Last Virgin In California (Mills & Boon Desire) (18 page)

“She could drive it here and it was an emergency?” he asked, sure she was just trying to slip out of their lunch date.

“More like it lurched its way here,” Marie told him. “The points and plugs are bad and Laura really needs this car for tomorrow morning.”

Disappointment rose up inside him, but he pushed it away. It was just lunch, right? “What about one of your loaners?” he asked, and turned to where the three junkers were usually parked.

They weren’t there.

“Well, see,” Marie said, “that’s the problem. I’ve already loaned them out.”

Okay, now he was confused. Loaners were supposed to be for her customers’ use. But the Honda was the only car at the shop. Curious, he asked, “Who’d you loan them to?”

She shoved the rag back into her pocket, then tucked both of her hands behind the bib front of her overalls. Rocking back and forth on her heels,
she said, “Well, Tommy needed a car to get to band practice….”

“The kid who works for you.”

“Yes.” She gave him a smile, as if proud he’d remembered. “And Margaret Sanders, a friend of my mom’s, needed a car to get to her daughter’s house, because her daughter just had twins and Margaret had to be there.”

“Well, sure.” Why Margaret couldn’t have gotten there on her own was beyond him, though.

Marie just looked at him. “And the third one is halfway to San Diego by now. Angela needed to go pick up Jeremy’s Christmas present.”

“In San Diego?”

“All the stores around here were sold out.” She cocked her head to one side. “Do you have any idea how fast video games sell out in stores? It’s amazing.”

He’d take her word for it. Since he’d never had to do Christmas shopping for anyone, he had no idea what sold and what didn’t. Looking at the Honda, he asked, “So how long before you have it up and running?”

Marie followed his gaze and sighed. “At least another hour.”

“I’ll wait.”

She whipped around to look at him, then let her gaze slide to the closed door between the garage and the office. “There’s something else, too,” she said. “Last night, when you asked me, I forgot about—”

The closed door opened and Jeremy came through, his eyes widening when he caught sight of Davis.

“Hi! Are you coming with us?” the boy asked.

“Us?” Davis repeated, looking from the kid to Marie.

She shrugged again and smiled.

“To see Santa,” Jeremy said. “Well, not the real Santa, but the one at the mall. His helper.”

“Santa?” Davis repeated before he could stop himself.

Jeremy grinned. “Some of my friends say there’s no Santa, but I figure what if there is and he gets really mad ’cause nobody believes in him? Then maybe he won’t bring me the presents I want, so I don’t want to make him mad just in case, you know?”

“Yeah.” Davis looked away from the boy, idly wondering if all kids talked that much and that fast, or if it was something in the Santini blood. Meeting Marie’s eyes, he said, “So after Laura’s car, it’s Santa?”

“Sorry,” she said, “but I promised.”

“And a promise is a promise, huh, Marie?” Jeremy sounded like he was gloating.

Davis started thinking. Damn it, he wasn’t going to lose out to a tune-up and a visit to Santa. He’d been wanting to get Marie all to himself for several days now and he figured with a bit of finagling, he could still manage it.

“How about,” he offered, walking to Marie’s side, “if I do the tune-up on this heap while you
take Jeremy to see Santa? I’ll be finished by the time you get back and then we can drop him off at home and go to lunch.” Not bad at all, he told himself. A solution worthy of Solomon.

“Nope.”

He was getting very little appreciation for his brilliance.

“What do you mean, no?” he asked. “I know as much about cars as you do.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but this is my shop. I work on the cars here. It’s my reputation, my responsibility.”

“Okay, I can understand that,” he said. He didn’t want to, but he did. “But there’s got to be a way to work this out.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jeremy watching them and he half wondered if she’d planned this, too. Like last night’s family dinner. Was she deliberately trying to avoid being alone with him?

After a long minute, she offered, “There is one way…if you’re up to it.”

He responded to the implied dare like any true Devil Dog. “Lady, I keep telling you. I’m a marine. We’re up to anything.”

“All right, then,” she said, “you take Jeremy to the mall to see Santa. And as soon as I’m finished here, I’ll meet you in Santa’s Village.”

“Now, wait a minute,” he said loud enough to be heard over Jeremy’s shouts. “There’s got to be another way. I’ll go to your house. Pick up Gina. She could—”

“Gina’s at a ballroom dance class.”

