up another gingerbread pair and bites off a leg. At least I think it’s a leg. “We had a saying in the Marines,” he says. “Let’s break it down Barney style.”

  “Like the purple dinosaur?”

  “Bingo.” He bites off an arm and chews thoughtfully for a while. “Can you think of anyone who’d want to screw up your stuff?”

  I think about Stacey the first-grade teacher and the look she gave me when she thought Brandon and I might be dating. Would she be capable of something like that? Or any of the women who spent the afternoon draping themselves over his lap? Romantic rivalry can be a powerful motivator.

  I shake my head, pretty sure that’s not the answer. “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay…any interns or new-hires you don’t trust?”

  I pick at the coconut pubic hair, considering the question. “Just you.”

  He busts out laughing, sputtering cookie crumbs across my desk. He swipes at them with his arm, shaking his head as he regains his composure. “Can’t fault you for your honesty. I guess.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Just that you’re new and—well, different.”

  “You think I’m here to mess up your farm?”

  “No.” I shake my head, not sure why I said anything at all. “But I do think you’re a distraction.”

  “From what?”

  I sigh and press my fingers to my temples, wondering why I opened this can of worms. “I need to make Jingle Bell Reindeer Ranch a success.”

  “And you don’t think I’m helping with that?”

  He’s got me there. There’s no question that Brandon’s presence here has more than doubled the business we’d expected to see. I should be grateful for that. I should be thanking him. I should be down on my knees—

  Wait. Where was I going with that?

  I clear my throat. “I take this business pretty seriously,” I say. “And I do wonder if the novelty of Studmuffin Santa might wear off.”

  “Fair enough,” he says, not looking terribly offended.

  “It’s nothing personal,” I tell him. “I’m just considering the traditionalists. The folks who might not come if they hear Santa is a hot Marine instead of a jolly old grandpa. The success of this place rests on my shoulders, so I need to make smart decisions.”

  He nods and grabs another cookie. “I thought it was a sister act.”

  “It is, but I’m the big sister. That means I have a responsibility.”

  He bites an arm off an alarmingly well-endowed gingerbread man and leans back in his chair. “I get that. I’m an only child, but I’ve seen that with my cousins. The way they’re always looking out for each other. Sometimes when they don’t want someone looking out for them at all.”

  I think about the cousins and their crazy-expensive luxury ranch catering to the highest dollar.

  Looking out for themselves, I think but don’t say.

  “Let me help,” he says, and instantly I feel guilty for thinking unkind thoughts about his cousins.

  “Help how?”

  “I don’t like how things are adding up here,” he says. “Maybe I’m paranoid, but being super-cautious kept me from getting my face blown off more than once in combat.
”

  I scrape my thumb over a ridge in my desk, not liking the thought of Brandon in danger. “You don’t need to get involved.”

  “I’m already involved,” he says. “I’m Santa, remember?”

  “How could I forget?”

  “Let me keep an extra close eye on things,” he insists. “It’ll make me feel better knowing someone’s watching over you, keeping you safe.”

  “And you think that someone should be you?”

  “You got a better idea?”

  I don’t. In fact, I can think of no one on earth I’d rather have watching me than Brandon Brown.

  And that scares the ever lovin’ hell out of me.

  “Okay,” I say, nodding as I pick up a cookie. “But you have to let me pay you for extra time.”

  “We can negotiate.” He grins and grabs another cookie, making me wonder exactly what sort of bargain I’ve just made.

  Chapter 8

  BRANDON

  Temperatures are mild—both Jade and the weather—for the rest of the week, but it’s a relief to have her aware that I’m looking out for her. She may not know Amber started it, but at least I don’t have to pretend I’m not double-checking locks and keeping an extra-close watch over the animals.

  On Friday, I wake to a thick blanket of snow outside. I sit up in bed, blinking the way I have every morning I’ve woken up to find myself in a luxury cabin with billion-thread-count sheets and my own private hot tub.

  Helping my cousins finish their new resort has its perks.

  I slide out of bed and dress quickly, grateful I had the foresight to shower the night before. Reaching the lodge requires shoveling a twenty-foot long path through eight inches of snow, and I’m sweating by the time I get there.

  “Morning, cuz.”

  Sean greets me with a smile and a breakfast burrito, which he hands me before I’ve had a chance to sit down at one of the live-edge juniper tables that’s awaiting a final coat of lacquer.

  “Morning,” I say, nodding to the wall behind him. “Looks like you’ve got the bar all set up.”

  “Just about,” he says. “We’re still weeks away from the OLCC inspection, but I want to be ready.”

  Sean slides into the chair across from me as I bite into the warm tortilla stuffed with fluffy egg and roasted peppers and some kind of sausage that tastes like heaven. “So how’s the Santa life treating you?” he asks.

  “Fine,” I mumble through a mouthful of burrito. “My shift starts in a couple hours, but I think I’ll head out early and see if they need help moving snow.”

  My cousin gives me a knowing look and takes a slug of coffee. “You sure the boss ladies don’t have anything to do with you wanting to spend more time out there?”

  I consider bullshitting him, and maybe I could get away with it. It’s not like we were that close as kids, since he and the rest of them grew up in East Coast boarding schools. But any time Uncle Cort came out here to check out his ranch, he’d bring one of the kids. There was a summer my folks were fighting a lot, which meant I spent many nights sharing a bunk bed with Sean. That’s probably why he’s the one I feel closest to out here.

  “Maybe,” I admit. “It’s dumb, but I keep thinking about her. That smile, the way her hair smells like gingerbread, how she doesn’t take any crap from anyone. And those eyes, my God—”

  “I hear ya,” he says, grinning. “I’m a sucker for brown eyes, too.”

  “Brown?” I frown at my cousin. “What the hell are you talking about? Jade’s eyes are blue.”

