Page 57 of Love Song, Take Two

Fletcher

Is that a good thing? I can’t tell.

Micah

I don’t either. But you’re mine, I’m yours. We can be possessive together, Fletch.

Fletcher

*kissy face emoji*

What are you girls up to tonight?

Micah

Last minute Christmas shopping, maybe some hot cocoa.

Think you might have some time for me later?

Fletcher

I’ve always got time for you, love bug.

Micah

I’ll see tonight, then. *kissy face emoji*

I love you, he said to himself, shaking his head at how ridiculous he was being. Almost fifty and still giddy about texting with his girlfriend, making plans and sending emojis. The man that met Micah the first time never would have imagined he’d do this. Not because he was a badass rocker, but because romance and love and all that other stuff were so alien to him at the time. He might not have been bedding groupies every night, but he’d done his fair share of one night stands. And when you were famous, the number of people who wanted to climb into your bed were endless.

Then he saw Micah in the crowd at their show and everything fell into place.

Switching his phone to vibrate, he shoved the device into his pocket so he could go find his elves. Something told him Kyle and Portia were slowly building a relationship and he hoped that it lasted for a long time. They deserved it. Hell, right now, everyone deserved a good relationship. Like he did with Micah. The thought of seeing her that night, knowing that when he got home he’d get to be with her had him beyond excited. And for the first time since he’d become Santa, he couldn’t wait for it to be over.

Fletcher went through the rest of his shift on autopilot. Despite the late hour, there were still so many kids hanging around, but meeting them blurred together. The only time he was alert and conversing was when he encountered some of Hank’s old buddies. They insisted on shooting the shit and talking about the store, to find out if Fletcher had changed anything about the place. After Hank died, he hadn’t invited any of his old friends back or given the producing music thing another thought. But clearly these old men thought that’s what he should have done. Once they’d berated him—“we’re messing with you, kid“—Fletcher was left alone with Portia and Kyle. His elves were also starting to fade and even though they had the same breaks, it was grueling work walking around and interacting with people for so many hours at a time.

So when Kyle suggested ending the night with a special hot cocoa—spiked with Baileys Irish Cream which was only served after 9 p.m.—Fletcher didn’t protest. Kyle and Portia were standing by the photo booth waiting for their turn to get their pictures taken, while Fletcher stood to the side and sipped on his drink. He was so distracted by watching his elves being awkward with each other as they flirted that he missed the tiny humans charging at him. Saving his drink in the nick of time, Fletcher straightened up and smiled at the gang of kids beaming up at him.

“Mr. Santa, do you make wishes come true?” a little girl in a pink Santa outfit asked.

“That would be so cool, wouldn’t it? However, I can pass the message along to the Fairies.”

The kids gasped and giggled, which made Fletcher snort. He’d had similar conversations with kids over the years, so he had a script of some kind already in place. The little girl waved for him to bend, so Fletcher carefully squatted to her level and smiled as she whispered in his ear, “I wish for a unicorn, but I’ll also accept a pony.”

And then the rest of the kids started whispering their ‘wishes’, which he committed to memory with a smile on his face. Once they were all done, he straightened up and hid the wince at the crick in his back.

“I’ll be sure to pass the message along,” he told them and the kids cheered before running off. Fletcher scribbled the long list of requests into his notebook and pocketed it before heading to where his elves were bent over a strip of photos.

But before he could get their attention, a familiar voice filled the air.

“Oh my god, you’re Santa Claus?”

Fletcher spun in place, eyes wide as he came face-to-face with Emery and Micah. The teenager was grinning as she bounced in place, while her mother looked as shocked as he was. Blowing out a slow breath, he shook his head and changed course to walk over to them. He could feel everyone around them watching, but Fletcher didn’t care.

“Why didn’t you say anything? This is like the coolest thing ever,” Emery added, tugging at his Santa coat with unrestrained glee.

“Thanks,” he told the teenager and then looked at Micah with a cautious smile. “Mick.”

“Fletcher Claus,” she said softly and he grunted, shaking his head.

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