“Your mother…”

“Is getting her hair done.”

“Angela…”

“San Diego,” she reminded him.

Why, Davis wondered, did he suddenly feel like he was being surrounded by heavily armored tanks?

“This is the only way, Davis,” Marie said.

He glanced at the boy waiting for his decision. Well, hell. He had two choices here. Charge or retreat. Like any good marine, he made his decisions quickly.

“All right.”

Jeremy shouted again and raced out of the garage toward Davis’s car.

A mall. On a weekend. At Christmastime.

Davis had gone into battle feeling more confident of his chances for survival.

“One hour,” Marie said, breaking into his thoughts. “Outside Santa’s Workshop.”

Santa’s Workshop.

Ooh-rah.

Chapter Six

T
he parking lot was like a battlefield.

The only difference was there were no sides here. It was every man—and woman—for himself. Davis gripped the steering wheel tight enough to snap it in two and tried to keep his eyes on everything at once. Heck, his military training actually helped here. Watch for your chance to advance and protect your flanks.

“We’re gonna be late,” Jeremy whined from the passenger seat beside him.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Davis said, “I’m never late.”

A woman in a red BMW convertible with a holly wreath attached to her front grille, cut him off, then flipped him a hand gesture substantially lacking in
holiday spirit. Gritting his teeth, Davis decided to quit trying to get close to the actual mall and settled instead for a parking space that looked to be miles from the shopping center.

At least they were out of the fray.

He shut the engine off and looked at the boy. Jeremy practically vibrated with excitement. No matter if he denied it or not, the kid obviously placed high faith in Santa Claus. He looked down into those shining eyes and knew without a doubt that
this
kid’s Christmas dreams would come true. The Santini women would see to it. This child wouldn’t know the disappointment of a Christmas morning with nothing to show for it.

Memories swelled inside him, and Davis fought them back valiantly. The past had no more power over him, he reminded himself. He’d come a long way from the boy he’d been. From the boy who’d learned early that to believe in people was to set yourself up for a letdown.

“Can we go now?” Jeremy asked, unhooking his seat belt and reaching for the door handle.

“Yeah,” Davis said, suddenly wanting to hurry up and get this whole Santa thing behind him. “Let’s go.”

He got out, locked up the car and came around the back end where Jeremy stood waiting for him. As they started for the mall, the boy slid his hand
into Davis’s and started tugging, trying to make him hurry.

Glancing down at the kid, Davis felt warmed by the small hand in his. He’d never been around children much and when he had, he’d deliberately kept his distance. But lately it seemed distance was the one thing he couldn’t seem to maintain.

“Christmas is almost here, y’know,” Jeremy said, and anticipation colored his voice.

Doing a quick mental count, Davis told him, “There’s still nearly three weeks to go.”

“But it’s
almost
here.”

Apparently everyone agreed with the boy. Even on base, the holiday season was in full swing. Most of his friends had already scheduled leaves to be with their families, and those that were remaining on base were planning celebrations. Davis, though, couldn’t even remember a time when Christmas wasn’t just a hard time to get through.

Not that he had anything against Christmas. Or Easter. Or Hanukkah. Or the Fourth of July. But all of those things meant family. The one thing Davis had never known. The succession of foster homes he’d moved through as a child hadn’t been more than places to sleep—and to escape from. Maybe there were
good
foster homes out there, but he’d never been in one.

As soon as he was old enough, he’d joined the corps and found his place in the world. It had been
more than enough for too many years to count. And that place was still his, right?

“What do you want for Christmas, Davis?”

“Huh?” His mind had wandered and he came back now with a jolt as a VW sailed past them. He’d better pay attention or they’d both get run down by holiday maniacs.

“For Christmas,” Jeremy repeated. “What do you want?”

“Oh,” he said, then shrugged. Instantly, visions of Marie, wrapped up in a red ribbon and not much else rose up in his mind. But since he could hardly say so to her nephew, he said only, “Nothing.”

The boy laughed and shook his head. “Everybody wants something.”

Wanting and getting are two very different things. And a part of Davis hoped the boy never found that out. Changing the subject slightly, he asked, “What does your aunt Marie want? Do you know?”

Jeremy grinned and tugged a little harder on Davis’s hand. It still looked as though the mall was miles in the distance.

“I’m getting her a new wrench,” the boy said proudly.

Davis smiled. “She’ll like that.”

