Read Online Santa Viking by Sandra Hill - Free Book Online Page B

playing the jolly ol’ fellow for her third graders’ Christmas party. It had seemed reasonable to zip on over to the elementary school where Ellie taught, and it had been fun, too.
    Later they’d gone out for pizza and she’d berated him ad nauseam about the dismal state of his personal life. Too many women—“bimbos” was her exact word. No commitments. “How long are you going to mourn Ginny? She’s been dead five years.”
    Then she started in on his biological clock ticking away with no children in sight. “Men don’t have biological clocks,” he’d pointed out.
    “And you’ve got dirty laundry up the wazoo,” she’d added. Okay, she had a point about the laundry that had been stacked roof high in the back seat of his car before he hit the Laundromat tonight. And, yeah, for months now, he’d been just buying new packages of briefs and socks whenever he ran out. God bless Walmart! And who said T-shirts couldn’t be turned inside out in an emergency?
    On and on, Ellie had ranted. So, she was responsible for his present predicament. If not for her nagging, he never would have come out at midnight to do his laundry and meet Ms. Psycho Santa.
    “Where to, babe?” he asked with a sigh of resignation. “Where’d you park the sled?”
    Ms. Santa hesitated, glancing toward a van hidden around the side of the mall behind a Dumpster. Emblazoned across its sides was the logo Clara’s House. Hell, she must be a for-real nun, like that Frank character said.
    He immediately made a mental revision in his strategy. Taking the perp down at the first opportunity had been his original plan. He’d been unconcerned about whether the weird woman got hurt in the process.
    But he couldn’t in good conscience risk taking out a nun. His sister would never forgive him. The news media would have a field day. His business would be shot to hell.
    Besides, she was kinda cute.
    “Where’s your car?” she asked, biting her full bottom lip—a nervous habit he’d noticed right from the start, which only called attention to her puffy, very kissable mouth. “The van’s too easy to follow. And stop jerking around so much. I don’t want to shoot you accidentally.”
    “How about not-so-accidentally?”
    “Don’t tempt me.”
    Man, oh, man, she reminded him of one of those “Magic Eye” pictures. Once you saw the hidden image, you couldn’t stop looking at it. Her Angelina Jolie lips were like that. Now that his splintering brain registered how sensual her lips were, they drew his eyes like a magnet. Maybe I inhaled too many bleach fumes tonight.
    “My car’s over here,” he said, chastising himself silently for his wandering mind as he indicated a metallic gray Bronco across the empty parking lot, “but, listen, I left all my clothes in the dryer over at the Suds ’n Duds.” He pointed to the Laundromat down a little ways in the strip mall. “That’s why I was in the supermarket. I needed quarters for the machine, and that slimeball assistant manager at the supermarket wouldn’t give me any change unless I bought something. So I got a lottery ticket. Hey, I left my ticket back on the floor. Maybe I’m a millionaire. We should go back and check.” He was deliberately babbling away in hopes of diverting her attention so he could grab for the piece.
    “Forget the clothes and the lottery ticket, buddy. This is more important.” She walked him over to the car with the forty-five still imbedded in his neck, too high for his lead corset to protect him.
    “I hope you’ve got the safety clip on that gun,” he said.
    “What’s a safety clip?”
    He moaned.
    “Don’t worry, I’m being careful.”
    “Yeah, like you were careful with those farting bears.”
    “Oh, you are so crude. They were burping bears.”
    “Well, that’s better, of course. Did anyone ever tell you that you have incredible lips?”
    She blinked at him as a current of electricity seemed to ricochet between them. “Oooh, you are smooth. And