  “Oh.” He looks weirdly relieved. “You’re hot for Jade?”

  “You thought I was talking about the other sister?”

  He shrugs and picks up his coffee mug. “Let’s just say I’ve had a thing for Amber since I was a kid.”

  “I didn’t realize you even knew her,” I say.

  “I don’t,” he admits, rubbing his palm over a knothole on the edge of the table. “Not really. Which is probably why she’s destined to stay my dream girl.”

  “You’re weird.”

  Sean snorts into his coffee. “Oh, speaking of weird, that Stacey chick stopped by for you again yesterday.”

  “Stacey Fleming?”

  “Yeah. She asked if you were dating anybody.” I must look alarmed, because Sean holds up a hand. “Don’t worry, I said you’d been seeing someone.”

  “You did?”

  “You said you’re not interested, right? In Stacey, I mean. That seemed kinder than telling her to get lost.”

  “I see your point.”

  Sean takes a sip of his coffee while I dump more salsa on my breakfast burrito.

  “She said something about Jade,” Sean says.

  “Stacey did?”

  He nods. “Yeah. I don’t know if she assumed that’s who you’re dating or—”

  “What did she say about Jade?”

  Sean looks thoughtful as he takes another sip from his mug. “She made this offhand comment about Jade not being fat anymore. I asked what she meant, and she said Jade was kinda chubby in school. That kids gave her kind of a hard time about it.”

  “Jade?” That can’t be right. “She’s like the fiercest woman I know. Who’d be dumb enough to pick on her?”

  Sean shrugs. “Could be that’s what made her fierce.”

  Could be. Or maybe Stacey’s full of crap. I pick at my breakfast burrito and wonder which it is.

  “Anyway, I don’t think Jade’s interested in me,” I tell him. “She’s pretty focused on getting her business up and running.”

  “Not to mention you don’t have a reputation for sticking around.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugs and fiddles with a sugar packet in the middle of the table. “I hear things,” he says. “From the construction crew guys you went to high school with. You had quite the reputation.”

  I’m almost afraid to ask. No, I am afraid to ask. “I dated a lot of girls in high school,” I admit. “But Christ, that was thirteen years ago.”

  He shrugs. “None of my business. But for some people, it takes a long time to get over all the teenage shit.”

  “Huh.” I don’t have anything more clever to say, so I shove the last bite of breakfast burrito in my mouth and wash it down with coffee. “I like to think I’ve had time to grow up since then.”

  “I think we all hope for that,” he says. He stands up and claps me on the shoulder, then pushes his chair in. “I’ve gotta run. See you later tonight?”

  “Yeah. I’ll help you guys install those cabinets in the Larch cabin if you want.”

  “Sounds good.” He turns and walks out of the room, stomping his feet in the snow as the door shuts behind him.

  I mull his words as I wash my breakfast dishes and put them away. How much did my high school experiences shape who I turned out to be? Probably a lot, I have to admit. I wonder if the same is true for Jade.

  I drive to the reindeer ranch in a mist of snowflakes, careful to keep my speed down and my eyes open for patches of black ice.

  I know something’s wrong the instant I turn in to the ranch driveway. Maybe it’s the fact that there is no driveway.

  It’s covered in a thick layer of snow, untouched by plow or snow-thrower, despite the fact that they open in less than an hour.

  A couple hundred feet away, I spot Jade at the top of the drive with a shovel. Her head is down, and her red parka is bright against the glittery snowfield behind her. There’s a small mountain of snow to her right, but the length of a football field ahead of her down the driveway.

  I ease closer, grateful for the truck’s four-wheel-drive. Jade looks up as I approach, her cheeks flushed with exertion.

  “Don’t tell me you’re trying to shovel this whole driveway by hand,” I say.

  Jade grits her teeth and blows a damp hank of hair off her face. “Our plow truck won’t start, and I can’t find anyone else who can get out here with a blade before we open,” she says.

  Alarm ratt
les through me, and I resist the urge to ask questions. To point out this is one more mysterious thing to go wrong at the ranch. That’s not helpful right now.

  “Don’t you have a snow blower?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “It won’t start, either. I have no idea how—”

  “I’ve got it,” I tell her. “Go shovel the walks or deal with the reindeer or something, and I’ll take care of the driveway.”

  I flip a U-turn before she has a chance to argue, but I see her standing there with a befuddled expression in my rearview mirror.

  It takes me five minutes to get back to my cousins’ place, and less than thirty seconds to convince Sean to let me borrow the plow truck. Only fifteen minutes have passed since I left Jade standing here, and already she’s made an impressive dent in the walkways.

  She looks up when she sees me, and the relief on her face makes me feel like a damn hero.

  “Brandon,” she says as I finish the first pass and angle the blade to shove a thick slab of snow to the side. “I can’t believe you did this. Thank you.”

  “No problem,” I tell her. “You want the next pile over there?”

  “At the edge of the parking lot would be perfect,” she says. “Amber had this idea about making snowmen or igloos or something with the kids.”

  “I’ll do my best not to dredge up too much gravel.”

  She shakes her head, her expression somewhere between gratitude and exhaustion. “You’re amazing.”

  I’ll admit it, this isn’t the first time I’ve heard someone say that. But it’s the first time the words have really socked me in the gut. “You’re welcome,” I say, and return to plowing.

  The snow is thick and soupy, filled with early-season moisture. The driveway takes longer than expected, but we’re still doing okay on time when I’m finished with the parking lot. By the time I’ve parked the rig and gotten out, Jade is standing on the freshly shoveled walkway, conferring with Amber.

  “The disability codes say we need to shovel almost twice this wide for all the walkways,” Jade is saying. “And we still have to get everyone fed and harnessed for the display.”