“I know,” Jeremy said, obviously sure of himself. “Gina says Santa should bring Marie a man.”

Davis’s eyebrows lifted.

“But my mom says Marie wouldn’t know what to do with one anyway.”

Remembering that kiss in the dark, Davis thought he’d have to argue Angela’s point. Still, it did him good to know that there weren’t other men in Marie’s life. That thought sobered him for a minute. He wasn’t
in
her life. Was he?

“Marie doesn’t have boyfriends?” he asked, allowing himself to be pulled along in the boy’s wake.

Jeremy laughed and shook his head. “No way,” he said. “She’s not like Gina.”

True, Davis thought. And for himself, he was grateful for the differences. But he wanted to hear what the kid had to say, so he prodded him a little. “What do you mean?”

“Marie does neat stuff,” Jeremy said. “Like fishing and baseball. She doesn’t have time to go on dates.”

That was certainly true. Davis had never had to work so hard to try and get a woman alone.

“Are
you
gonna be her boyfriend?” Jeremy asked suddenly.

Davis looked down at the kid. The boy watched him warily, waiting for his answer. When it came, it was another question. “Do you think I should be?”

Jeremy stopped dead, tilted his head to one side and thought about it for a long moment. Finally he
said, “Yeah. ’Cause you could teach me how to hit really good, and I think Marie kinda likes you.”

“You do, huh?” he asked, surprised at the jolt of warmth that rushed through him at the idea. “Why?”

“’Cause she acts kinda funny when you’re around. Like she’s breathin’ weird or something.”

Last night stormed into the front of his mind again and he remembered her rapid heartbeat and the brush of her breath against his cheek. They’d both been breathing weird then.

“So I think you should, okay?”

Davis looked at the kid and smiled. “I’ll do my best,” he said, and had every intention of keeping that promise. He wouldn’t mind being Marie’s boyfriend at all. At least, temporarily.

Kids.

Millions of them screamed and laughed and cried and jumped up and down in excitement. The line leading around Santa’s Workshop, through the Village and up to the throne where the big man sat, crawled forward at a snail’s pace. Davis shifted from foot to foot, held Jeremy back from climbing the decorative fence that separated them from the artificial snow and wondered wildly how he’d let himself get talked into this.

The whole place was nuts. The kids around him were worked up to a fever pitch and the Christmas
carols coming in over the loudspeaker had repeated themselves three times. And yet, despite everything, a part of him had enjoyed it all.

Finally an elf escorted Jeremy to the throne and the boy took his seat on Santa’s lap. While the two of them talked, another elf snapped a picture and turned to Davis with a smile.

“Would you like a picture of your son with Santa?” she asked, giving him a slow look up and down. “Only four dollars.”

“He’s not—” Davis broke off before he could deny fatherhood. This elf didn’t know or care who he and Jeremy were. And for some odd reason, as he stood there, surrounded by children and their parents, he actually
wanted
to belong. To be a part of this madness.

For the first time in his life, he felt close to the joy that other people took for granted. He turned his gaze to Jeremy and watched as the child told all his secrets to a man in a Santa suit, and he found himself hoping that the kid would never be disappointed. He wanted to think that the boy would always feel the magic that he felt now. That he would never lose the happiness that wreathed his face.

“Sir?” the elf said. “The picture?”

Davis shifted his gaze from the pretty young elf to the boy still whispering secretively to Santa. His heart swelled suddenly. He didn’t stop to question
the unusual emotions taking hold of him. He didn’t want to examine them too closely.

“Yeah,” Davis told her, his gaze still fixed on Jeremy. “I’ll take it.” He reached for his wallet to buy a little piece of Christmas.

Marie hurried through the mall, dodging harried shoppers laden down with overflowing bags. The tune-up had taken longer than she’d thought and then she’d had to go home and change clothes. Even she refused to go to the shopping center covered in motor oil and grease.

Hurrying her steps toward the center of the mall, she ran the flat of one hand down the front of her beige sweater and stopped atop her nervous stomach. Most people got butterflies when they were nervous. She felt as though bats were flying around inside her.

The crowd of kids was still thick around Santa’s Village and her gaze scanned the mob, looking for two familiar faces. They weren’t there, though, so she turned to look at the surrounding stores and finally spotted them sitting at a café opposite the Workshop.

