Page 13 of Mistletoe Face Off

Which, incidentally, is exactly what happens—just not the coming on a sleigh from the North Pole part.

Holly is standing in the doorway and instantly, I’m hooked. That sexy red outfit pops against her long dark hair, and the way it hugs her curves is just…wow. The fur trim adds a playful holiday vibe, and her slightly unsure smile? Man, it’s the kind of smile that makes the whole room feel warmer. The belt shows off her waist perfectly, and she’s wearing black tights with boots. She’s got this effortless, festive charm, and I can’t help but be drawn to my Mrs. Claus.

And yes, I know she’s notmyMrs. Claus, but the fantasy is pretty appealing right now.

“The dress is a little short,” she says, tugging on the fabric that hits her mid-thigh, showing off her long, shapely legs.

“I think you look amazing,” I tell her, meaning it, and am happy to see color instantly rise in her cheeks.

“Thanks,” she murmurs.

Has she got a thing for Santa… or me?

I’m not going to analyze that too closely right now.

“Doesn’t Macy look great?” she says.

I throw my eyes over her daughter. She’s in the adorable elf costume, a green dress with a full skirt, with swirling candy cane-striped tights. Her hair's still in a neat bun, and she shyly tugs at the sleeves, flashing a small, nervous smile that melts my heart.

“You look just like my favorite elf back at the North Pole,” I tell her.

She beams at me. “I do? Mommy, did you hear that?”

“I did, honey,” Holly says, wrapping her arm around Macy’s shoulders and smiling down at her. Macy beams back at her mom.

It’s such a touching mother-daughter moment, the love between these two unmistakable. It makes me want to have what they have. A connection so strong it can never be severed. A deep love for someone.

Yeah, I’m getting soppy. But as I look at the two of them, my heart tells me I need what they have, that closeness you get when you love someone wholeheartedly. When they’re your world.

I may not know the adult version of Holly, but the way she looks at her daughter tells me everything I need to know.

“What do you need us to do now we’re all costumed up?” Holly asks, bringing me back to the room.

“Christmas karaoke, can you believe?” I reply with a shrug of my shoulders. With being practically tone deaf, karaoke isn’t exactly my thing. But when you agree to be Santa at a bunch of events so you can strengthen your claim to be the next team captain, you’ve gotta roll with the punches, and today’s punch, it would seem, is Santa-led karaoke.

“Are you a good singer, Santa?” she asks, her eyes bright, her full lips lifting into a smile.

Those sure are some totally kissable lips.

“As my wife, you might remember that’s a hard no,” I reply.

“Mommy’s a good singer,” Macy says, and I’m about to agree with her, remembering Holly playing the role of Sandy in our high school production ofGreasesenior year, but I catch myself.

“She used to sing in a caterpillar group in college,” Macy adds.

“It’s ‘a cappella,’” Holly corrects.

“’A cappella,’” Macy repeats carefully, trying to get it right.

“Did she now? Well, in that case, I might let your mom lead everyone in the singing this afternoon,” I reply.

Macy pulls her brows together. “But you need to be the leader. You're Santa.”

“How about we agree that Mrs. Claus can lead? I'm a feminist Santa, you see,” I say, and I catch Holly’s eye. She's smiling at me, and it makes my belly do a little flip. “Plus, I’m tone deaf.”

“Sure,” she replies.

“I see you've got your family here now, Santa Claus,” Daphne says. “I hope you’re all ready to sing.”

---