Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
NOELLE
“It is possible to have a Santa fetish?” I ask Donna two hours later, so distracted that I tie a ribbon not only to the present I just wrapped but also around the straps of my purse lying on the the break room table, which doubles as our wrapping station.
“Depends. Is the Santa you’re fantasizing about blue, have horns, and doesn’t know how to smile?”
“Oh, I see you’ve met Nikkov.”
“He’s cute, in a blue, horned kind of way.” Donna peeks out to where our new Santa is repairing the toys he broke. He’s making good progress. In fact, some of the toys look better than when we first wrapped them.
Wrapping… Fuck. My gaze snaps to my pile shoved to the side, their candy-cane paper glaring at me like tiny judgmental flags. I totally forgot about them. Not good, Noelle! Focus. Stop fantasizing about Saint Nikk and those ridiculously gorgeous muscles.
“You sure you want to leave those in the open?” Donna points at my special pile of gifts.
“Best place to hide something is in plain sight, right?”
“Depends on who’s around. I come from a nosy family. They pick up and shake every present.”
She has a point. My blue Santa doesn’t miss details. Which is why suddenly moving them might make him suspicious. “My brother Chris was like that. Had his nose in everything. Still, I miss him. I wish he was still around.”
“Where’d he move to?”
“He’s gone.”
“West coast?” Her smile fades. “Oh, you mean gone, gone.”
I nod. “He got mixed up with a gang when he was a teen. Everything changed after that. My parents were never quite the same and when they got sick…” I shrug. “I guess they kind of gave up.”
“That’s how you got into this line of work?”
“It gave me something to focus on, a purpose, you know?”
“Yeah, I do. My parents are back in Jersey. I had to get away from them and all their anti-alien, pro-Brotherhood garbage. I have a few close friends I call family. It feels less lonely that way, if you know what I mean.”
“You have Max.”
“I didn’t want to rub that in. Besides, he’s in the doghouse right now. He’s been on my case about working so many hours. Why do men always think their jobs are more important?”
“Good question. I’m sure you two will figure it out before Christmas.”
“If not, I have a backup plan. Treating myself to a cup of hot cocoa, if I can find any on the black market, and snuggling with a good book under three heavy blankets.”
“The heat’s out again?”
“For a change. Landlord says he can’t pay his bills until we pay the rent. I’m not paying rent on a place that’s falling apart.”
“He’s full of shit. That guy owns four properties, one of which is for people with plenty of money.” Note to self, have a talk with her landlord. One he won’t forget.
“Joe’s here with the truck. Do you want me to ride shotgun so you can stay here with your blue candy-cane?”
I lean against the doorframe. “He does look quite lickable.”
Donna reaches for the list of addresses we’re delivering to and lifts the clipboard from a nail in the wall. “Let me know the answer when I get back.”
Before I lose myself in Nikkov, I ease the clipboard from her and scoop up one of the smaller candy-cane wrapped presents. “I have to take this run.”
“I’ll have Santa come in here to wrap when he’s finished fixing those toys.”
That makes me cringe. He’ll see my pile of wrapped gifts, the only ones still in here. “Sorry, Santa’s coming with me.”
“Care to rephrase that?” she says with a smirk that almost makes me regret my word choice.
“I need to see how he is with kids.”
“Talking to them or creating them?”
“You’re so bad. Better not let Santa hear those dirty thoughts.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. Those silver eyes haven’t moved from you since you opened that door.”
She’s right but I tear my attention from Nikkov, grab my winter coat, shove the present in a pocket, and walk right past him as if he’s the enemy.
In some ways, he is. Fuck. Life isn’t fair sometimes.
“Hi, Joe!” I wave at our one and only truck driver across the warehouse. He’s a nice guy in his fifties who’s donating his time and fuel to deliver the gifts. “Start loading up everything in the green section. I’ll be over in a second.”
“Green?”
I point to the ribbon on the floor marking separate piles of toys. “The colors correspond to the food drop off centers on the list I gave you last week. South Side Slopes, North Shore, Oakland, The Hill, Mount Washington, Lawrenceville, and the Strip.”
“Looks like yinz been busy elves. Even got yourself a blue Santa. The kids are gonna love that.” Joe shakes his head as he starts hoisting the toys onto his pickup truck.
Nikkov stands and his mouth twists as he strains to smile.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “Not everyone approves of having aliens here. I should have warned you that you might get some comments from the parents. Hopefully the kids won’t care.
“Zyan helped free Earth, but we are not na?ve. We know first-hand the destruction and the hatred the Coalition leaves behind.”
“That means you’re in a position to change Earth’s perception of aliens. Whether you like it or not, you represent your people here. You’re an ambassador of good will and cheer. Keep practicing that smile.” I pat him on the chest… a huge mistake as I don’t want to remove my hand.
Finally, as my brains take over and I pull away, he captures my hand and keeps it pressed against his chest.
“Warriors adapt to any world, any situation.” He smiles, showing sharp teeth, but he lifts one corner of his mouth, giving that smile a mischievous look, I know he’ll find a way to connect with the kids…. Like he’s connecting with me.
Why are all the good ones always trouble?
When we finish loading the toys onto the back of the truck, I open the passenger door. “I’ll sit in the middle.”
“Your alien Santa can ride in back.”
“He’s a good guy, Joe,”
“I don’t know him.”
Nikkov’s hand lands on my lower back and he guides me into the front seat. “Your Santa delivers the toys personally on a sleigh driven by reindeer. Although Joe has not brought a sleigh or reindeer, this land vehicle will work. I’ll be fine in back.”
My mouth drops open. Between the sleigh comment and that calm confidence, I’ve utterly forgotten what I was going to say. That’s how this alien distracts me.
Nikkov pushes my lower jaw shut with one finger. “That is quite the invitation, but we will require privacy for what you suggest.”
“I wasn’t inviting you to—”
Joe outright laughs and starts up the truck.
“I thought you didn’t know anything about Santa,” I shout over the noisy engine.
“Have you been playing me, Nikkov?” I almost address him as Warrior, though it’s becoming harder to think of him as a warrior with that ill-fitting Santa suit and devilish expression.
“After I finished repairing the toys, I read more about this Santa your people revere.” He holds out his wrist, indicating his comm.
“Your Santa has no claws and therefore has not earned the name, but he is responsible for personally delivering the toys. So, in his name, I will deliver them, even if it means I sit in the back of this conveyance, in the cold air while Joe has the fortune of breathing in your delectable scent.”
For a second time, my mouth drops open, but this time I snap it shut before he makes another lewd comment. Suddenly, I’m imagining giving my blue Santa a blow job, with no means to carry through. At least not at the present.
I make the mistake of glancing back at him.
The ass flashes a crooked but charming, over-the-top grin that any woman would fall in love with.
Including me.
I slam the door shut. “Floor it,” I order Joe, damn well knowing the obnoxious alien might miss his chance to hop into the truck bed.
“I’m not some weak-willed woman,” I mumble under my breath. “And no alien’s gonna distract me from getting the job done.”
“Amen,” says Joe, barely hiding his smirk.