Her heartbeat staggered and her mouth went dry. Even across a crowded mall, he had the ability to destroy her equilibrium. Mind spinning, she wondered how it had happened that in less than a week she’d become so…involved with this man? It
had been years since she’d indulged in the kind of dreams that had haunted her sleep last night, and that fact worried her as much as it excited her.

Mainly because Marie still didn’t know why he appeared to be so interested in her. But she was beginning to enjoy it. And a part of her was already dreading the day he’d move on in search of a more female female.

Surely soon, the novelty of chasing after a woman mechanic would wear off. Then he’d quit coming around—or worse yet, start treating her like a pal. Something cold and tight squeezed around her heart and Marie almost winced at the sensation. She didn’t need or want another “buddy.”

But darned if she didn’t want him.

Gathering what was left of her unraveling self-control, she hurried through the crowd separating them.

“Hi,” she said as she slid into a seat beside Jeremy.

Davis’s gaze locked onto hers and she felt a slow heat climbing inside her. So much for self-control.

“I already talked to Santa, Marie,” Jeremy said, “and Davis bought a picture of me so you could see it.” He handed her the photo and added in a whisper, “But don’t show it to anybody except Mom and Grandma, okay?”

“Okay,” she told him, and hardly glanced at the
picture before looking at Davis again. “Thanks. Thanks for bringing him and for this.”

“No problem,” he told her. “Get the tune-up finished?”

Good, she thought. Safe ground. “Yeah. But the car’s nearly done for. I don’t know if I can keep it running much longer.”

“How come Laura doesn’t buy a new car?” Jeremy piped up.

“She can’t afford to, honey,” Marie said.

“Maybe Santa will bring her one.”

“Maybe.” But Santa didn’t usually take adults’ dreams and wishes to heart. Maybe he figured adults were capable of making their own dreams come true. And speaking of dreams…

Marie couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from Davis’s. Ever since last night, she’d been thinking about him, reliving that kiss and warning herself not to pump up her balloon to the bursting point. A kiss that had curled her toes didn’t necessarily mean the same thing to him. Maybe he hadn’t felt the same connection she had.

But now, staring into his blue eyes, she had the decided impression that he, too, was remembering those few minutes in the darkness.

“How about we take Jeremy home and go for an early dinner?” he asked suddenly, and she wondered if his voice had really dropped a couple of notches or if she was just imagining it.

Dinner. She thought about it for a long second or two, then decided yes, she’d go to dinner with him. Once they had a little time alone, he’d see she wasn’t his type and go away. Hopefully before she got hurt too badly. Besides, she wanted to be with him again, if only for the last time. She wanted to be kissed again. She wanted to feel the heat rising within her. To feel his arms wrapped around her. For once in her life, she wanted to know what it felt like to be
wanted
by a man. By this man. And she had to do it quickly, before he came to his senses.

“Okay,” she said simply and hoped he hadn’t heard the slight tremor in her voice.

“Hey,” Jeremy complained, “I’m hungry, too.”

One of Davis’s eyebrows lifted in a silent question.

She answered him by speaking to her nephew. “Not tonight, kiddo.” Her gaze slid back to Davis’s as she added, “Tonight is for grown-ups.”

“Lord, girl,” Gina exclaimed, “don’t you
ever
condition your hair?”

“Of course I do,” Marie said, then yelped, “Ow!” when her little sister dragged a brush through the tangled curls.

She glared into the mirror at Gina’s reflection and when her sister was unmoved, shifted that glare to the other two women encamped in her bedroom.

Since finding out about Marie’s dinner date,
the three of them had pulled out all the stops. Apparently they were bound and determined to push Marie through the doors of femininity, kicking and screaming if need be.

Her bedroom, her sanctuary, looked like a bomb had gone off in it. A mound of dresses that had been tried on and discarded covered the mattress. Shoes, stockings and more makeup than Marie had ever seen before lay strewn across every other possible surface.

Jeremy had been left in the main house to play video games on the TV while the Santini women transformed Marie into—she looked at her own reflection and sighed inwardly—a gorgeous stranger.

Gina yanked the brush through the still-warm curls again and Marie made a grab at her hair. “You don’t mind leaving a few strands on my head, do you?”

“Only if they’re curled and shining,” Gina snapped.

“You have to suffer for beauty,” Mama said from her perch on the edge of Marie’s bed.

“And who made up that rule?” she demanded hotly. “A man?”

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