Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
I know he’s weighing my words.
“But then I’ve never signed a clause in order to have sex with a man I’m attracted to before either.” I can’t resist saying.
“I told you I’m complicated.”
“There’s complicated. And there’s complicated.”
He smiles, then frowns before looking all serious again.
“Do you want out of the clause?”
What in the?
“I basically just asked you when we’re going to have sex, and you think I want out of the clause?” Now I look at him like he’s crazy.
He shrugs his shoulders and doesn’t look embarrassed at all.
“It’s a fair question after everything you’ve heard.”
Is he kidding? If everything I heard is really one hundred percent true, which I believe it is, that’s kind of the best bonus there is.
“I appreciate the question, but I don’t want out of the clause. I just want you.”
My words impact him because he immediately takes a step forward and pulls me in his arms again for another earth-shattering kiss. My hot chocolate is lost to me, I could care less at this point because all I want is him. He’s the only thing I want to hold on to and taste. No one else.
Nothing else.
He pulls away again and grabs ahold of my hand and starts walking briskly down Candy Cane Lane. I almost must run to keep up with his pace, but I’m just as anxious as he is so I completely appreciate it.
“Where are we going?” I ask him as I savor in the surroundings.
Since it’s dark in December, the stars and auroras are always out casting an even more of a fairytale look on the village.
“My cottage,” he tells me as we walk off Candy Cane Lane onto a path weaving our way through a maze of inviting homes. The windows are lit up with the light from fires and the sweet smell that permeates the air almost gives you a kind of high.
He smiles and waves at a few people passing us by, all of them with those huge smiles, apparently living the life here in Santa’s Village. He makes another turn and starts walking toward a lone home a good distance away from the rest of the small town. The home is bigger than the ones we passed, but modest and as cozy looking as I can dream it to be.
There’s a sign when we reach the cobblestone path, cleared from snow that leads to the double front doors.
It says, Santa’s Cottage.
I guess I’m about to do it in Santa’s house with Santa’s heir apparent. This I’d never imagine in my wildest dreams.
He turns to smile at me when we reach the front door before squeezing my hand. He pauses before opening the door and leans over and picks me up in his arms. I throw them around his neck and kisses me softly.
He opens the door and steps inside and for some reason I feel like a new bride. I can’t help it—he shouldn’t have gotten all romantic like this! Our mouths are fused as he enters the home and slams the door shut with his booted foot behind him.
“What a pleasant surprise, son!” A booming male voice practically echoes throughout the house. “Ho Ho Ho!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
STETSON
No bloody way.
“Dad?”
He smiles at me and rubs that god awful long, white beard that he insists on keeping before moving his big fingers to grip the suspenders holding up his red pants.
If anyone looks the part, it’s my father.
Charlie should have no doubt believing he is Santa Claus.
“My God, is your stomach even larger?” I ask him aghast.
Charlie gasps as I set her gently down and take hold of her hand again, unable to even process the situation I find myself in.
My father has barely ever met a date of mine, let alone… this.
I can see it on his face.
He rubs his belly and gives me a big smile.
“It’s Star’s caramel bundt cake,” he says with no shame. “I’m addicted to them. I’ve had at least a half dozen every day since I’ve been here.”
“And how long have you been here?” I ask, wondering why he’s here in the first place.
He doesn’t come to the village until the last two weeks in December. That’s been his routine since I can remember. The first two weeks are spent in relaxation to prepare for the round the clock schedule that follows. Since he works year around, my sister and I like to stagger his workload, especially as he gets older.
“A few weeks now,” from the look on his face, he knows he’s in trouble.
“Dad.”
“You haven’t introduced me to your guest,” he waves me off and steps forward in all his glory to stand in front of Charlie, who happens to have gone completely frozen.
No joke.
She’s as still as an icicle outside. I don’t even think she’s blinking.
My father is an inch taller than me and given his girth, he appears larger than life. Since he assumed the role of Claus, he’s also taken on an aura that can’t really be explained, only experienced. I can only explain it like this: he’s more than magnetic, he’s a force of nature, chosen, as he says from above, to bring joy to children around the world.