Sleeping With Santa by Debra Druzy Read Free Book Online Page B

his flaws. A recovering alcoholic with an unpredictable ex-wife may be pushing the limits.
    Quitting the fire department might make her happy. But what about him? His job made him feel better about himself. He liked helping people. Nothing felt as good as saving a life.
    Well, next to making a life.
    Making love.
    Imagining a tribe of little redheads running around had his wheels turning.
    Crossing her path was a wake-up call. Maybe thirty-six wasn’t too late to start a family. Sure, he was older, but he wasn’t that old. There were probably a few good swimmers left in his sperm count. If Charlie Chaplin was having kids until he was eighty, then Nick could probably pull one off by forty.
    Before he could sway her into making babies, he needed to convince her to go on a date…
    It was a shock to be thinking such things after being a devout divorcee for so long.
    But it felt good, like he found a new hope for his life. And the funny thing was it had nothing to do with the money.
    He didn’t want to mess things up with Lily. A girl like her needed some time. Some wooing. Some coaxing. Some special persuasion. Now that he’d decided he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon he could do things right.
    But then he remembered she was.
    The conversation about selling her house replayed in his mind.
    It was on the market. It was a burden. She wanted to relocate to Manhattan.
    Once she sold it, she’d be gone…
    An incredible idea curled his toes: Buy the house and give it to her for Christmas.
    It was a perfect plan.
    But if it didn’t work and she didn’t fall for it, he could always blame it on Santa Claus.

Chapter Seven
    Lily was hungrier than a pilgrim on Thanksgiving. She hadn’t been to the grocery store lately for anything more than bread, milk and eggs, so when she tore through the kitchen it was no surprise to find the cupboards and refrigerator bare.
    She could have celebrated with the Barbieris, who put out a feast for every holiday, but she hated feeling like a charity case around their perfectly happy extended family. She skirted the whole scene, blaming it on an imaginary stomach bug, topping off the lie with a fictional fever.
    The truth was she felt too crummy to be socially polite, in no mood to put on the happy face and make annoying chitchat.
    Thinking of annoying chitchat, luckily, she hadn’t run into Nick in weeks since the night at the farm.
    Saying yes to his plentitude of offers had been tempting, and saying no was getting harder. She could have agreed to go out as friends, but with the way her heart rate soared in his presence, being buddies would be tougher than simply going off his radar.
    “It’s for the best, right, Ma?” She rolled her eyes to heaven, ignoring the brown water-stained blotches on the ceiling, then glanced at her sickly expression in the bathroom mirror.
    Even if Nick’s hazardous occupation weren’t an issue, no doubt, once he got past the basic getting-to-know-you boloney, he’d grow bored. A mature man like that wouldn’t stay interested for long with her quicksand of debt and lifetime of emotional baggage.
    What good could come from a single date? Except for wanting another one. And another…
    Like he said, he wasn’t setting a wedding date.
    Lily snorted at her reflection. “As if.” No way, no how , she refused to fall for a firefighter, no matter how much she wanted this one.
    The empty pit of her lovesick stomach groaned, encouraging her to throw on some clothes before foraging for food in town. No velour ensembles today as all her good tracksuits were in the dirty laundry pile. Instead, she pulled on some mismatched oversized sweats that doubled as winter pajamas.
    Being home alone on the holidays sucked. They were always the hardest days without her folks, and she wondered how many more she’d have to endure. Maybe it was time to revisit the therapist she’d seen after her mother’s accident. Instead of getting better each year, she felt worse.
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